This Week's New Yorker Caption Contest

Here is my entry in this weeks New Yorker Caption Contest. Each week they provide the image and you provide the caption.


"I hereby sentence you to three more weeks paid vacation!"




Here are this weeks nominees...





“She thinks her bomb bay makes her look fat.”
Submitted by Eric Schares
Portland, Ore.

“It's a pretty good aircraft, except that it keeps nagging you to ask for directions.”
Submitted by Adam Pfeffer
Boca Raton, Fla.

"She's a lover, not a fighter."
Submitted by Robert McLean
Tampa, Fla.

I entered...

The FAA required an extra three feet added to the landing gear.

Dog Toy Painting Series

I've started a series of still lives featuring my tiny six pound dog Carol's toys. This is "Long Dog". I've always enjoyed painting small, but I was surprised by how much I liked painting this picture which was a little larger than the others.

Also, I recently figured out the time-lapse function on my new camera, so I've been shooting time-lapse of everything! If you've got 4 minutes, I shot my entire day working on this painting. I like all the moments where I stare at my ipod with no expression on my face, and yes, I'm painting in the bathroom. That's the only room in the apartment where I can control the light.

So glamorous.

Long Dog Painting Time-lapse from Dan Scanlon on Vimeo.

Dan's Journal Entry

Michele and I spend two nights in L.A. last weekend at an ultra hip hotel on the sunset strip. I saw an awesome dude, pull up to the hotel's doors in a totally sweet Ferrari, step out in flip flops, sexy shorts, totally timeless faux-hawk and toss his keys to the valet, who simply replied, "Welcome back, sir."

So smooth.


And yet I couldn’t help but think it would have been slightly smoother had he not just run over some gum.

This Week's New Yorker Caption Contest

Here is my entry in this weeks New Yorker Caption Contest. Each week they provide the image and you provide the caption.


"If we’ve lost this guy the boss is gonna have us kill us!"





Here's the left overs...

Don’t worry, he’s sleeping with the birdies now.

I had to make room for my drums.

Slam on the brakes as hard as you can when we get to the edge of the lake and we should be fine.

The cement wasn’t totally dry yet.






Here's this weeks nominees...



“O.K., let's slowly lower in the grant money.”
Submitted by Todd Bearson
Arlington, Mass.

“Relax, for them it's publish and perish.”
Submitted by David Burns
Needham, Mass.

“The research is conclusive—mice are even cuter when you dress them up in little coats.”
Submitted by Brad Hodges
Dungannon, Ontario

I entered...

"I give this group the same pills I put in your coffee every morning."

Dog Toy Painting Series

I'm trying to keep in practice with my painting, so I'm starting a series of still lives featuring my tiny six pound dog Carol's toys. This is Carol's toy Mr. Toad. While I do these paintings I listen to the Adam Carolla Podcast on my ipod. I highly recommend it, he's funny as hell and it's free for now.

Oh yeah, and Sunday is my Birthday!

Dan's Journal Entry

The Cable Car Boogie

This morning I decided to take the cable car to work rather than the bus because I didn’t feel like sitting next to some one cutting their toenails.

The cable car cost three dollars more, but some days it’s just worth it. It’s packed with young attractive business people who look like they get their hair cut fresh every morning, standing and sitting quietly listening to ipods and reading graphs and charts that look like homework and make me happy I don’t have a real job. The cable car operators make inside jokes with the regulars and boost up children to ring the bell, and the tourist, in their summer shorts and flip flops, though it’s 55 degrees in San Francisco, sit smiling quietly studying the people and buildings around them; all very polite, very well mannered.

So I found myself standing up a little straighter, making extra room for ladies, and when I felt the need to clear my throat I didn’t just make the usual hacking sound that only me and old ladies in Chinatown make, which sounds like Chewbacca vomiting. I covered it up a bit; by turning my head and raising my hand to my mouth and disguising my horrible choking sound with a gentle sophisticated cough, and in doing this a quarter sized gob of phlegm shot out of my mouth, passed my hand, passed the guy behind me, and stuck to the door frame. I casually turned back around and looked out the window, pretending like nothing had happened.

