August 30, 2010 by markstani
(from The Guardian)
The film-maker, 37, on humour, living homeless for his current film and watching ice cubes when he can’t sleep
If I could give some advice to my teenage self, I’d just say stop trying to run after skinny girls. The girls with big booties are way more exciting.
When I was five I wanted to be the guy next door. He was an arsonist and threw Molotov cocktails at abandoned buildings – you’d wake up in the morning for school and see scorched earth.
When I hear the song “Sippin’ on Some Syrup” by Three 6 Mafia, it’s like listening to the gospels. It’s an ode to drinking cough syrup and reminds me of when I was young and we’d freeze cough syrup and snort it.
At some point everything got too muddled for me to work: now that I have a wife and a kid I can’t really be drinking glue.
I used to work in Häagen-Dazs with a guy who jerked off in the cappuccino ice cream. Whenever I had to do a shift with him, he had this sly, relaxed grin on his face. It was very hard to get comfortable.
I always feel closer to God in strip clubs. I can only go for 20 minutes though, because after that they start to lose their sense of magic.
I just can’t get enough ice. Some people watch the television, but when I have trouble sleeping at night I mostly just look at ice cubes.
When I was a kid there was a librarian who used to berate me because I had long hair. I put a hex on her: drew powers into the atmosphere with some horrible thoughts, and then she died in a sky-diving accident.
The same things that made me laugh when I was 15 make me laugh now. I don’t think I’ve evolved much.
I wanted, for a long time, to be a tap dancer. My dad kept telling me tap dancers didn’t make money and the only other thing I liked beside that was movies.
I didn’t really research anything for my film Trash Humpers, I just did it – just lived like a homeless person and it was great.
Everything is perfect to me. Isolating specific moments, or favourite memories – I’ve never thought like that. Life’s one continuous thing. It’s like a swish of colours.