SAP here ~
This one is for everyone out there who digs our stuff, the fans of Perry Brothers goodies, Ponce’s work, my work, and everyone who just digs checking in to see what we are up to.
“Think it Over One More Time….. baby, won’t you please come home….”
Clifton Chenier sings to me as I write my thoughts on the coming new year, assuming the Apocalypse does NOT commence as scheduled, and his words beckon me back home letting me know that it’s waiting to embrace me in its loving, Louisiana arms.
I’ve finished a new screenplay. It’s a horror flick. One I intend to direct in early 2013. The universe seems to be signaling me that the time is here, make the move, push the envelope, get your groove on. So it’s a push back home, to make all the wonderful projects I’ve been building this past year come to fruition. The birthing legs are ready to walk.
Los Angeles has been pretty good to me. I’m not the biggest fan of the city, this is pretty well known. Mostly because of the actual business of Hollywood and the way people are taught to comport themselves in the City of Angels. Louisiana is my homeland. As limited as the big city things I love so much are in Louisiana, it wins on the people, the music, the food, and the way I feel when I’m here. Right now, I’m sitting at Cafe Envie The coffee is so so, the atmosphere good good, and the feeling of being in New Orleans…. well, as they say, Laissez les bons temps rouler!
A lot of my Los Angeles friends have taken to traveling to New Orleans for work in the film industry. The jobs are growing. And once you’ve spent time here, and really taken in the people and the music it’s clear why a person like me feels most comfortable here. I want to make Louisiana a better place to make movies. It’s already pretty awesome, I want to help make it the most awesome.
So, as 2013 rolls in my mind will be on all the wonders that are already in action and the ways they will flourish and grow as time moves forward. I will be creating a lot, from comedy, drama, horror and mixtures of all the above. I feel more roles for Ponceman in movies and TV and all the new forms of entertainment that are cropping up in this new age of internet based entertainments. I have a love I’ve never felt before in my life, and an excitement and drive that has somehow endured the hardest times and crappiest situations to, oddly enough, come out stronger. And I have a happiness that comes from sharing my works and thoughts with fans, true fans, that I feel connected with more than ever. The book signings we’ve done in 2012, the public appearances and just plain ol’ hanging out with the homies have made me thankful for the past, the good and the bad, and has helped me realize how great this ride truly is.
Thanks for sharing the ride.
by Scott Allen Perry
One fine autumn morn, Farmer Delacroix stepped out onto his tobacco field, sniffed in the sweet blue-skied air and said, “Today is a good day for killin’.”
The sound of the axe cut through the air as forcefully as it did the turkey neck Farmer Delacroix had chosen as his victim. He didn’t much care for turkeys. Never did. Never would. He did like killing them though, and did it with Vigor and Joy. Vigor and Joy were the neighbor kids down the way who loved watching Farmer Delacroix do his “turkey whackin'”. Mostly because he’d always give them the turkeys he whacked and that meant they’d eat well that week. That is, as long as Aunt Nedelia wasn’t visiting.
Aunt Nedelia was a portly woman. Scratch that. She was Rotund. Blimp-like in her shape and seemed hellbent on increasing her mass by ingesting every ounce of food that came within her reach. She especially had a hankering for turkey.
Vigor and Joy bounced into the kitchen, their overflowing excitement dredged as they laid eyes on Aunt Nedelia. They dropped the headless turkey right there on the kitchen floor and got a powerful spanking from their father, Lawrence Gibbler, for making such a bloody mess in his temple of yum. Lawrence Gibbler was a patient man, but not when it came to turkey blood, or turkeys in general as he considered them to be the foulest of fowl.
The children sat frownie-faced as the headless bird was gutted, plucked and placed into the oven for a slow cook journey that would lead it to Tummyville. The kids knew that their tummies would be lucky to get the slightest morsel of that turkey Farmer Delacroix had so happily handed over to them that morning. If he only know that his bird was to be ravaged and swallowed up by that gluttonous behemoth known as Aunt Nedelia. Then it hit them….
Lawrence Gibbler always saved the turkey feathers he plucked from Farmer Delacroix’s gift turkeys. He one day planned to make a fine frock for himself, adorned in turkey feathers that circled his visage and trailed down the long kingly train he imagined he’d one day wear. He kept the feathers in a series of wheelbarrows out in the big, red barn behind the house. They’d been separated by turkey size, turkey sex, and feather hue. Lawrence Gibbler was all about the feather hue. Vigor and Joy gathered up the feathers and poured them into a trench they dug off the back porch of the house. Their plan was in motion.
Aunt Nedelia sat at the kitchen table, gazing at the turkey in the oven as it slowly browned. She fantasized what the first bite would taste like, the crisp skin cracking beneath her bicuspids. The saliva formed pools in the corner of her mouth. Her gargantuan stomach groaned like the bowels of an old slave ship in a squall. Then it hit her…. the smell of dark chocolate. It was one of the only smells on the planet powerful enough to pull her away from her turkey gazing station. The chair creaked as she heaved her poundage up and trudged her way across the floor to the back porch. With every thudding step she took, the scent of dark chocolate filled her nostrils, sending adrenaline pulsing through her heart and driving her closer to the decadent smell that she longed to swallow whole.