As I stared out the window seemingly admiring the beauty of Grace Cathedral I shouted in my head, “Holy Shit! Did I just spit on the wall in front of all these people and then ignore it?” But what was I suppose to do, announce politely to the crowd, “Oh, how embarrassing, I’ve hauked a loogie on the wall. Anyone have a tissue or a kerchief?” Wouldn’t that have been worse for everyone?

But as the drop of phlegm slowly sagged longer and longer with time, I felt more and more shame. The cable car is nice, and now I’d spat on it. If everyone that spit on the cable car were too embarrassed to clean it up, then in time it would just be the bus. So, I waited for the next bump to jostle the car and pretended to get my balance by grabbing the door frame with my sleeve and slowly, very slowly wiped it down the edge of the door.

It’s gross, but better I be covered in my own mucus than the beautiful historic cable car. It’s important to keep some things respectable, so that there is still a nicer version of something to treat oneself to. I waited awhile longer, and eventually, when no one was looking, I glanced back to see phlegm smeared all the way down the door frame and now onto the window.

This Week's New Yorker Caption Contest

Here is my entry in this weeks New Yorker Caption Contest. Each week they provide the image and you provide the caption.


"The FAA required an extra three feet added to the landing gear."





Here's the leftovers...


They air show invitation said they expected “A tire formal”.

Did you pack the spare flats for later in the flight?

They’re really hurt the plane but they look great.

Do I have a run in my wing?

I’m a jet setter.

I’ll tell you why my plane has black ladies shoes on because it’s after labor day, and white would be inappropriate.

I’m a part of the special pre ops team.

Do you know how hard it is to find a woman’s size 200?





Here are this weeks nominees...




"Don't give me that holier-than-thou attitude!"
Submitted by Paul Greengross
Granada Hills, Calif.

"Which part of 'till death do us part' didn't you understand?"
Submitted by Caroline Johnston Polisi
New York, N.Y.

"I guess it really did kill you to call."
Submitted by Dorran Dihle
Seattle, Wash.

I entered...


"It's a good thing I'm drunker than you are!"

Dog Toy Painting Series

I wasn't able to do a painting this week as Michele and I are on vacation in L.A. But here's a funny picture of me the last time we stayed here drunk and break dancing at the Sky Bar. I was asked to stop because I was "upsetting some of the lady customers."

Hopefully I'll get some painting done next week!



* Notice the missing shoe. Classy.

Dan's Journal Entry

06/12/09

Last week Michele and I passed by the Cala Foods grocery store on our way home from dinner, I like walking by it because it smells like birthday cake, and Michele hates it because the parking lot is filled with drug addicts and hookers.

As we passed by we heard the familiar sounds of a crazy guy yelling somewhere off in the distance. I said, “ Oh, it’s time to play ‘Where’s the Crazy Guy?” Much like an approaching fire truck, the yelling got louder, but it didn’t seem to be coming from anywhere, until we crested the top of the hill and there he was, standing at the cross walk, his arms casually folded behind his back like someone standing up close to an oil painting at a museum, only instead of quietly pondering it’s beauty he was screaming, “It’s a conspiracy!”

Now, the thing that amazes me isn’t that I recognized this guy as being a fellow patron from two separate neighborhood bars. I’ve seen him once at the Hemlock smiling and talking quietly to himself, and several times as I’ve walked by a depressing dive bar on California street. I’ve seen him seated, again smiling and softly talking to himself, almost as if talking on a blue tooth phone, except there’s no phone. And though that is crazy, it’s functionally crazy. It’s someone who’s had too much to drink and is no longer aware that their lips are moving while they’re thinking. I’m sure I do this all the time. I’m probably doing it as I’m writing this.

No, what I find amazing is, if your brain is so full of “important” information that you can’t keep it from pouring out your mouth and all over the streets, if you can’t keep yourself from screaming this message as loud as possible, why wouldn’t you at least scream something more original than, “It’s a conspiracy!” That’s what everybody screams. That’s lazy crazy talk. But if you do decide to go for this over done genre of ranting at least have something bizarre, and original to follow it up with.

