OK, I’m not really asking. I think “dammit” is far superior to “damnit.” “Dammit” is phonetic and looks like it sounds. When I see “damnit” I always pronounce the “n” even though I know better. Yes, “dammit” is slang for “damn it” but when you glue them together into one word I strongly suggest “dammit.” I got to thinking about it when I saw John August use “damnit” in a recent post and thought it was a strange choice for a professional screenwriter. Maybe there’s something I don’t know?

(For what it’s worth, Merriam-Webster and American Heritage both have entries for “dammit” but I can’t find any dictionary with an entry for “damnit” so maybe it’s not a matter of style after all.)

This is the perfect day to wear your brand new Yankees hat

"Like if Dylan tweeted, “I saw the hottest chick in a tube top. tube tops FTW!” I would just probably kill myself."

— Matt, on the disillusionment of celebrity Twittering.

I’m such a sucker for these scale demos. The amoeba actually looks relatively large, no?

It seems that we’ve decided as a society that it’s OK to leave your dog’s urine on the sidewalk. This seems to be the state of affairs. It’s not OK to leave your dog’s shit, but go ahead, leave little golden puddle treasures all over the place for me to step in. No worries at all! You know cause dog poo is super gross, but urine is fun and fresh! Leave it where it is! It’s liquid mardi-gras beads all over my city!

Well I’m going to go out here and say, I think we need to end this.

We don’t make this distinction with our own bathroom habits. It’s not like we say “Please do your shitting in the company restroom like a civilized person, but go ahead and pee in the lunch room sink if you feel the urge.” Could you imagine if we were fine peeing anywhere like dogs? You’re walking to work and Andre from accounting is peeing on a fire hydrant? The streets would run gold the second we got permission to do this as a society.

So here’s my solution. The next time you walk your dog, bring along a turkey baster and an empty soda bottle. Use the turkey baster to siphon the urine into the bottle and bring it with you. You’re already carrying a bag full of shit, a bottle full of piss isn’t going to make it any worse.

I was reading a fascinating NY Times article about anxiety and finding myself vibrating with anxiety the more I read it. Maybe this isn’t ironic at all and makes perfect sense. Or maybe it’s October and that’s just how I’m wired to feel this time of year whether I’m reading about anxiety or dog biscuits.

I’ve never read anything about dog biscuits, but it just occurred to me as I read entirely too much about the upcoming post-season that I actually have no reason to worry whatsoever. I mean, yeah, when Game 1 of the Sox’ ALDS starts I’ll be clenching my fists so hard my hands will bleed and I may or may not punch some pillows, invent new swear word combos and curse every religion’s god, but when all is said and done, I have no reason to worry.

1. The Sox have a great team. If we can’t win a World Series with this team, you gotta give credit to the team that beats them and move on. I can’t think of a single “If only we had…” for this club. It’s worthy.

2. It’s a scientific fact that the Yankees are going to win it all. At least, that’s what’s supposed to happen. You pump enough money into a team (1.8 Billion since 2000 to be exact) and you’re eventually going to poop out some championships, even if Jesus is rooting against you. And as Matt said, if the Yankees don’t win, well then that’s just gloriously delicious gravy.

3. My team has won it all twice in the last five years. They’ve been competitive five times in the last six. Things are pretty great. I have friends who are Orioles fans and Mets fans. Trust me, things for me are pretty great. I can sit back and enjoy this team play and enjoy what happens.

It didn’t occur to me that I had the option of not worrying until just now.

What a novel idea.

William Safire’s just-in-case speech for Nixon in the event that the Apollo 11 astronauts were stranded on the moon. (I assume this is real.)

Last night Sara and I suffered what can only be described as the worst thing that can happen to a human being. You’re probably thinking murder. Or rape. Or some form of torture. WRONG. I submit to you something even worse:

A COCKROACH IN MY BED!

There isn’t a font size large enough to communicate the complete devastation of this occurrence. We are still in shock, trying to pick up the pieces of our shattered lives. I mean we’re clean people! We wash. We launder our clothing and sheets weekly. We don’t eat in bed dear god we don’t eat in bed why?? WHY?!

I can still feel it on my leg, shocking me into full adrenaline soaked alertness. Leaping out of bed and screaming like Jack Bauer and hammering with a running shoe. Hammering until there was nothing but goo on the floor and tears on my pajamas.

But there is no running shoe that can smash away the nightmares that will haunt our dreams for the rest of our lives.

(Or at least until next Tuesday when we forget all about this.)

Last week was an eventful one in the life of my short film, Forever’s Not So Long. In the span of 7 days Garrett and I went to two cities on opposite coasts, collected 2 awards and appeared in 3 newspaper articles.

We won the Grand Jury Prize for best narrative at the SIFF 1 Reel festival. This was an amazing and unexpected win and it’s really been the highlight of the entire experience so far. Then on Sunday we won an audience award at the DC Shorts festival, one of the best, most filmmaker centric festivals we’ve attended. I want to make a new short just to go back to DC Shorts next year.

We were reviewed in two papers, the Seattle Times and then in the Washington City Paper. Tessa Moran of City Paper wrote:

This apocalypse narrative reaches beyond the genre’s typical gloom with well-placed humor. The take-home: that once past the superficiality of initial courtship, spending one’s life with someone can happen in only a number of hours: the unglamorous yet pleasing sex life; the simple but precious experience of reading together; the quarrel over a little too much spice in the stir-fry.

Tom Keogh of the Seattle Times wrote:

A couple of films at Bumbershoot have end-of-the-world themes. The best is Shawn Morrison’s drama-comedy “Forever’s Not So Long” … about a man and a woman, strangers to one another, who hook up for the last four hours of Earth’s existence and look as if they’ve lived a lifetime together.

I was also interviewed by a capital hill magazine Roll Call about my film and DC Shorts. I enjoy this one most because, well, I’m selfish and the article heavily features my quotes.

As if all this wasn’t enough, the buzz surrounding our win in Seattle generated over 16,000 views of the movie on Vimeo since September 5th (a span of about 2 and a half weeks) bringing the total Vimeo views to over 55,000. That number really smashes our expectations for the film. Not so much from a success standpoint as simply pure views. That the feedback is still so overwhelmingly positive (I can count 4 or 5 negative responses out of hundreds) is just so encouraging for us.

But it’s not over yet. We’d like to try our luck at a few European festivals (we hear the Euros love depressing arty shorts) and maybe some kind of DVD release. We’re not sure yet. I’m still taking in the last 2 weeks and enjoying the moment.