Brad Barrish

1) Where were you born? Kansas City, MO. I only lived in Kansas City for a year before we moved to the quiet suburbs of Overland Park, KS. Overland Park provided my childhood friends and I with many sprawling backyards and trees to hide behind.

2) If you still live there, where would you rather move to? If you don’t live there, do you want to move back? Why or why not? I don’t live there anymore. I’ve been out of the confines of Overland Park since I left to go to college in Lawrence, KS. I don’t picture myself ever living in Kansas again, though it might be fun to have a house in Lawrence, which is a small college town with more charm and character per square mile than Los Angeles has in fifty square miles (or more). Don’t get me wrong, I love LA. Two words pretty much sum up why I wouldn’t move back: weather and ocean. While I miss the severe weather of Kansas, like thunderstorms and tornados, that’s just one of the reasons for visits.

3) Where in the world do you feel the safest? I feel safest in Lawrence, KS. The locals are some of the most neighborly and kind people you will ever meet. There are active neighborhood associations, people watch out for one another and you can feel safe leaving your door unlocked. A close second would be in a tent in the mountains.

4) Do you feel you are well-traveled? I feel fairly well-travelled. I’ve been to probably seventy percent of the U.S.,including spending time in the mountains of Alaska. It always strikes me a little odd that people don’t get more excited about some of the beautiful places that exist in the U.S. I’ve also travelled to England, France, Poland, Israel and Egypt.

5) Where is the most interesting place you’ve been? I can take this one literally or figuratively, but either way I don’t have a definite answer, so I’m just going to choose one of the many interesting places I’ve been, Alaska. I spent four weeks backpacking 150 miles through the southern Talkeetna mountain range. The range begins near Denali (Mount McKinley - tallest mountain in North America). I was with 20 other people, including a medic and two highly-trained mountaineers. The trip was through an organization called National Outdoor Leadership School (NOLS). I am one of the few people that will ever get to see the parts of Alaska I saw, simply because no one goes into the remote areas that we passed through. There was no sign of human existence. It was probably the most physically and psychologically challenging time of my life. In addition to getting a crash course in outdoor education and survival, I received quite an education about myself as well.

The Cunts live just above me. At first there was only one Cunt, and that wasn’t her name to begin with. When she had a problem with her stereo, I fixed it for her. She flirted with me and made a fuss over my dog. Apparently it was all just a front to her psychopathic ways.

One evening, a couple of years ago, my former girlfriend and I were at my apartment planning for some quiet time alone. All of the sudden the ceiling starts thumping with bass, vibrating everything in my apartment. I might not have questioned it if I had ever heard such racket coming from upstairs, but I hadn’t. I directed a puzzled look at my girlfriend, squinting an eye and turning up the left side of my lip in disgust. I’m immediately annoyed.

“What the fuck is that?”

“It sounds like your neighbor is playing loud techno music or something.”

“She never listens to techno music, and if she does, I’ve never heard it. She forty-something years old!”

I climbed up on my sofa and pounded on the ceiling. She pounded her heal into the floor.

“She’s mocking me! What the fuck?!”

“Brad, just calm down. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Oh, but it is! I hooked those speakers up and not only is she playing music at a totally inconsiderate volume, but she just pounded her foot back at me and the music is still thumping. If you were playing music really loud and your neighbor pounded on your floor from below, what would you do?”

“Well, I would probably turn my music down.”

“Exactly.”

I head for the door.

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to ask her to turn her music down.”

“Be nice.”

I march out of the front door, down the steps, across the lawn, up the driveway, up the stairs and knock on her door. She comes to the door as if there is absolutely nothing wrong.

“Hi.”

“Do you think you could turn your music down? My girlfriend and I are trying to enjoy a quiet evening at home tonight.”

“No,” she says with ‘fuck you’ subliminally inserted for maximum effectiveness.

I roll my eyes. “Why not?”

“Your dog was barking at 2 o’clock in the morning and it woke me up.”

“I’m sorry. She’s usually only does that when she’s being protective. Now, can you please just turn your music down?”