I don’t want to hear about the government or 9/11, that’s first draft crazy talk, you have to come up with something better than that, but unfortunately this guy didn’t. Instead he continued with, “ It’s a conspiracy! Elvis Presley did not die a natural death! It’s the bankers! The bankers killed Elvis Presley!”

Really? Elvis? That’s all you could come up with? Granted he gets a point or two for the bankers part, that was kind of weird, but Elvis is right up there with Aliens. It’s crazy guy 101. I like to hear the good stuff, the stuff you couldn’t possibly make up unless you’re REALLY nuts. If I’m gonna be forced to listen to it, at least make it totally insane. Maybe this city needs a good “Crazy Punch up Guy”. Like Bruce Vilanch is for the Oscars, we need a “street” Bruce Vilanch to come up with some original lunatic rants.

But I guess why bother to come up with something interesting, if everyone is just going to pretend not to hear you. Which is exactly what we did as we passed him. And as we continued up the hill, so did he. Like a stealthy private dick, he casually walked one full block behind us, breaking eye contact and looking at his shoes whenever I turned back to see if he was still following us, and doing all of this while continuing to scream about Elvis and bankers. But after about three blocks he passed a bar with its door open and stepped inside. I’m sure he quietly asked to see a cocktail menu, sat down at the bar, smiled and began quietly muttering crazy stuff to himself, and I bet that stuff, is the good stuff.

Tracy's First Film Festival Announced!

It looks like we got into our first film festival! The Detroit Windsor 2nd annual International Film Festival listed their line up today and our film Tracy is included in the documentary section of the program. It's a little strange seeing as Tracy is a fake documentary, but I suppose people will figure that out somewhere near the end. So if you live in the Detroit/Windsor area this is a great opportunity to see our movie as well as some other very interesting looking films. Tracy is screening on June 27th at 9PM at the Wayne State Law School, tickets are about $9. This screening is actually taking place before the Michigan Cast and Crew screening at the Main Art theater, so if you couldn't make that, this is another chance to see the film.

I'll keep you informed as I hear back from more festivals throughout the summer and fall.

P.S. No New Yorker Caption Contest this week, as every so often they do a two week contest. Check back next week for more!

Dan

Dog Toy Painting Series

I'm trying to keep in practice with my painting, so I'm starting a series of still lives featuring my tiny six pound dog Carol's toys. This is her mouse toy. I didn't have a lot of time to do this one, I have a wedding to go to tonight so I had to work quick!

Dan's Journal Entry

06/05/09

Walking to Victor’s pizza yesterday, Michele and I passed through a stretch of sidewalk covered in what I can only hope was a yellowish brown mess of dog shit, but was probably more likely, sick, homeless junkie shit. It had been stepped in by several people and possibly a dog or two, and was tracked all over about a block and a half of the sidewalk. There was so much of it that it actually seemed to build with each step rather than fade. It was as if the person tracking it hadn’t just stepped in poo, but was actually wearing shoes made of poo.

After leaving the restaurant we headed back toward the poop-stacle course, when a young sporty lady in workout clothes came striding ahead of us talking on her cel phone. But just as she was about to enter the minefield a very old Asian lady standing in the gutter slowly lifted her cane, pointed to the sidewalk and calmly said, “Ka ka”. And to all of our surprise the young woman, still deep in conversation, simply glanced over at the old lady, then down at the sidewalk, and without stopping, leaned over, reached down, and picked up a paper plate amongst the mess and continued down the street. But as she began to walk over to a trash can, I realized that she’d assumed the old woman was asking her to throw out the plate, to do her part for the city she lives in, and help rid San Francisco of it’s unsightly litter. And as she undoubtedly patted herself on the back, walking toward the trash can, the mostly white paper plate, blown back by the wind, curled up and down in her grip, and with every step, gently patted her on the knuckles with yellowy brown feces hidden just underneath the plate.

Michele Let's it Rip!

Michele has a classy new Loiterer About Town called ,"Let it Rip" in today's SFAppeal. Check it out!