Blow (film) Puns

A director and a costume designer had a disagreement over a critical shot in the horror movie they were filming in their studio.

The director planned to use CGl for a brief but critical reveal-shot of the movie's monster. But the costume designer insisted they use an actual costume instead of CGl.

"CGl makes a movie look cheap these days," she proclaimed.

The two of them continued debating until they began arguing. The stage crew, actors on break, and other people around them began watching until both the costume designer and director were shouting over each other at the top of their lungs. Despite their efforts, nobody could calm them down.

Fearing the incident may lead to blows, one of cameramen called a studio security guard in urgent request. The guard arrived a minute later and made a beeline for the director and costume designer, who were being held back by multiple people on set.

"lt's my movie. l make the decisions!" the director hollered, hoarse and red in the eyes.

"The movie quality will suffer!" the costume designer screamed, hair plastered across her sweaty face.

The security guard stepped in-between them and raised his pistol at the ceiling without a word. They continued to argue around him. There was a bark of gunshot, then nothing but silence and some falling plaster.

"Now see here," the guard said loudly, stepping back to look at the two of them. "Either you two quit your bickering or l'll have to escort you off the premises. You're making a scene."

So my dad sent this to everyone in his office. I groaned a couple of times and thought it'd fit in well here.

Oh, the weather outside is crazy
Like a film from Martin Scorsese
The rain will fall and the wind will blow
El niño, el niño, el niño

It doesn’t show signs of stopping
My shirt and pants are sopping
Oh, where did that umbrella go
El niño, el niño, el niño

Weather patterns don’t seem right
Southern Cal is all a storm
The marine layer and all of its might
All because the Pacific is warm

The fear of fire is now subsiding
our thoughts turn to mudsliding
Down the hillside our houses flow
El niño, el niño, el niño