The Biggest Ass Kicking I've Ever Taken

 I can honestly say that I've taken a movie level ass whopping at least once in my life, the kind of ass whopping that leaves a man stumbling through a crowded bar covered in his own blood. The kind of ass kicking that I am lucky to walk away from without any lingering consequences. Unsurprisingly this story takes place in a bar.

There's a town called Whitby east of Toronto that actually has a really lively night life, weekends always have a celebratory feel over there. The small downtown core gets so crowded with people looking to have a good time that it spills out into the street and the party gets taken outside just about every other weekend. It's important you know that because I want you to understand just how crowded this bar was and how many people were witness to the beat down I took. It's in these testosterone filled environments that a very specific type of asshole likes to lurk, this is the kind of asshole who gets drunk and then goes around looking for fights to get into. He puffs out his chest like a gorilla and glares threateningly at everyone who dares to have a bigger d**k than he does. Good luck avoiding him. If he doesn't like your face he's going to find you and this guy really must not have liked my face because he tried to rearrange it.

THE CONFRONTATION:

I went to the bars that night with a group of about 6 people, we went to a crowded club that I wasn't feeling so I left along with another friend for the more chill pub across the street. It was crowded but nothing like the club we'd just left, we were even able to find a table along the back wall. We ordered pints and settled in, I barely started mine when a group of about 5 guys walked past our table. The second last guy to walk past carelessly knocked over my entire glass and kept walking, the last guy to walk past noticed and sympathetically said that he would talk to his friend. In retrospect I should have just asked the waitress for a replacement glass but when you're 22 you can't just let something like that go. What kind of classless dipshit knocks over a man's beer and doesn't offer to pay for the drink, like...man code. Am I right? I felt punked. I knew I still had the sympathetic ear of at least one of that group of friends so I decided to head down to the small crowded hallway leading to the washrooms where they were standing and have a talk with them. Why were they all hanging around the washroom? I didn't even stop to think how weird that was until just now but that's where they all were; just hanging out by the washroom like a bunch of beer spilling pervs. As well as I can remember this was the conversation that took place in that hallway.

TOM

Hey, buddy you knocked my pint over.

BEER SPILLING COWARD

So? It was an accident

ARRRRRRRRRRRRGGG that annoyed me when he said that. So he DID know that he knocked over my drink and still never offered to pay for it; he noticed and he still just kept walking. Think of how classless that is. Cool people pay for a man's drink if they knock it over, really cool people make a joke out of it and turn the whole experience into a positive one with a fresh beer as your reward for accepting his apology. Imagine if Bill Murray knocked over your beer, he'd turn that into the night of your life. He'd pay for your table, he'd knock over his own beer comedically, it would end up on the internet and everyone would ask you about it.

 

This guy wasn't Bill Murray. He was the opposite of Bill Murray, he was Murray Bill. He knocked over a man's drink and refused to pay for it even when he was confronted about it. 

 TOM

You're paying for it!

BEER SPILLING COWARD

Noooo. It was an accident.

That's as far as that conversation would go because appearing from around the corner was THE asshole. I never turned to look at him, I kept my glare on the man who owed me money. Out of the corner of my eye I could make out a big, fat, sweaty gorilla charging my way.

STUPID APE

Get the F**K out of here right now.

TOM

(Never turning his stare from the man who owed him money, dismissive of this new threat)

F**k you.

STUPID APE

I dare you to say F**K me one more time.

TOM

(while turning to face his attacker)

F**K Y...

He hit me. I didn't even have my head turned towards him, he took the coward's opportunity for a sucker punch. When you get nailed with a heavy blow like that there's no pain, there's just a buzzing. A vibrating. Confusion. I was on the floor, I realized I'd been hit and tried to get back up. More buzzing. Everything was blurry, I felt really tired. I remembered what happened, I knew I was hit by someone standing over me shouting with the crowd. I knew I'd been hit several more times when I was down, wide open. I was told later by a witness that after I was hit the first time he followed me to the ground and punched and kicked me a few more times in the face. I wasn't out though, I never went out. He hit me with everything he had and he couldn't keep me down, that's what I take away from this fight. I wasn't going to stay down, I was pissed. My plan was to get up, shake it off and get revenge as soon as I was able to get my body working again. I got to my feet, at that point the hallway had filled with spectators and the bar was in an uproar. I was COVERED in my own blood and couldn't walk straight. I remember my instinct being to get some space, I needed to recover for a minute. I had to get some motor control back before I went after what I could now for the first time see was a large, fat, drunk hillbilly who was at that point taunting the hostile crowd. I moved to take the fight outside.

