Movie Script Idea

Some jerk, played by Jack Black, or whoever, somehow gains the ability to see the true inner self of people he encounters. Maybe we could get Tony Robbins or Doctor Oz to hypnotize him to make this possible. Hell, he could just get struck by lightning instead. That would be a lot easier, plus I feel like Doctor Oz would show up on set with quinoa salad to share with everyone, and then give some pitch about a new weight loss drug he just invested in. It would set back the schedule. I run a tight set. I’m also the director now. Writer-director.

Back on track. And by the way, the main guy doesn’t have to be Jack Black, maybe Neil Patrick Harris would be interested, or we could bring back some broke television star from the ’80’s that probably hasn’t tasted hot food in a while. So, this main character meets a really hot chick that doesn’t seem to understand why our main man is interested in her.

We fill in the middle with enough low grade bathroom humor to get the running time up to 90 minutes, then at the end, the Shyamalanian twist comes: the hot chick was the person’s inner self, remember, and when Jack Black or Michael Newman comes out of his altered state, we find that the person he was attracted to was a flamboyant junior high kid. Don’t worry, they didn’t get it on or anything. The other people in the film notice that the guy is acting really creepy around this kid, so they call the police.

The guy goes to jail, I’m thinking Michael Newman is my main choice now, because I’m the producer too. Writing, directing, producing. I do a lot of stuff. While in prison, the guy somehow becomes hypnotized again, and finds true love, this time with a legal adult, maybe a morbidly obese Hawaiian man, or whatever juxtaposition would be funny in this scenario. Who would look funny as Michael Newman’s boyfriend? I’ll have to look through some headshots. Or maybe I’ll just play the main guy, because I also act. I’m an actor that writes and directs and produces. And then the guy I fall in love with in prison is actually me, because by this point I play everyone in the movie.

The thing is, I don’t really want to get involved in the whole Hollywood-Industrial complex, so in order to get this thing made, it’s all going to have to take place in my spare bedroom, with no cameras, because I don’t like seeing videos of myself. Actually, I’ll probably just sit on the couch and imagine all this happening, then the second Shyamalanian twist will flop out: I find out that I am actually M. Night Shyamalan, or he is me. Haven’t thought that out yet.

I’m going to end this post now.

 

Beards Ignite Primordial Lust In Women, Whether They Care To Admit It Or Not

Anthropology lesson: At the dawn of humanity, all men had beards. If a man couldn’t grow one, he was clubbed over the head with a mammoth femur, defecated on, and tossed off a cliff. By a guy with a beard. Why such harsh vibes toward the bald-faces? The reasons:

1) In those days, due to the life expectancy of early humans, an 18-year-old was considered to be a seasoned old man. Here in the present, he would be equivalent to any run-of-the-mill septuagenarian, in terms of longevity. Yet, unlike any run-of-the-mill septuagenarian of today, these “wise old” 18-year-olds were very capable of getting their breed on. Any man that didn’t have a beard by age 18 was believed to be possessed by impotent demons. As mis amigos Mexicanos would say, they were no bueno para chaka-chaka.

2) It’s natural for beards to grow. From the wisdom of the Taoists:

“Let everything be allowed to do what it naturally does, so that its nature will be satisfied.”

And if your face doesn’t naturally grow hair, its nature will be dominated and destroyed by someone whose face has the nature of beard-growing, because it is natural for humans to mock, hate, torture, and ridicule things that are bizarre and weird to them.

And so the thesis goes—women have deeply-ingrained sensory receptors that tell them to be wildly attracted to men with beards, because that is the natural way of evolution, the ultimate symbol of fecundity and virility. As you walk the path, women will tell you that too much facial hair is quote “nast” and that you “have peanut butter sauce in your beard.” Valid points? Of course. This doesn’t mean that the most remote regions of their mammalian subconscious mind aren’t whirring, wheeling, and enveloped with images of beards dancing circles around their heads.