December 4, 2010
BOB 10:14 AM
Is it 10:14? I don’t know. Really, it’s February of 2012, but nobody cares about that. Back in early December of 2010, I recall that I woke up at some stranger’s house in Baltimore and then I sashayed through the cold sunlight to find the car. Hey look, I just noticed that we have right here a video and photo that might explain in images and sound what I just wrote with words. I’m not even gonna watch it and see. So, find out for yourself, if you want.
After that adventure, I embarked on another and drove across the city to retrieve Chad from his #1 fan’s house. Fan/gal lived in the nether regions of Baltimore and when Chad finally emerged from her compound, he was beset with soon-to-be flotsam and jetsam in the form of various parting gifts and memorabilia with which Chad will surely put to good use fondly reminiscing of his luxurious one night stay in this fair city. Of this, I am certain.
Then we drove. At some point, we made the following videos:
Hey, Jim James called us. He’s sweet on us for sure.
BOB 6:66 PM
An old film pal of mine hooked us up with a screening locale in Philly. I met Doug Sackman when he worked for Troma several years back. He’s got a pilot for a show called Strip for Pain. Look it up if you don’t believe me.
I’m sure he makes great non-porn movies, so don’t act like I’m trying to pigeon hole the fucker. But I’m also not aiming to bury the lead. Doug makes movies with hard core fucking in them. Specifically, he makes these fucky movies with Joanna Angel and a wet, money-shot of gore. That’s right, he’s a purveyor of fine zombie porn, complete with tons of blood and guts and fucking and sucking. Hell, he even made an Exorcist homage porn with puking and pounding and puking on top of piles of fucking. Savor that flavor, America!
Anyway, he set up tonight’s screening.
We scored two great write-ups. We didn’t land a huge crowd, but the folks who did show up feigned interest real good.
Here’s a hunk of media hype courtesy of the Philadelphia Weekly:
Bob Ray’s Down & Dirty Austin Film Tour
Screenings of acclaimed documentary films are generally more exciting when both director and subject are on the run from the law. Drugs, competitive rodent breeding, bone-crushing violence and gross-out cartoons are standard during Bob Ray’s Down & Dirty Austin Film Tour. First there’s Total Badass, which follows Austin denizen Chad Holt as he deals with a felony probation, selling weed, family drama and the difficulties of raising guinea pigs with his girlfriend. Holt and director Bob Ray will be present for a Q&A. The second feature, Hell on Wheels, also directed by Ray, follows the rebirth of roller derby, the gentlest of sports. There’ll also be animated episodes of the filthy CrashToons between features. Hopefully the evening will end without the stars getting arrested. -Alli Katz
We also got some press from the Philly daily newspaper. It was good. It’s probably online somewhere.
CHAD 7:02 PM
I’ll go ahead and tell you the funniest thing to happen in Philadelphia right here and now. I have this buddy from out there who I know from when he lived here in Austin for several years, but now he’s back out in Philly. When I say “now” he’s back out in Philly, I mean he also lived there over a year ago when I was in town and supposed to be keeping this tour journal. I’m sure plenty of other wonderful things happened in Philadelphia when we were there, but this is the one I remember for sure. I’m going to go ahead and leave old boy nameless, since this isn’t the most flattering story about him, but here’s how it went down. He lives a little bit out of the city with a serious girlfriend, so the plan was that they were going to roll into town, pick up one of his drinking buddies, and head into Fishtown where we were right in time for the movie screening. We’d talked on the phone that day and everything was running smoothly. I got a phone call from him about an hour before the film, but it was a pocket dial. I listened along for a little bit, and could tell that he was in the car with his girl and the friend, driving around the city getting all fucked up before the show. I’d never met the girlfriend or the drinking buddy, mind you, these were just voices in the car, so I’m piecing this all together like some sort of high tech sleuth while I listen along. Eventually I got bored, hung up, and ate a bowl of chef-boyardee that I bought from a vending machine in the breakroom of the little artfag complex we were in there while a dog ate one of Bob’s toenails. (Wasn’t it here that the dog ate your toenail, Bob?) About 30 minutes later, I get another pocket dial from my buddy and I notice things are really starting to reach a fever pitch over on the other end. I could just tell from the sounds and the volume levels and speech patterns and shit, these people were really wasted, and I started to seriously doubt that they were going to make it by showtime. Sure enough, the movie is soon about halfway over with no sign of these folks, but I did get a few more phone calls. By about the fifth one, I pick up and all I hear is the woman screaming, “….dumb son of a bitch! You wrecked my fucking car!” I could tell by the Doppler Effect that everyone was outside the vehicle, running from the scene. The girlfriend was cussing out my buddy, who was all panicked and the friend was just goading him along, telling him to run. Next call I get, they’ve obviously reached shelter somewhere, and my friend is literally in tears, whimpering, taking about, “You never take my side. Why is it always my fault? I just want to go and see…” and homegirl just cuts him off, “I know, I know! You just want to go and see Chad Fucking Holt and his fucking movie because he’s SO fucking important!” I just want to say that, even though I’d never met this girl before, it pleased me to no end to know what a profound effect I had obviously had on her life and relationship with this man just by proxy. You want to know the best part? Obviously they never show up, and the next day I get a text from him, and all it says is, “Sorry man. Girlfriend got all drunk.”