I was drenched in my own blood and wobbling around as I tried to make my way out into the street; fully intending on continuing this fight. The bartender was screaming at my attacker that he's been in too many fights in his bar and now he was banned. I made my way to the door, my attacker was in tow. RIGHT when I got to the door I ran into my other friends who had just left the club, I still remember the shock on their faces. They were looking at a zombie who kind of resembled the friend they had last seen only minutes before. Right behind my friends were the police, one friend guided me into an ambulance and begged me to press charges, I regret to this day that I didn't listen to him. There was a part of me that wanted to find this guy myself and another part of me who genuinely couldn't remember how the fight started and was having trouble processing information. The police saw that I was in no condition for questions so they told me to take their card, go home and recover and call them in the morning if I wanted to press charges. During that time my other friends had gotten into a confrontation with the group of guys who spilled my beer and the fat hillbilly who jumped me. The hillbilly ran to his car and sped off with the chicken s**t who knocked over my beer and the two spent the night blowing each other, probably. Outside the bar waiting for the cab home I was approached by people who saw what happened. They offered what information they had on the guy, I never got his name but I know he has a twin brother also from Whitby and the two were well known for starting fights in the area.

The next day, clear headed I used the card the officer gave me and called to press charges. He didn't answer, I left messages, he didn't respond. I always hoped that knowing he was a twin would narrow the list of suspects enough to where I could track this guy down myself but it never worked out. Everyone I knew from Whitby had never heard of him, his trail ran cold and eventually I had to let it all go. I hear Christians say they forgive their attackers, I hear survivors saying they've managed to forgive acts of violence against them far more severe than getting popped in head from behind by some smelly orangutang but I am just not wired that way. I hate that guy. I'll always hate that guy, I'll never forgive what he did. It was cowardly and dangerous. If anyone is reading this and knows a twin from Whitby who liked to get in fights every weekend, look him dead in the eye for me and call him a 'bitch'. Then call his twin brother over and do the same to him.

-Thomas Holler-

Men Should Be the Ones Buying Scented Candles.

So, Tom wants to try copy writing. Copy writing can take a few forms but most commonly its a position in advertising where you're tasked with coming up with the ideas for ad campaigns. I could be good at that, or at least I could learn to be good at that. I figure the best way I can get myself onto that path is by writing up a few samples so I am going to choose a product that I use personally and try to come up with an ad campaign for. I'll sell it to you and write a short commercial for the product, something I can use in a beginners portfolio.

The product I've chosen is: SCENTED CANDLES

If I am asked to come up with a campaign for scented candles I focus on selling these things to men. Selling scented candles the male audience has to be a candle maker's dream, if they could make their product feel essential to men the way it does with women then they've got to be doubling their customer base. I don't think it's that hard a sell either. Scented candles mask stinky smells, men account for 98% of all stinky smells. It follows. I myself buy scented candles, as you can see by that Dollarama sticker I pay $3 for them. I don't like paying $3 at the dollar store, that's usually the store's highest price point. When I see something for $3 I really ask myself if I need it, and y'know what? In this case I did. I am a guy who does guy things and makes guy smells in my modest Toronto apartment that I share with my little roommate Gizzy McStinks. My place can get smelly.

Pictured: Gizzy McStinks

Yet even if a girl wanted to do an unannounced pop by I still had it covered, I kept a Scented Candle on my coffee table at all times. Five minutes after lighting one of those and my apartment would smell like a fruit orchard and the dancing flames provided me with some mood lighting. A mood that the horrible, screaming neighbor children and sometimes even Gizzy McStinks herself would spend the rest of the night trying to kill, but they don't make a candle to help with that. I honestly think if marketed properly scented candles can become a staple of the single man's grocery list and since the idea of a man buying a scented candle conjures up associations of femininity; that's rich comedy territory. I propose this online ad campaign:

Glade Scented Candle 30 Second Internet/TV Commercial

VIDEO	AUDIO
INTERIOR/A MAN’S APARTMENT: A Caucasian man (Mike) in his late 20’s is sitting in his small apartment with his dog, he has a messy apartment with dirty laundry all over the place and old food sitting in dirty plates. His phone lights up, showing that he got a text from a pretty girl. “Hey, I am in the area, I am going to pop by”. Mike jumps up and looks around his nasty apartment, he takes a sniff of the air and recoils from how bad the air smells.	Sound of the TV in the foreground, music. Cell phone sound, tense/up tempo music
Mike springs up and throws all his laundry into a bag, he takes all his gross plates and hides them in a drawer below the sink. He notices that he hasn’t taken his garbage out yet; it stinks. He races out to the incinerator with the bags of garbage. He gets another text. “Hey, I am coming up to your building now”	The music quickens in pace Cell phone text sound
Mike runs back into his apartment, it still smells. He looks down at his dog, realizing that he’s a strong source of the stink. He sprays the dog with cologne but it still smells, he tries spraying the air but it doesn’t work. Another text. “Here. I’ll be up in a minute”	Tense music continues to build Cell phone text sound
Frantically he goes through his drawers and finds a jasmine scented candle. He’s not convinced that this will help but he’s out of options. He fumbles to find a lighter and lights it in a hurry.	Sound of things being shuffled around.
ELEVATOR: Shots of a beautiful women coming up in an elevator.	Elevator chime

APARTMENT: Mike is flapping his arms wildly, trying to fan the scented smoke throughout the apartment.	The music builds
ELEVATOR: The woman reaches her floor and heads out.	The music build to a stop.
APARTMENT: The women knocks on the door and opens it, Mike and her make eye contact. The woman steps inside and stops. She sniffs. Mike, starts to feel mortified; thinking she smells all the gross smells he’s hiding. Mike is dumbfounded, he can’t believe the candle worked. He looks at it with a face full of shock and discovery, like he’s just found the Holy Grail.	Sound of knocking. MIKE: Hi Woman: Hi Woman: Mmmmm, it smells good in here. Is that jasmine? Mike: Yeah…it does.?.
INTERIOR/APARTMENT: Mike is having a get together with his guy friends at his bachelor pad. As the men pass by Mike’s washroom one of them remarks on the large scented candle Mike has displayed proudly by the toilet.	FRIEND 1: Did your mom buy you that? Laughter
Mike and his friends watch the game, the whole time they’re all pigging out of junk food. Mike heads to the washroom but it’s occupied, He knocks on the door. One of his friends comes out, he’s a large man and he’s holding his gut like he just did something awful in that washroom. He did. It smells appalling; the whole room can smell it and they all react.	Sound of the TV Cheering, high fiving, eating Knocking Everyone in the room erupts into noise once the washroom door is open and the cloud of toxic gas is let out.
INTERIOR/WASHROOM Mike lights his scented candle to cover the smell
INTERIOR/APARTMENT The men on the couch smell something, they’re sniffing the air with intrigue. Whereas moments ago the air around them made them gag; now some magic has filled the air with the smell of a flowery meadow. What is this?	Sniffing sounds

 

INTERIOR/WASHROOM Mike is finishing up, he flushes the toilet and leaves. When he opens the  door he finds a hallway full of his curious friends, they’re following a captivating smell. It’s the scented candle. Mike walks past them. The men look in on the candle with expressions of awe and discovery, like they’ve just seen the Holy Grail.	Toilet flushing
INTERIOR/APARTMENT/EVENING: Mike and the woman are cuddled up on the couch, the soft flicker of a scented candle lights the room romantically.	“Fellas, let me introduce you to the Scented Candle by Glade. You could use one of these”

A Voice Over The Phone Tells You To Kill Your Best Friend

That's a creepy title for a post.

When you don't have a large budget, location scouting is probably the trickiest part of film making. It's HARD to find good, shootable indoor locations, you're pretty much reliant on whatever connections you have and whatever locations they're able to wrangle up. In the case of the team I work with we have no one helping us, we've rarely had any luck securing any extravagant locations so we've always been forced to be a little more creative.

Not long ago I was asked if I could come up with a crime, suspense script that took place in one location (a hotel room) and featured a violent death at the end. That's a LOT of restriction to work under for a writer but personally I like it that way, I like being reigned in. If you give me too much freedom I think too much, it's harder to settle on one idea when you have unbound imagination. It's just too much choice. I find it easier to focus when my options are more limited, it actually forces you to be more creative.

I am really proud of what I came up with.

Gabe and Calin have just committed a horrible crime under the order of a mysterious voice on the phone. When Calin leaves to get rid of the evidence the phone rings. The voice on the other line gives Gabe one last order, only one of them is allowed to leave that hotel room. Will Gabe strike first before Calin can hear the ultimatum or will he run and leave everything behind before he gets back?

GABE enters the hotel room, his black coat the only thing covering the large spatters of red on his white shirt underneath. His pale and panicked face is covered in red smears, he looks over to a single phone sitting in a dark corner of the room on a table. He’s fixated on it for a moment and then notices that he’s covered in blood. He rushes into the washroom and THROWS WATER on his face, he’s shaking and violently nervous.

THE PHONE RINGS this sends GABE into a panic, he’s terrified to answer the phone. After 3 long RINGS he finally answers; nearly in tears.

Gabe

Hello?

The Voice

You’re back? Gabe?

Gabe

Yes

The Voice

Both of you are there?

Gabe

No, I don’t know what happened to Calin

The Voice

Did you do it?

Gabe

Yes

The Voice

Was it you or Calin?

Gabe

Calin killed him

The Voice

Stay there, wait for him. Wait for my call.

Read the rest HERE...

And follow me on instagram: thomasholler

http://instagram.com/p/K8vLN/

Do you like selfies and pictures of people's dogs? Then join Tom on instagram...because that's pretty much all he has on there.

So I am curious as to how many new followers on instagram I can get if I start linking it within this blog. I currently only have an embarrassing 35 followers but if I start pimping out my instagram handle: thomasholler as HARD as I can to all my readers over and over I think we can get that number up to 40. If that number starts to rise then I'll start to make a conscious effort to make my instagram good, until then it remains a sobering look into the life of a single writer in Toronto who F**king LOVES his dog.

Add me on instagram: thomasholler

http://instagram.com/p/dI4gLEuaSZ/#

http://instagram.com/p/ZOO89fOaRY/#

http://instagram.com/p/a3TnPYuaZq/#

-APE-

CANADA - Slow and Steady Wins the Race.

I recently got into an argument about ice cream where someone scoffed at my preference for vanilla over every other flavor. People associate vanilla with words like 'plain' and 'boring' but vanilla's a legit flavor. It's a flavor the same way chocolate and strawberry are flavors and in my opinion it's the best one. I don't even like putting toppings on my ice cream, if vanilla's the best flavor (which has been scientifically proven by my studies) then adding anything to it is just making it into a lesser ice cream. I feel the same way about cheesecake but that's another article. Anyway it was a surprisingly heated discussion...and here's the thing, I've had this argument a few times before. I can count at least three times that I've had an argument over ice cream and zero times I've ever had an argument about Canadian politics.

Getting into a heated argument over Canadian politics is next to impossible for the average Canadian, being a 4 party system means we're not so polarized as a voting populous. Having a four party system means that for the most part; there aren't such chasmic differences between the parties. Less chasmic differences between parties correlates to less fighting between parties, less fighting between parties means less news coverage and less news coverage leads to me feeling the need to google who our Prime Minister is just now; just to be sure. I live in Toronto and I am around people all day, I pass by thousands of strangers and hear hundreds of conversations each week. I can't remember the last time I heard anyone having a discussion about Canadian politics. World politics; sure. That's not uncommon. Toronto is the most multi-cultural city in the world and everyone here is acutely tuned into the news from abroad but you'll never find anyone discussing the latest RCMP probe that found Senator Pamela Wallin guilty of billing tax payers a little over $80,000 for falsified travel expenses. Yeah that story's annoying, that chick should pay for her own damn travel. You make a nice salary, don't ask for everything to be free. Still though; as far as headlines go $80k is a pretty unsexy number.

That's Canada though, we don't have much drama and we don't give the papers much to talk about. We haven't really had a national tragedy in a while, no disasters to get us talking. We don't live under fear of attack from enemy nations, which is usually a huge talking point for WAY too many countries. We're really lucky that way, I can't even imagine how it must feel to live in fear of another land and it's people. It's just something we've never really had to worry about. We don't have a lot of hot button issues for the media to press either, we aren't a nation with many sociological scars brought on by tragedy or injustice. We aren't really an embattled people. I mean; we do face things like poverty and racism but even in our largest cities we're still so heavily integrated with people from all over the world that every work place, every apartment complex and every outing is like a 'Model United Nations' conference. Most of us have grown up like this, it's not the kind of environment that breeds that level of ethnic prejudice but it IS the kind of environment that breeds a lifelong craving for good ethnic food. Even the issues of overcrowding and pollution aren't anything for us to worry about since the large majority of our enormous country is uninhabited natural land.

 Most of Canada actually looks like this

Yes, we took a hit in the recession but we made out better than a lot of other countries and if you get into a fight with someone out here; there's a pretty slim change that dude's packing a gun. I hear all the time that Canadians as a people are really chill, well it makes sense when you think of how relaxed our ride has been so far. That stigma of being a bland country because we don't make headlines is something we should wear with pride considering that most headlines report bad news.

  "Toronto: Come Eat REALLY Good Ethnic Food and Just Chill"

Finally, no I haven't forgot about our beloved Toronto Mayor Rob Ford. He certainly does makes headlines but not for his politics, more-so for his binge drinking, ass grabbing and crack smoking. He also has a compilation of pratfalls that would make Chris Farley jealous. Seriously the man can't stay on his feet. One more reason Toronto is awesome.

-APE-

* Nov 25/2013 - I wrote the above article before the whole Rob Ford crack scandal broke. This whole scandal has become the biggest most conversation worthy news we've ever had. Everyone's talking about it, Rob Ford is becoming the most entertaining person on television.