Subscribe via e-mail



Why do I need an idea blog?


Lots and Lots O' Pictures

This stop-motion video I made contains over 600 pictures. Enjoy!


Half-Assed Creative App, Sure Why Not?

Every semester students at SMU apply to the creative program within the Advertising major. The application consists of a single question like, "Where do you draw the line?" or "What is good?" and you must respond on a single sheet of legal paper. This years question was, "Which way?." I don't need to turn one in, but as the jealous friend of a few folks applying, I've thought about it a little. So, here is one of my early ideas that is probably way to cynical, but fun!




I've realized that an embarrassing amount of my life's energy is spent worrying about my favorite sports teams. What if I were smart enough to divert this energy into something productive? If I converted this passion into something more meaningful, I could probably cure cancer, solve world hunger, and find out why people think Tina Fey is funny...because seriously, who could think she's funny...and WHY??


You'd Tell Me, Right?

Finding life long friends is not an easy task. These true friends are the ones that you can share anything with, whether it be a tiny secret or a failed attempt to shave your loved ones initials into your naughty hair. Personally, I have been blessed with a few of these true friends and it just occurred to me that there is a common thread with all of my individual relationships.

Surely, you have had a similar experience where you are out having a good time with one of these friends when they suddenly say something like, “If I were dating someone you didn’t like, you would tell me, right? I mean, I would want you to tell me.” I have had the same conversation with three different friends and they have all been totally different experiences. The tricky part is finding a way to bring up the deal we made to be truthful without overstepping any boundaries.

The first guy I had this trouble with is a gregarious chap I’ve known since my sophomore year of high school and who loves nothing more than to show off his poor basketball skills in knee high socks and skintight shorts. Never the less, he fell head-over-socks for a cancer of a woman. At first, she seemed awesome. She joined us on several occasions and I noticed that she possessed a level of wit and sarcasm above and beyond that which is found in most everyone in our generation and she seemed like a good match for my friend. I quickly realized that this humor wasn’t actually wit or sarcasm, but that she was just mean and cruel. In fact, I heard she once punched a mall Santa because he asked her to sit on his lap. But how do you tell your friend, a guy you would slap a nun for, that she is evil? In this case I exercised the Fifth Amendment and kept quiet when I should have tried the Second Amendment.

I had the same heart to heart with another one of my close friends that I’ve known since we were in little league together. After our talk, he proceeded to find the perfect woman. Really…she is awesome. Smart, pretty, and rich parents to boot - who needs more? The only problem is: I think my friend is gay. (Unbeknownst to him, of course.) How do you bring something like that up? Either way, I love this guy and just want him to be happy. So, if that means giving me his wife for a while, I will take one for the team.

The last guy has always been the toughest. We are the closest in the group and the most brutally honest with each other. We also had the famous, “Please tell me if you don’t like who I am dating…” conversation, but he still regularly goes against my recommendations. His love life is so eventful that he blogs about it everyday. Here is an excerpt:

“My date with the homeless girl went well, except for the fact she was so needy! Anyway, after letting her super size her happy meal, we took a romantic stroll down the river to her box. She wanted me to come in for a cup of tepid rain water, but I politely declined…honestly, I was just afraid to drink out of the rusted green beans can.”

I told him the only upside to dating a homeless girl would be the fact he could drop her off anywhere, but he should not date this woman. One of our biggest fights circled around a girl he dated who had a lazy eye because I knew she was seeing somebody on the side.
I also know from personal experience that women have the same pact. When I was dating my wife, her friends were always trying to “protect her” from me. I never understood them though because they always sent mixed signals. One day I would wake up with my house on fire and the words, “Leave her alone!” etched into the sidewalk, but the next day they would bring me tart yellow snow-cones and I figured they were starting to like me. Fortunately for me, my wife ignored their warnings that I was chauvinistic and over-bearing. She realized it was all untrue, I got the girl, and we have been very happy for almost eight years.

I guess in the end, it’s really not my job to judge. Like all true friends, I ultimately just want them to be happy and for them to want the same for me. It doesn’t matter if their relationships are successful or if they are happy with their choices, because no matter what the outcome, we will always be friends and I’ll be there to support them just like they support me.

Tomorrow’s Blog: “Women: Cheap Labor or Cheap to Replace”


Hear ye, Hear ye!

Alright, I’ve been thinking a lot about my future lately. Specifically, how I can possibly get a job in this economic climate. Especially since it is so difficult to get noticed in the over-flowing sea of applicants. So I came up with a brilliant plan to get some attention. What if I made my book stink? I mean SERIOUSLY stink, so that when the book is sitting in the interviewer's office, it will demand attention. I realize this isn’t the best association and it leads to obvious puns, not to mention the fact that it would probably really piss someone off, but they’d have to seek it out eventually...right?


Big decisions.