“No. I have people over, it’s Friday night and we’re hangin’ out.”

I look inside for company, but she seems to be the only one. Besides, there’s no way that they could possibly be conversing, even if she did have people in her apartment.

I pause and look her square in the eyes. “You’re a fucking cunt.”

I immediately turn around and walk back down the stairs. I step off the last stair and she yells down. “Well…you’re a bastard,” to which I let out a hearty laugh as she slams the door.

I walk back in to my apartment with a grin on my face.

“What happened?”

“I called her a fucking cunt to her face.”

“Brad!!”

“Well, she wouldn’t turn her music down and was being a bitch about the whole thing. I started off playing nice, but she wouldn’t play along.”

About ten minutes pass and the music gets turned off. I hear a bunch of footsteps in her apartment and a few minutes later she is walking with a few people to a car parked in front of the building.

The evening marked the beginning of a war.

I arrived on the set around 11:30am, which was again, at ACCD. Smoke was billowing out of the doors to the set. This could only mean one thing…ROCK BOX SHOTS! In an attempt to ham things up to a proper UFB level, a fog machine, concert lighting and a raised platform (the rock box) were all used for the first sequence.

First up was Nick, who admittedly was a much better morning person than the rest. Bill was yelling for Nick to move more on the platform, but he would soon find out for himself that jumping up and down and doing rock kicks were dangerous manuevers. After a few practices, Bill was ready to go. Cue smoke…cue sound…and…ACTION! Indeed, action ensued. Despite all dangers, Bill made sweet love to the camera like only Kip Winger could possibly do. If it sounds funny, it was. Rock faces, rock poses and rock kicks galore. Eric’s performance was a bit more tame. The sequence was shot from above his drum kit and there’s only so many things a drummer can do with a big camera hovering over him. The camera rotated around Eric and it turned out looking fantastic.

After taking a break for a while, extras were once again employed for a shot of them sitting with inflatable instruments staring at a white light projection on the wall. In editing, propaganda style footage will be dropped in. The rock soldiers have nearly completed their training. There was just one last thing, but not before one of the greatest sequences of the entire shoot (next to the rock box shots, of course). Eric entertained while the crew set up the next shot.

A wine glass was set up on a stool while the band stood behind it with safety goggles around their eyes. Off to the side was one of the extras with an air rifle. Bill sang, or rather lip synced, to the song with amazing comic intensity. After a failed attempt to shatter the glass with his voice, he made another attempt, this time even more expression and might. The air rifle fires off a few shots, shatters the glass and the scene is a success.

The camera did some shots of the broken glass with the extras staring at it in complete disbelief just before it was time to film the final sequence. In the scene, which was filmed in a hallway of ACCD, the UFB guys lead the rock soldiers on a sabotage mission at a record company. Armed with speakers and cables and dressed like burglars, they scurry down the hallway. It didn’t go very smoothly, at first.

It was decided that the fog machine was needed for the shot and within a few seconds of the hall filling up with fog, the fire alarms were tripped and we had to evacuate. It was pretty funny, actually. The portly security guard came over, sweat beads dripping down his forehead. This was his big chance to prove himself, but there was nothing to prove and the crew cleared out the fog before he arrived. The excuse was that one of the gels melted and ended up smoking. Everyone went back in to finish the scene, I got a few last shots, said good-bye to Liz and the UFB guys and was on my way.

I gotta say that the experience was awesome. I had such a great time shooting photos on the set. I got about 400 shots over the course of the filming. Liz was an amazingly professional director. I wasn’t expecting the large production, but she pulled it off looking like a seasoned veteran. The UFB guys were equally impressed with everything and seemed to have a great time throughout the process. Thanks again to Liz for asking me to shoot.