The porch door swung open and Nedelia squeezed her way outside. The wood cracked and moaned under her weight as she drew closer to the source of the smell. Then she saw it. It was beautiful. There, just a few feet off the porch steps, was a shiny, dark chocolate, Easter bunny. The sun had already heated it enough for it to moisten, it’s curves glistening in the glow of the Autumn sky. She moved faster. Down the stairs she walked, drops of saliva falling from her lips as she imagined taking the brown, sugary sweetness into her mouth in one gaping swallow. A vision that vanished the instant she stepped into the trench Vigor and Joy had carefully camouflaged with leaves and twigs. Nedelia plummeted and quickly sank beneath the thousands of turkey feathers the children had placed there atop a thin layer of fresh, hot tar. Nedelia writhed and wailed, swirling herself in a bath of tar and turkey feathers. When she finally emerged from the trench she no longer looked like the Nedelia that was there moments before. No, this was an entirely new look, a new creature that now graced God’s orange and brown earth. This was a giant turkey woman. A giant turkey woman that had crawled out from the ground at Lawrence Gibbler’s place and into the sights of Farmer Delacroix’s axe-blade.
Vigor and Joy grinned that night with every bite of turkey they ate. A knowing look passed between them they would share every time their tongues tasted turkey, then and for the rest of their natural lives. Lawrence Gibbler never suspected a thing as he’d returned to his kitchen that afternoon to find a note from his spherical sister that read, “Lawrence, I couldn’t wait for your turkey to cook. I’m leaving forever for Turkey Ville, South Carolina, where the turkey meat flows free. I shall ever return for I intend to marry a turkey once I arrive there and make little human/turkey babies for the rest of my years. Love always, your sister, Nedelia.”
That night, Vigor and Joy finished the entire bird. There were no leftovers. A symbolic way of finishing off their little secret. They were content, for the knew there would be more turkeys. And they knew there would be no more Aunt Nedelia to swoop in and take the bird from their lips before they’d ever had a chance to taste it. And if, by some chance, another person invaded their lives, a person with a hunger such as the aforementioned Aunt Nedelia, they knew there would be a remedy for their dilemma. For every day was a new day, and, as Farmer Delacroix would say, “Today is a good day for killin’.”
It’s not Friday but I couldn’t resist.
For some fun videos go to THE ABNORMAL COMEDY CHANNEL
Well kiddies, it’s been a long time coming but it’s finally arrived. The burying of the hatchets, the finding of the common ground, the letting of the bygones to be bygones has finally arrived. We, the Perry brothers, Ponceman and SAP, have finally calmed the once rough waters between us and Mediocre Films, aka Greg Benson. In short….
….it’s all good
So, this Thanksgiving has an extra special thanks-ing from us to the universe and all the fans who have clamored and begged for more RP. We are super thrilled to announce we are officially in pre-production on all new episodes of the Retarded Policeman. More announcements will be coming your way soon. In the meantime, look for new RP episodes to hit the Mediocre films channel in the beginning of 2012.
Again, thanks everyone for your support over the years and get your giggles warmed up for all new RP episodes tickling your funny bones and pushing the envelopes of the uptight.
I’m very excited to do new episodes of RP. I love the show and I can’t wait to make new ones. It’s gonna rock. And thanks everybody for loving RP. It’s really fun to make them and it’s gonna be here soon so let’s get rockin’!
So, the Pepper Spray cop… of course, total dick. Old wrinkled bird-faced lady who ordered the removal of the peaceful protesters, totally stupid twat who should resign. The people who got the business end of the spraying… definitely feel for them and they should get some financial restitution for having that B.S. perpetrated on them.
That said, here are a few of my own takes on the Pepper Spray cop dickhead… enjoy!
ALL PHOTOSHOPPING PERPETRATED BY SAP (Scott Allen Perry)
The word of the day is, of course, PERPETRATED.
Again, I look at the line up of flicks Hollywood is pumping out and it’s all the SOS, that’s Same Ol’ Shit, they been excreting since they dropped into lazy land and decided the best way to make money is recycle things they already own, spend 30+ Million advertising it, and sheep (audiences) will pay to see it because they don’t know that other movies are actually out there.
The big shit sandwich here is that Hollywood could make good movies AND make original ones AND make money on them if they weren’t greedy fucking demons.
Why are there no real leading men and women in Hollywood anymore? They would eventually have to pay them more. They don’t want to be in the Lead Actor Gets 20 Million Per Movie business anymore. They want to be in the Flavor Of the Month is Star of New Shitty Franchise That will Just Reboot/Reinvent itself IF/WHEN disposable new star is big enough to demand pay raise.
Go to imdb.com and see for yourself all the new old shit coming down the tubes. Remakes, Comic Books, Reboots, Sequels… and all of them are going to suck. I said it. I will give myself a 5% error factor here. Meaning if 100 movies come out of the Hollywood machine 5 of them might not totally suck
Raise a toast with me to changing the game. I vow to make a feature film that won’t suck, will be original, will honor great movies that deserve a nod, will have good acting, and won’t waste hundreds of millions of dollars justifying the salaries of talentless assholes. I’M TALKING TO YOU GREEN LANTERN! GI JOE 2… YOUR ASS IS ON MY LIST TOO! SUPERMAN REBOOT SUCK MY ASS! NEW SPIDERMAN??? LICK A TURD IN HELL. I’ll show you how it’s done. I’ll keep you informed as to my progress but by the gods I SHALL MAKE A FEATURE FILM THAT WILL NOT BE A LAZY MARKETING PLOY DESIGNED TO MAKE MORE PROFIT FROM MCDONALD’S MERCHANDISING DEALS THAN ACTUAL TICKET SALES!
Cross fingers fellow movie lovers, I’m heading to the director’s chair, guns ablazin’!