So, I bought 'Hidden Valley Ranch Dressing' for the first time ever instead of my normal money-saving store brand. When I brought it home, my wife and I almost threw a party because we bought the 'real' ranch. It was depressing how excited we actually were. I'm ready for a time where I don't have to worry about buying the off-brand. Not rich, but not EXTREMELY poor. You know what... let's adopt communism.



Don't Wait to Read this Post!

It is that time of the year where students all around the world are slacking off, a tiny bit. I am unsure why we put things off to the last second anyway because it just makes life harder. So this got me thinking about procrastination. Is our proclivity to procrastinate something that is generational or did our fore fathers decide that the other half of that declaration thingy could be written later? I know people always say that older men should have their procrastinate checked regularly, but what about us college students?

I have a new theory. Anytime I do or say something that could be harmful or set me up for failure in the future, I just say, “Sounds like future Matt’s problem.” That way I don’t have to feel guilt for any situation, but I will also, more than likely, hate myself later.

This has happened a couple of times this semester already, like when I had a ten page research paper due, but of course, tried to cram the whole process into the final two days. I ignored the paper for the six or so weeks before the due date, because that was clearly “future Matt’s problem.”

What if my procrastination problem gets worse and I am procrastinating on bigger things, like fighting crime or solving world hunger or worse… watching The Office? Seriously, that is crossing the line.

I realize the only thing that can snap me out of this postponement predicament is already here. The only monstrosity that will make me realize that most simple tasks can not be put off another second: my son.

I am just scared to hand down my same bad habits to my kiddo. The only way to make sure that he doesn’t pick up my bad procrastination habit is to stop altogether. From here on out I WILL NOT drag my feet on any project or homework that needs to be done. Ultimately, I don’t want “future Matt’s problems” to be “future little-Matt’s problems.” So from here on out, I quit the procrastinating… well, maybe I will start tomorrow.


I'm gonna learn you sumpthin'

Here is the video we made for our Intro to Creativity class. We're teaching the difference between intrinsic and extrinsic motivation. Enjoy!



Presents or Presence?


Theory of the Day!



Nuthin' Like a Good Pair of Double D's

Wouldn't it be awesome to set a world a city? I had an idea for a festival that would be called "Dance Dallas" that would have the goal of setting a world record. We'd try to get as many folks together as possible to dance to the same song at the same time. Of course, this would have to be a VERY large group. Here's one draft of my logo: (sketched when I should have been paying more attention)

Get it?! The cheesy shoes as D's effect? Anyway, this is crazy thought, but it might be fun. You in?



I'm on the Crazy Train

The following are some thoughts I scribbled while riding the train home from school and turned into a stream-of-consciousness writing exercise:

I am fake writing to avoid talking to a crazy train-person. Now she's talking about being 40 and not understanding how people my age don't choke everyone around them. It's odd the lengths we will go to just to avoid other humans. My generation is not only the most cynical consumer ever, and even though we are constantly told how we live in a shrinking global society, we still can't handle anything outside our 3ft radius of comfort zone. Look at me: outgoing, clever, sexy, self-centered and AFRAID to talk to another human being. Since I've been furiously scribbling, she's fallen silent.

So now that you have all of the evidence, you tell me...who is the real crazy train-person?



Here are a few of the ads I wrote, directed, acted in, and edited, for an Advertising Literacy project. We were teaching the class about our assigned agency: TBWA.


Let's keep the baby trend going.

Okay...this is my last baby post. (Even though I really can't promise that.)

Here is a video I made for no reason. It is hard to watch this video now that I realize that he will never know how much I love him. Does my Dad love ME that much? Hmm...


Pre-baby Writings!

This is a writing from a month before the wife became pregnant..irony....

No Thanks, Babe

There is a clock in this universe that ticks louder than an old man with Parkinson’s playing the drums. It’s my wife’s uterus and it is virtually a ticking time bomb. After deflecting the standard baby debate that every newly married couple goes through, I started thinking about how babies and I don’t mix. Every single step of the process has inherent problems.

Step one: Delivering under pressure.

Frankly, I am not that great to start with, so the added pressure of delivering the swimmers…well it’s a gamble. On the other hand, practice does make perfect.

Step two: Hormone-crazed wife.

Like most of the men in this world, I have come to the conclusion that 97.8% of women are clinically insane. I don’t know if it is a holy punishment or some sort of secret pact that women have, but I have the queen of the crazies. The idea of my wife having heightened emotions because of a chemical imbalance makes me want to hire a 24-hour body guard.

Step two and a half: I have to live with her.

I can see it now. Walking in the front door, tired from a full day of work and school only to find my wife lying on the couch wearing a “Baby On Board” t-shirt commenting on the finer points of “The Young and the Restless”. And when I dare ask what she did all day she will retort with “I grew a lung for YOUR child today. What did you do?” This will ultimately be her default answer for everything; so how do you combat growing major organs?

Step three: Raising the little monster.

Everyone has the fear of being a bad parent - it is a feeling no one can escape. Personally, I have grown up around very few small children. Now that my friends are having children, I have the opportunity to have more interaction with babies. The problem is I have no baby experience and plenty of dog experience, so the only experience I have to draw from is that of raising dogs. Even the simplest task of getting the child’s attention gets skewed into a stereotypical “come here” style dog whistle. This thought scares me. I can’t even communicate with babies without using the subtle grunts that I have used to talk to my furry children. But above all of these things is the scariest thought…I would be responsible for another human life. I don’t even like me. Then comes school, driving, a wife or husband, prison time, and eventually the grandchildren cometh. Just thinking about my child’s life and happiness is stressful, not to mention that I would have to learn to be a friend, parent, and bank.

So, I just can’t do it. No children for me. I don’t care what that wretched wife wants. A wise man once told me, “Do not have kids!” That and, “You always look very sexy.” Even though that wise man was me, I plan to live by his advice. Just these three steps alone are enough to scare me off…I think.

I also realize that maybe you have to take these baby steps before you can learn to walk the road of true happiness. Nah…


What would you do if you found out?

I found this in my archive of writings. It is from...well, you can read.

It’s Hard to Be a MacDaddy
By: Matt Villanueva

As I sit here in my Thundercat underwear, watching MacGyver on my big screen with a cigar in one hand and a half-full bottle of Jager in the other, I realize something…life can not get any better than this. Suddenly, my sobbing wife pops out of nowhere and I react quicker than lightning as I hop up, toss my cigar and Jager to the floor, and offer up a tissue once used to stuff the front of my undies. After my MacGyver-inspired reaction and a quick trip to the fire extinguisher, (Note: Jager and cigar create fire.) I ask my wife what could have possibly upset her so much. She then proceeds to tell me the two words that will change my life forever, “I’m pregnant”.

Dumbfounded, I freeze and ask myself, what would my hero MacGyver do? Would he create some sort of time machine out of two ginger ales and a dredle to stop me from being so amorous on the night of conception? Or maybe he would simultaneously fix our healthcare system and win the lottery with a single turn of a screwdriver? Probably not, but I did see him use a piece of chocolate to…never mind, back to the story.

As I go back to my hysterically crying wife and reassure her that all is well, she starts to throw out all of the normal worries associated with having a baby. In the midst of her rant, I have the terrifying epiphany of a lifetime. There is going to be a person that thinks and acts EXACTLY LIKE ME…the Armageddon cometh.

And all at once I realize that a baby will be the greatest challenge to our ever changing early 20’s life. Once I’ve had some time to think about it, I realize that we are the perfect candidates for a baby. Check out these stats:
• Married over 2 years
• Ample friend and family support
• I think pregnant chicks are hot
• College educated parents
• A good MacGyver loving household

With these new realizations, I grab my wife and squeeze her as I whisper in her ear how excited I truly am. Always the optimist, I start to see how wonderful this new journey will be. I am going to be a dad…whew, that sounds weird.

But still in the back of my mind I worry, thinking that this isn’t the perfect time for us to have a baby. And maybe we’re just not ready!? But, then I calm myself and remember all of the times my friend Mac was caught in stickier situations and how he always comes out unscathed.

So, you know what? I can do this and I am unafraid. (Babies smell fear)

After a little more crying and worrying, my wife calms down enough to call her mother and share the big news. Meanwhile, I flip the TV back on and sit as I stare blankly at the screen thinking only of a new life to come. Deep in thought, my mind abruptly stops on a new fact: I am even better than the great MacGyver. Mostly due to the fact that I made a baby…I mean think about it, I made a person!

Luckily, I’ve already got the perfect name in mind, and let me tell you baby MacGyver will be the greatest kid ever.


TBWA Montage

In my advertising literacy class, I had to make a presentation to the class that conveyed the personality of our assigned agency. One facet of the project required us to share some of the agency's work, so I made this video. It took some time, but I ended up satisfied with the final product and I thought I'd share.

This is another montage I put together for the same project. We took the idea from an Absolut spot and after lots and lots of editing, this is what I ended up with!


Hello Foot - My name's Bullet.

Alright, I’ve been thinking a lot about my future lately and how I could possibly get a job in this economic climate. Especially since it is so difficult to get noticed in the sea of applicants. So, I came up with a brilliant plan to get some attention. What if I made my book stink? I mean SERIOUSLY stink, so that when the book is sitting in the interviewer's office, it will demand attention. I realize this isn’t the best association, and it leads to obvious puns, plus it’d really piss someone off - but they’d have to seek it out eventually, right?


Creative Process

I took a stab at making a visual representation of my creative process. I guess one incarnation would look something like this: