My children don't appreciate me...
My children don't appreciate me. This is the two of them (as shot by me) limping toward the restaurant we went to on the day after Christmas. Remain calm, I'm sure that by the time you see this, Meaghan will have doffed her crutches.
Nonetheless, the point of the story is that your children should try to support you; just as you try to support them. So when I mention my pending vampire movie, what do I get? At exactly the :40 mark, the scoffing response of Elizabeth is there for all to see.
I don't believe they fully appreciate me.
I mean, really. I think my logic (as roughly verbalized from :47-:59) holds fast ... is unassailable ... a Maginot Line of a sort. Simply put, here in print: Nobody thought I'd amount to much as a painter and, bang, there you are. Eat that, haters. So how hard, really, can it be to make a vampire movie with a Canon XL-1 (the camera that made pornography what it is today) and two or three Flip video cameras (on which this footage was shot)? I mean, how hard? Plus, it's not even a movie. It's a five-night-a-week television series. Between you and me, I've sized up the competition and I am not fazed.
The show, by the way, is called "The Horror/The Horror." It's like "Frost/Nixon" meets "The Blair Witch Project."