I just received and email informing me that Il Fungo Sirena, a movie I created the opening sequence/titles for, has won an award at The Granada Film Festival.

Now obviously, there were 60 or so people involved in the creation of the movie, so I can’t take *full* credit for the win. But on the other hand, I am entirely happy to accept 1.6% of the glory that the calculator declares is duly deserved by me.

Which leads to an interesting thoughtfart, in which it re-occurs to me that winning awards doesn’t count for shit.  When I first started stacking them up, way back at the dawn of the century, I was giddy as a motherfucker at a MILF convention.

I had it all worked out:
Awards = money+glory+fame = whores, coke & owning an island made of solid platinum vaginas.

Turns out that’s not how it works. Or at least not for a little English-ish man.

I mean, you’d think the Jews who own Hollywood would have my back. But they have forsaken me. Probably because I haven’t been to synagogue in almost a decade.

Unrelatedly, this just came in and kicked me in the balls with whathefuckness: