Ricky Camilleri

HuffPost Live Host, Filmmaker, CamLin Co-Founder, Movie Lover, Music Liker,
Tweet @RickyCam

entertainmentweekly:

In which the cast of SNL breaks character, and we all giggle along with them.

(via brooklynmutt)

DEADBEAT DADS

This is the kickstarter for my short film I’m shooting with Linas Phillps in August. Looking to get some funds to pay actors and crew for the short shoot. If you can donate that’s great! Please pass along. 

http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/326739705/deadbeat-dads

Thanks,

Ricky

In honor of the porn on Tumblr conversations, here is a clip of myself and porn star Stoya discussing how she ruined porn for her father. 

bestrooftalkever:

tucci mane

bestrooftalkever:

tucci mane

(via laughterkey)

christinefriar:

I had a super difficult time sitting through Fances Ha, which blew, because I’d felt so excited going in. A movie! For me to like! We’re all going to like it! And celebrate it together! Being young! Black and white! Good fonts! Feeling directionless! Let’s roll!
And yet fifteen minutes in, and then thirty minutes in, and then forty five minutes in, I found myself wanting to stand up or read something on my phone or take a lap around the theater. Anything. Not even, “Ugh, this character!” or, “Ugh, this script!” just like, actively not wanting to participate in the cycle of portraying people in their 20s as these flailing, autistic creatures anymore.
Have I or my friends experienced the sensation of having an uncomfortable conversation that, in retrospect, we probably could have handled better? Of course. We’re alive. Have I spent too much money on a thing that turned out to be frivolous and not worth it? Almost always. But I also manage to buy toothpaste and pay my bills and be kind to people without leeching their life force out of them and I’m just tired. I’m tired of art hitting this same note that’s “It’s so hard! To have air-dried hair and clothes that aren’t from the mall and a friend with a boyfriend!” when the reality of it is that that’s like, the baseline. There are icky, wormy, beautiful things that happen when you’re not explaining the surface-level, breathing-in-and-out-status stuff to your audience, and I wish anyone anywhere would take up that work.
And maybe it’s just not for me. Maybe everything geared toward and written by people in their twenties isn’t sent down from some heaven cloud for Christine specifically, and that’s something I still haven’t wrapped my head around in a meaningful way, but I wish someone would write a single character that wasn’t all elbows. Someone capable of making a mistake, but maybe capable of being goddamn sympathetic and smart and great too.
This was like Garden State dressed up as Manhattan.

You’re growing up. 

christinefriar:

I had a super difficult time sitting through Fances Ha, which blew, because I’d felt so excited going in. A movie! For me to like! We’re all going to like it! And celebrate it together! Being young! Black and white! Good fonts! Feeling directionless! Let’s roll!

And yet fifteen minutes in, and then thirty minutes in, and then forty five minutes in, I found myself wanting to stand up or read something on my phone or take a lap around the theater. Anything. Not even, “Ugh, this character!” or, “Ugh, this script!” just like, actively not wanting to participate in the cycle of portraying people in their 20s as these flailing, autistic creatures anymore.

Have I or my friends experienced the sensation of having an uncomfortable conversation that, in retrospect, we probably could have handled better? Of course. We’re alive. Have I spent too much money on a thing that turned out to be frivolous and not worth it? Almost always. But I also manage to buy toothpaste and pay my bills and be kind to people without leeching their life force out of them and I’m just tired. I’m tired of art hitting this same note that’s “It’s so hard! To have air-dried hair and clothes that aren’t from the mall and a friend with a boyfriend!” when the reality of it is that that’s like, the baseline. There are icky, wormy, beautiful things that happen when you’re not explaining the surface-level, breathing-in-and-out-status stuff to your audience, and I wish anyone anywhere would take up that work.

And maybe it’s just not for me. Maybe everything geared toward and written by people in their twenties isn’t sent down from some heaven cloud for Christine specifically, and that’s something I still haven’t wrapped my head around in a meaningful way, but I wish someone would write a single character that wasn’t all elbows. Someone capable of making a mistake, but maybe capable of being goddamn sympathetic and smart and great too.

This was like Garden State dressed up as Manhattan.

You’re growing up. 

Seems to be a pretty comprehensive list. 35 people!
summeromegadeth:

“C’mon, bro. Askin’ who on the mild side.”

summeromegadeth:

“C’mon, bro. Askin’ who on the mild side.”

(Source: tiredtangerine)

Jesus Christ, Nicolas Winding-Refn. 
suicidewatch:

Daniel Johnston

suicidewatch:

Daniel Johnston

"World Coolest" White Power Dad.

justcraig:

Scott Stapp - Marlins Will Soar


At the start of every baseball season everyone in the world should be forced to listen to Creed’s lead singer singing a song about the Marlins.

Note: This song sounds like Scott Stapp looked up baseball in wikipedia then transcribed it into lyrics.

2nd Note: I have listened to this over 30 times in my life.

(via maxsilvestri)