NOW SHOWING @ deadCenter Film Fest

Friday, June 11th at Midnight.
http://deadcenter.bside.com/2010/films/freerangeasshole_deadcenter2010

Big Ol’ Tire Fire’s short film about an idiot who drags his wife along on a mission to prove the existence of a fabled creature.

Much love,
Miranda

An MMMMMMMMMM-Note

In the spring of 1969, I was training for a decathlon under Walt Rostow, along with Jack Lemmon and some others of LBJ’s staff. I was the horse we were betting on, the others were just to round out the team – for camaraderie and encouragement and what have you.

Me on the field of glory

The training schedule was grueling, but by late February, Lemmon and I had managed to put together the financing for a new XXX film loosely based on a book by James Leo Herlihy. Of course, by the time the picture came out, it starred Jon Voight and *Dennis Hoffman and was rated X. But, by then, we were sitting pretty on an island in the Caribbean with fifty $10, 000 bills and did not give a care. But that is another story. (*not a typo – Dustin gets credit for his look-alike cousin’s performances in most of his early films – yet another story.

Walsh; file photo

One particular afternoon training session at Rice Stadium had been going well until Brendon Walsh showed up to taunt us from the bleachers. Lemmon had finally gotten his forty under forty-five, so we were drinking beer and tossing the javelin.  Walsh started yelling sissy this and pussy javelin that, and Lemmon, without saying a word, picked up a discus and chucks it at him. It didn’t hit him, but that was the farthest he’s ever thrown the discus, so the team was pretty excited and kinda forgot about Brendon, who was fetching  the disc. He found it and hucked it back at us, falling way short and knocking over the Dr. Pepper cooler.

General Westmoreland literally flew at Brendon, who was already storming down the bleachers two at a time. A lightning bolt erupted into the sky when their bodies clashed on ninth row.

Westmoreland being a pain in the ass to rest of the world

Westmoreland was worn out from training all afternoon, so Brendon easily got the best of him. We were all sick of Wes’s shit and Cambodia by that time, so we were slow to break it up and we were all friends again within minutes, except Westmoreland, who went back to Austin on the bus that night.

The whole gang spent the night at Judy Garland’s house in West University, doing Whip-Its and DMT. Jeff Beck threw up.

We miss you already

Hey everyone.  I’m Jason Andres from Big ‘Ol Tire Fire.  That’s a picture of me from Stonehenge.  Notice my comedic irreverance and silly devil-may-care attitiude.  That’s a clear sign that you are dealing with a Jason Andres, for sure.

If you’re like me you probably google yourself some 35 times a day.  Am I right? I mean, really, what else is there to do?

What gets me lately is the ridicule I’ve been receiving from some people who think it a little obsessive of me to fixate so much on my ‘online persona’.  They don’t get it.   But hey, I’m a member of an elite club – I’m a Jason Andres – and membership requires I wear a lot of half shirts and stay on point.  To show you exactly what I mean, I have chosen to highlight a few members of this sacred fraternity – my brethren – the other Jason Andres’:

Here’s a good example.  We’re festive.  We’re fun.   And, not only do Jason Andres’ look good against blue backgrounds, but we look almost saintly framed in leaf borders.  This one’s expression says: “Hello, I’m Jason Andres, and when I get done doing this really important thing I’m doing, I’m going to have sex with you.”  A classic Jason Andres look, to be sure.

Here we are being cocky again.  Busted!  This is the kind of Jason Andres who would love nothing more than to explain the pros and cons (who am I kidding – their really aren’t any) to installing and maintaining your very own koi pond.  You’d probably even get into his car if it were raining and you had been out looking for your missing dog all afternoon, and he rolled up and somehow knew your full name and address and had a nice hot cup of cocoa in one hand and your dog’s collar in the other. That’s how we do it.  It’s in the trusting eyes of a Jason Andres.  Dog lovers, one and all.

Jason Andres is a master of commerce, but he’s also not afraid to get his hands dirty, as demonstarted by one of our rural namesakes here.  He can also strike a casual pose ‘on the fly’.  Notice the toe-to-ground /  heel-up position of the right foot.  That’s relaxed!  This particular Jason Andres just took a dump at a Dairy Queen.  Didn’t even eat.  Just went in for the dump.

We’re winners – plain and simple.  Jason Andres’ set their sights high – so high, in fact, that they find it hard to breathe when they get to where they’re going becuase the oxygen is so damn thin…cause it’s so..high up..like as in elevation.  Also, it’s lonely at the top.  Jason Andres’ know the loneliness of the winner’s circle.  They’ve worn the green blazer!  They’ve hoisted the cup over their heads!  They’ve felt the stinging spray of champagne on their private parts in a locker room!

So as you can see it’s a hell of a club I’m in.  And you thought I was the wondrous and compelling one – HA !  We’re all just doing our part, one Jason Andres at a time.  And yeah, admittedly I enjoy being the first Jason Andres to pop up on a google search .   But I have a feeling it won’t be for long.  I’m pretty sure there’s a young Jason Andres out there right now just waiting to take that #1 spot from me.  And unto him I say:

Come and get it muthaf***a!!!!

If you have something to promote that is funny feel free to hit me up. And check back each week for a new episode.