LIAH #931

this is kind of an homage to old school LIAH. short little blurbs about something i'm really fucking excited about. enjoy.

LIAH #930

tsl 2's script is just about done, time to start getting excited. anything i've ever wanted to do is gonna happen with this film. and since i finally will own a camera now, it's the beginning of andrew southard films. we've already got united they stood, the scarlet letter, and once upon a time in suburbia. shit is gonna get intense.

LIAH #929

i'm seeing blink-182, my favorite band of all time, in 2 weeks. 2 fucking weeks. i've been waiting 18 years. well not exactly, but a solid 7 years. thats a long time.

LIAH #928

so today at work they banned reading. in anger i wrote this.

andrew southard wrote this

It was a dark, dark day at Westchester Country Club. That is metaphorically of course, because even with an 80 percent chance of T-Storms, the weather was anything but dark. Rambling I am and making up the weather forecast, I am as well.
Lieutenant Kevin Donahue, or Kev, gathered up the troops at precisely 9 AM. Something wasn't right, I could almost taste it in the air. Did someone leave cushions out? Was there another grilled cheese complaint? Was there a swarm of African killer bees coming towards the cabana beach? Any of those would have been viable options compared to the flaming trident of information that was thrown in our collective faces.
Backtrack.
Let me explain.
My name is Andrew, and I am one eighth of the cabana team at Westchester Country Club. Some might ask, what does that mean Andrew? We get your ice, set up your chairs, we watch you while you sleep. Do NOT fuck with us. Nice little Fight Club reference there. I hope you enjoyed that, I know I sure did.
There are three essentials for a cabana man. And when I say essential, I mean essential with all three syllables. E-ssent-ial. Meaning very fucking important. They are, chits, a pen, and a book. Chits are to write down food orders, a pen to do the actual writing, and a book for any time you're not using the first two items.
If I had to do a percentage, I'd say you're reading 75% of your time working.
75%.
About 5 1/2 hours a day reading. Maybe. I'm not good with numbers. You do the math.
Fast forward.
The cabana beach is burning. The National Guard is heading down the Playland Parkway. The battalion of cabana men is holed up in the Gun Club, waiting to make our next move. I've got an AK-47 and half a pack of cigarettes to my name. How the fuck did this happen.
Backtrack 6 hours.
"Boys, the Beach Committee layed down the law last night. Library hour is over." Lt. Kev informed us.
What? No. They can't. He's not serious.
"No more reading on the bench."
Maybe just on the weekend.
I can deal with not reading on the weekends.
"Ever."
No.
"Library hour is done."
They can't do this. They can't. They can take away our facial hair, sure. I used to have a killer beard, but it's whatever. They can take away our weekends. They can take away our dignity, pride, and self respect. But they can NOT take away our books.
Shortly after, the cabana men gathered.
"This is bullshit."
"Fucking bullshit."
"If I had another term for bullshit I'd fucking use it."
"I have sun poisoning."
That was Basso. He got sun poisoning today too, so he was really not happy.
We needed support. We needed guidance. Even the vets were left speechless. Come on Farrell. You're the ranking officer here, give us something. "I think it's time I show you boys why we call this the Gun Club."
That's when we stormed the beach. It was pretty easy to take it over. We know these beaches better than anyone else. King Bernie III sent the pawns after us first, but a lifeguard doesn't know much beyond using a whistle. Then came the kitchen staff, a much more skilled elite, but no match for pissed off cabana men.
Then Basso fell down.
"Basso! No!"
"The sun poisoning, it's eating away my body."
"Don't you die on me Basso. Don't you die on me"
We had to get him help. You don't leave a cabana man behind. We brought him back to the Gun Club, but this battle is slowly getting out of our hands.
That leaves us to about here. We are strong, but we're certainly not Army strong.
It's not looking too good and I'm running out of chits to write on. If you read this, please, don't let them win. They can take away our books, but they will never take our freedom.
Stay golden ponyboy.


so yeah. i was pretty bored today. i hope you enjoyed.

LIAH #927

here, is the first scene in my new film, tsl 2: the deuce (working title). it gets out of format when i have to copy and paste it, so bear with it.

Fade in:

ext. outside teddy's house - day

A car pulls up to a house. JOHN CHILLINGWORTH, a short maniac with black hair, a black mustache, and a black suit, emerges from the car. He looks down at a piece of paper, then at the house, and starts to walk towards the door. He has a menacing pace to his stride. Menacing meaning that this dude is here for trouble.

John Chillingworth rings the bell.

INT. TEDDY'S HOUSE - DAY

TEDDY, a mutton chopped lonely man in a robe is sitting at this couch. The doorbell rings. He goes to open the door and finds Chilingworth standing at the door, smiling.

