thediastema's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "We could do it in the movies!" Dear Master, I've broadcast my hate for the replacement cookies a million times here; why did I leave work with two boxes of "sugar" and "sugar with nuts" on Saturday night? Easy. I was in an artsy mood. Sunday night, I headed out with Sis and two of her most creative buddies and the four of us shot footage of ourselves making very destructive use of the cookies. Destructive, that is, to the cookies themselves. We took them up to U of U's chemistry building parking lot, which is immediately adjacent to Pioneer Theatre's lot (I'm so fired if anybody saw us) and connected via an underground tunnel to the stadium at which the 2002 Olympics' opening ceremonies will take place. We ambled into the tunnel and Sis and her friends took turns beating the cookies a la LAPD, "serving" them and wacking them into pieces with a tennis racquet, and "Riverdancing" on them while I filmed. We took them to the top level of an above-ground parking garage. Several stories high and watched by surveillance cameras at every turn, we chucked the cookies onto the tops of nearby buildings -- or, when missing, past the windows of the apartment-dwellers therein. We made a rather vague "porno" starring the cookies -- the guy and I did cartoon voices for them -- and received applause from a spectator we couldn't locate. It's all on video. We made a pyramid out of a few and I ran over it with Hamilton at a very slow speed -- several times. We took the last of the batch out to the Great Salt Lake, which does not, as I previously alleged, smell like farts, but like something even worse. We chucked them into the water, which is so saturate and still with salt and bacteria that it looks like solid ground in the night-vision footage -- until the cookies hit it, sometimes themselves breaking into pieces on impact. And yeah, they floated. Everything floats. Our shoes got stuck in the vomit-scented silt and became encrusted with the fetid lake slime, so I wound up driving us back into town barefoot. We came home and Nathie edited the footage, and then, on a lark suggested by my mum, we set the cookie-demolition montage to a song on the the parents' debut CD. The song is called "Finish 'em Off." (Wanna hear it? Buy the CD. It's cheap. And you'll even get my phone number.) The synchronicity of it all (no pun intended) was hilarious and breathtaking. Nathie calls it my directorial debut. I feel so cool right now. Even though I stink. ~ETK 05:08 - 05 November, 2001 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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