The second day was shot on location at a house in North Hollywood, CA and at The Art Center College of Design in Pasadena, CA. The first part of the day, for which I was not present, was also shot at ACCD. I joined up with the crew at the house, where they shot a parody of a couple of scenes from “Fight Club.” In one scene Nick is pulling all of the wanna-be “rock soldiers” in through a window of the house. In another scene, Eric turns the lawn sprinkler on some of the wanna-be soldiers as they stand, chests out, taking all the abuse he’s dishing out. In the final scene, Bill comes out of the house to find one of the wanna-be soldiers standing in his front yard as he gets the morning paper. Bill throws the paper at him and then tosses his morning coffee in his face. Yes, the coffee was real, though not hot.

A lot of the extras from Wednesday’s shoot were back for more. The band was in good spirits, though a bit tired from playing shows the last two nights. According to Eric, Friday’s show ended with him hanging out at The Rainbow Room, next to The Roxy Theater, where they had played. A little liquid courage aided him in sharing a blunt with B-Real (Cypress Hill) and hanging with Judd Nelson. Eric further explained that he was hoping to run into members of White Snake, but he was more than satisfied with his Hollywood experience.

We left the house and drove to ACCD to film a scene in one of the bathrooms. In it, a confused and frustrated guy is shown questioning his rockdom in front of the mirror. It sounds dirtier than it was. He’s was wearing an Creed t-shirt, which was altered to say Freed, so as not to offend (of course). In a fit of disgust with himself, the guy removes his shirt only to have Bill kick open the stall door behind him and hand him an Ultimate Fakebook rock soldier shirt. Thank the good lord that he didn’t have to walk around with the Freed tee. Once again, this just helped to establish that Ultimate Fakebook are out to not only rock you, but give you a hearty laugh as well.

The evening ended after this scene was shot and we met back the next morning at ACCD for the final day of shooting. Even though the filming has not been sequential, the plot of the video is developing nicely, and best of all it’s a fucking riot.

I’m usually the one behind the camera, but during the Ultimate Fakebook video shoot I was goofing around on Eric’s drums. Someone snapped a photo of me. I thought it was so funny that I sent it to my friend Shayna, who I knew would also find it amusing. She had to go and make it even more amusing. And no, I cannot play drums.

Since the real Friday Five is not being published this week, I figured I would make one up. Feel free to leave you own answers.

1) What is the latest and greatest album you have been listening to? That’s a touch one. I would have to say it’s a tie between My Vitriol - Finelines and Queens Of The Stone Age - Songs For The Deaf. Both of these albums provide the essential rock that my mind and body require at this time.

2) What’s the last CD you downloaded in its entirety? Oasis - Heathen Chemistry. Come and get me Liam.

3) What’s in your wallet? I don’t really carry a wallet. I keep my PDA (a Sony Clie NR70) in a case that barely holds my ID, a couple of credit cards and my KCRW Fringe Benefits card. I’m notorious for not carrying cash, but when I do, it’s in my front pocket.

4) If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be? I would most definitely change my current state of employment, which is lack thereof. It’s great that I can go to bed at 3 or 4am and wake up whenever my internal alarm goes off, but I’m not making any money doing that.

5) When was the last time you had a good cry? Kind of personal, but the last time was when I watched the John Lennon documentary, “Imagine.” I cried at the end when they were showing all of the footage of people gathered in New York after John was murdered. I have a vague memory of seeing the news about it and I think my parents were sad about it as well. Things like that inevitably get you thinking about what the person would be doing if they had not died.

1) Where are you right now? Sitting on my red velvet chaise. I’m pooped. I had every intention of running errands and getting food, but after riding my skateboard a little too far (and back), I’m not feeling so motivated to do much more that write. It requires very little movement.

2) What have you lost recently? Here was my original answer to this question: I recently lost my virginity. It was disastrous and I cannot explain the utter embarrassment of the whole situation. I’m terribly uncomfortable with my body, so you can imagine how I must have felt. It felt good, but didn’t last very long. The girl was very nice about everything, but she put her clothes on and left within minutes. So I’m a late bloomer.

I decided that people might take it seriously, so here’s my backup answer:

I’ve recently lost interest in trying to see every concert I can possibly see. I suppose the fact that I’m poor has something to do with it, but I also think it’s a matter of shunning the idea that I have some sort of obligation to go see live music so I have writing material for jeansandatshirt.com. Obligation sucks, and while my intentions for the site were pure, I just am not enjoying it much. It could be a passing phase. Who knows. I like this kind of writing better.

3) What was the first CD you ever purchased? My first CD purchase was actually two CDs. One was Prince 1999. I don’t know what happened to the CD, but I recently re-purchased it and it still sounds just as good as it did when I bought it the first time. That album is one of the best albums of all time. Everyone should own it. The other was U2 Rattle And Hum. While not their best album, by a long shot, it has some great songs on it. I was already familiar with their earlier music and filled in the blanks at a later date.

4) What is your favorite kind of writing pen? There are only two pens that I write with, for the most part. A Uni-Ball Vision (micro) in blue or black ink and an Ultra Fine Point Sharpie in black, though I have all of the colors they come in. I don’t like pencil because it fades, though I use a A.G. Spalding & Bros. when I write in some journals because I don’t like the ink to bleed through to the other side. They also make some damn fine pens as well. Do I sound anal about my writing utensils? I am.

5) What is your favorite ice cream flavor? Ben & Jerry’s Cherry Garcia comes to mind, though I also enjoy many of the other fine flavor they have to offer.

“Hi Mr. Barrish. We have had your clothes since April. If you could please come and get them as soon as possible, we would appreciate it.”

Look, I know you’ve had my clothes since April, and frankly I’m a little disappointed you didn’t call sooner. And just for the record, there’s a comforter cover there as well. I apologize for it taking up so much precious space and all, but I have better things to do with what little money I have these days. As much as I would like to pick up clothes that I never wear and a comforter cover that my dog has stained, which most likely looks exactly the same as when I brought it to you, it’s just not going to happen right now.

You’re just going to have to hang on to my clean clothes and comforter cover a little while longer. At least they’re clean, right? I’m sorry for the inconvenience, but I just can’t bring myself to pick everything up. At this point I’m a little too embarrassed. While the tone of your voicemail was calm, I feel that at the very least I would be charged interest and possibly lynched for using your dry cleaning facility as my closet. I’m just a little afraid to show my face there, okay? I’m sure you understand. Thanks for sewing the button back on the shirt I never wear.

I’m not talking out-of-the-pot-or-oven dead rabbit. No sir. I’m talking been-dead-for-a-couple-of-weeks-under-a-tree dead rabbit. It’s among the most vile smells, to be sure. What made matters worse was the fact that the smell had legs (and wings). My dog didn’t seem to mind it much. Matter of fact, she thought it was so nice that she rolled around on the rotting carcus. Now, she knows better than that. Sure, she rolls in the cool grass on a hot day, but it wasn’t really hot and she had just been in the swimming pool (against her will). Couldn’t she have urinated on the thing instead of marking it with her entire body?

To make matters worse, I was at a friend’s parents’ house. I was helpless without knowledge of where to find the tools to battle such a malodorous emanation. I would need to borrow rubber gloves and shampoo immediately. They couldn’t argue once the stench had invaded the entire backyard and was making it’s way into the house. All entrances to the house in the immediate vicinity were shut, rubber gloves were produced and the Costco bottle of Finesse for dry skin was brought out. Everyone was on the verge of vomiting and Holly just didn’t understand any of it. I was panicking that she was going to be stuck with the odor while all the flies in the neighborhood were enjoying the moment and Holly was terrified by the site of the hose. She knew what was coming.

After a couple of washes and deciding that she was back to smelling like a wet dog that just shampooed with Finesse, the panic slowly subsided. The collar and gloves were promptly disposed of, so as not to attract vultures. Though slightly traumatized, Holly ate her dinner and crashed in front of the TV with the rest of us. I may have to do a line or two of vinegar to get the smell out of my nose.

I don’t know what to say, but fuck if I didn’t laugh real hard. Quite possibly some of the most disturbingly funny short films I have seen. Thank you, Zefrank.

[Note: These are the things that people find when they are unemployed.]