CHAD 3:15 A.M
No, but really, Philadelphia was fun. Doug Sackman really put together a cool deal there for us and took care of us. I got to see my old Rank and Revue buddy Isaac Friese, but John Warner was conspicuously absent. Bob and I partied into the night with Sackman, Friese, this girl Sarah, and a guy named Hector from El Paso. Sarah had teats like a milk sow, this much I know for sure. We could have all nested at her bosom without a runt in the litter.
BOB 3:16 AM
What Chad said. Thanks, Doug. Thanks Sarah. Hector, you were there also.
November 29, 2010
3:40 PM – CHAD
It seemed like we were in New York for about four months… not that I’m complaining. I told you about how I lost my camera in the city about three nights ago, the night of that screening in Manhattan, right? I even called the theatre and everything, and they eventually called Bob back and told him they never found the camera. This is something that Bob will remember personally, and it is important that I have him as a witness. I also told you way back on the first day of the trip how we got all those pills in Houston, didn’t I? Well, I want you to know that up until now, I’ve been very proud of myself as far as the pill intake is concerned. As I mentioned, we got about forty valiums and forty somas. Well, I have been very careful to take the valiums one night and then the somas the next, never mixing the two. I know it might sound ridiculous to a normal person to hear this, but I honestly take that as a sign that I’m growing up. I have a problem, however. I mean, beyond the drug problem… I have a dilemma. If I lost the camera last Friday, the day after Thanksgiving, then what the fuck was I doing in B&H Electronics on Thanksgiving itself looking for a camera to replace the one I had already lost? Or, let me put it this way. If I had already lost my camera by Thanksgiving, then why was I convinced that I had used and lost it at The Tank a night later and kept calling them on the phone and shit? I obviously don’t know what the hell has been going on, do I?
Here’s what I know for sure. It was absolutely Thanksgiving when I went to B&H Electronics, because they are a hardcore Jewish business with the hats and tassels and everything and strictly follow the Jewish calendar, which is the only reason they were open on Thanksgiving, to begin with. This place gets absolutely slammed with business, and has easily the most intricate anti-shoplifting measures in place of any store I’ve ever been in. You don’t even get to touch your merchandise until after it has been bought and paid for, and you are on your way out the door. To sum it up briefly, you go up to a guy who has the camera you want bolted down on a fucking table, ok? You tell him you want the camera, so he points you to a line and tells you, go wait over there and tell another guy that you want the Vado 4GB Camcorder in purple, because that’s the only color even close to appropriate that is left in stock. This second guy then prints you out an order form, which you take to a line with a bunch of cashiers. You give a cashier the order form, and they charge you for the camera. You pay for the camera, having not even touched the fucker yet. Then, the cashier gives you a receipt that you take to a fourth person who finally gives you your camera on your way out the door. I go and buy a camera on Thanksgiving, with Raphael and Lara Pan waiting outside. I go through the whole rigmarole and check point bullshit, pay about a hundred and fifty bucks for the camera, and finally have it handed to me on the way out. I walk through the doorway, and a fucking alarm goes off. This guy comes up to me and asks me if he can see my receipt for the camera. Keep in mind; they don’t even let you touch your merchandise until after you’ve paid for it in this shylock shithole. I told the guy the same thing I tell the people at Wal-Mart and elsewhere who do the same shit… you know, the people who aren’t even the police to begin with, and even if they were, they wouldn’t have the right to accuse you of theft with no proof, thus no right to search you, but Americans let them rile through their bags every day? Those people… I always tell them no, of course you can’t search through my shit, are you out of your goddamn mind? I usually start out saying that in a bit nicer manner, but inevitably the conversation always devolves into rudimentary phrases such as the previous one. Well, I get into it with this guy, and I really think that he thought he could just search people’s shit anytime he liked. To make sure, he asked me to wait while he went and got his supervisor. By now, a crowd had gathered, and I told him please do, go get everybody right up the chain, so that eventually there are like five Jews there in the doorway telling me I have to show them a receipt before I can leave with the camera. Somewhere along the way, I realized that I had a bunch of weed and some pills in my pockets, so I had to abandon my initial plan, which was to just walk out into the streets dragging all these Jews with me until the police came and broke the whole thing up. My fantasy was that after the cops stopped the fight and were stripping everyone down, they would find the receipt in my pocket and I would be fully vindicated, and maybe even become some sort of local hero in the New York media and then just move there and host the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade from time to time. In reality, the police would have found all the drugs and arrested me for possession, along with assault and battery, shoplifting, and all kinds of other stuff. This was the first time in my life that I can really point to and say that drugs held me back. I had to settle with singling out the head rabbi and telling him look, I’ll give you my receipt, but I also want you to take this camera and stick it up your ass, then walk back through all those lines in there and get me my money back. I might even have taken the opportunity to remind everybody how far we were from the West Bank, at least in geographical terms. By the time I got back outside, Raphael and Lara were like, what the fuck took you so long? I know this was on Thanksgiving, because we went to George and Virginia’s house after that and I was bitching about the experience all night, in addition to having to shit really bad and watching the Longhorns lose to the Aggies.
I know this for sure, too. The night that I have been convinced I lost the camera on all the way up until this point (Late January) when I am actually sitting down here and writing this shit was November 26th, 2010 also known as the only night we showed the movie at The Tank in Manhattan. I can remember having it in my Astros jacket pocket at one point when I was talking to George Gierer out in front of the Pork Slap place, and I remember using it to film the introduction and/or question and answer portion of our program. Now, how in the hell could I have still had the camera a day after I was trying to buy a new one to replace it? The only logical explanation is that we have been traveling back through time on this whole trip and I don’t want to rule that out, but I think I might just be all fucked up and have no idea what I’m talking about. Except this: It is now Monday, November 29th (four days after Thanksgiving) and we are in the car leaving Manhattan to haul ass to Providence, Rhode Island in time for a screening tonight, but not before we stop back by B&H Electronics so I can buy that fucking camera… again…
7:15 PM – BOB
I’ve never been to Rhode Island. I don’t know a single person in or from the entire state. We’ll see what she has in store for us. My gut tells me that this week will be a bit of a slow-crawl, but I’m hoping that the Fri/Sat 1-2 punch of Baltimore & Philly will kick us back into high gear before we besiege the south once again.
8:58 PM – CHAD
We’re at The Cable Car Cinema in Providence and Total Badass is about to start. Here’s the Introduction, the very first thing I filmed on the new Vado camera, which sucks by the way:
9:10 PM – CHAD
While the crowd enjoys the movie, I have walked over to The Wild Colonial Tavern, where I will meet up with Bob in a bit. The tavern was pretty cool, but not near as cool as this butthole I filmed on the way over there. This was the second butthole I found on the trip, if you recall correctly (the first one was on St. Augustine Beach, Florida) but this one is manmade, while the first one was definitely a carbon based life form.
1:45 AM – CHAD
We ended up staying with a girl named Ally who worked at the Cable Car Cinema, but that was actually all a big coincidence because we had already been hooked up with her by Raphael’s roommate, Anna before we ever knew where she worked. Anna and Ally were friends back at The Rhode Island School of Design (RISD) which all the locals here pronounce as RIZ-DUH. Ally had a very nice place, a really cool quilt, and a cat that we were lead to believe would try anything to escape. I don’t remember the cat’s name, so I’m sticking with Dragon. As in, “Jonathan Brisby made possible the rats’ escape from the terrible cruelty of NIHM. He was killed today while drugging the farmer’s cat, Dragon.”