Chillingworth

Can I come in?

Teddy motions for him to come in.

TEDDY

(fumbling his words)

I figured that I'd be seeing you sooner than later.

CHILLINGWORTH

So you know who I am?

TEDDY

I can take an educated guess.

CHILLINGWORTH

(laughing)

An educated guess, that's funny. Real fucking comedian, eh? How about we take a seat, talk some business. Do I smell coffee?

TEDDY

Uh, yeah. I just made a pot.

CHILLINGWORTH

I'd kill for a cup of coffee.

Chillingworth and Teddy sit at the table. Teddy is sitting uncomfortably, while Chillingworth is enjoying every sip.

CHILLINGWORTH

Alrgiht. You ready to talk. I got you a present.

Chillingworth puts a gun on the table.

TEDDY

Jesus Christ man I don't even know your name.

CHILLINGWORTH

John Chillingworth. Our brothers used to be in business together.

Teddy picks up the gun and smile forces its way out.

TEDDY

It's been about 5 years hasn't it?

Chillingworth nods.

TEDDY

There's not a day that goes by where I don't think about getting revenge on that woman. She killed my brother man, she killed my brother.

Teddy shoves his head into his hands.

CHILLINGWORTH

She left both our brothers dead in a fucking gutter somewhere. So here I am, handing you the means to do something about it. What's your move chief?

TEDDY

My move?

Teddy takes the gun in his hand and a look of conviction takes over his face.

TEDDY

I want to put a bullet in her fucking head.

CHILLINGWORTH

There we go, that's what I wanted to hear. Get yourself cleaned up.

EXT. OUTSIDE TEDDY'S HOUSE - DAY

Chillingworth walks outside towards the car. Teddy, now cleanly shaven with his hair slicked back and wearing a black sports jacket, follows.

TEDDY

Where to John?

CHILLINGWORTH

We've got some unfinished business in Jersey. Does the name Pearl ring a bell?

TEDDY

Picking up where they left off. Fucking alright.

LIAH #926

so yeah i just worked 8 days in a row. not fun at all. i'm tired, drained, and many other synonyms for needing sleep. is that the right word? it might not be, i'm not too sure. i don't really have much to say. tomorrow i promise i'll sit down and write something nice. maybe a sneak preview to a page of my new film tsl 2, working title? possibly. its pretty fucking good so far i'm not gonna lie.

LIAH #925

life is good. in less than a month, i am seeing blink-182 in concert. it still blows my mind. i've also got a new film to make this summer, the scarlet letter 2(working title). did i use those parentheses right? well at least i got spell check so i can spell parentheses right. anyway, tsl the deuce, pretty much the brothers of chillingworth and the other guy get together to kill hester prynn. prynn? maybe. and hester is all whacked out on coke its bad. her daughter? well you'll just have to wait and see. or i've still got to come up with that either one.

LIAH #924

eyes, back of the head. whats up. its summer, chillin. working hard, but making that money. this is sort of in haiku form isn't it. 5 - 7 - 5. nah. whatevs. anyway, blink 182 is coming up soon. august 9th. going to be the greatest day of my life. you're not really supposed to have high expectations otherwise the expectations might not live up to what you thought it was. i don't care. thats kind of my life story, high expectations that are spoiled. but blink won't spoil me. they can't. i've been reading layer cake and theres this part where he's like, my father once told me theres only three things that are completely yours and no one can take from you. your mind, morals, and integrity. well my three things are my bros, blink, and the islanders. blink broke up before, and the islanders have threatened to move to kansas city. but hopefully its all good now. just remember, you can stand in our way, but you will never keep us down. cheers.

LIAH #923

vancouver is starting to look more and more like a viable option. applyed for some internship yesterday we'll see how that goes. wait did i spell that wrong? no i didn't. shit if i couldn't spell the place then we'd have a problem. well tomorrow i storm the beaches like they're fucking normandy. according my boss i'll either be humping or pumping ice all day. he might have said pumping, but i'll go with humping. get ready to get fucked drew southard. get ready.

LIAH #922

normal cars when their battery is fucked up, they just won't start in the morning. not the grand am. so i'm driving to work this morning, and i knew i was having some battery problems, but whatever i figure i'll try to man it out. going down bryant, the radio stops working. ok. the lights in the car start to dim. ok. i make it to like right before 287, and........it's gone. what? its gone its all gone. bummer. so that really sucked. pretty much my car is a mess right now, my room is a mess, and i don't have work tomorrow. time to get shit together. and smoke a lot of weed. yes sir. stay classy.