Garrett Himself

Hi. I'm Garrett Vander Leun, and you're not.

“If you start out depressed, everything is kind of a pleasant surprise.”
Agreed.
I’m a bit of an asshole. I’m grumpy because it’s easy. I compliment myself a lot because somebody has to. I still believe in chivalry and I think most guys are better off dead. Just because we both have wieners doesn’t mean we’re the same. I work out so I don’t have to deal with ’em, not because I want to be more like ‘em.
Don’t stop now! Go ahead, Spy away - that’s why you’re here, right? C’mon, it’s fun!
I like to draw and paint . I've watched a lot of Mark Kistler and punched a few walls to get where I'm at.
I have to have dessert every night. I'm borderline to full-blown OCD, weird stuff like setting the cook time on microwaves to odd numbers only. I only believe in handshakes. I find any sort of grip and rip maneuver to be insulting - I don't know how to do it and I refuse to learn.
In some way, shape or form, I truly idolize every man - and that single woman - in my “Heroes” list. I’m not trying to be cool - I actually know a thing or two about the people on there, Dummy. They’ve taught me what it is to endure. To rise above and against. To give everyone a fair chance and build a wall against those who misuse it. They’ve taught me what it is to be an older brother - to be grounded - to laugh, love, and hurt. To live in the moment and chase the dream. They’ve taught me to walk tall and be a man (NOTE: this couldn’t have less to do with how many girls you’ve done or how tough you are)(…you f’ing Meatball).
My family comes first. My closest friends are right behind ‘em. You know that part on “28 Days Later” when the main character goes berserk, like an animal? He turns into an invincible machine and just starts killing dudes and smooshing out eyeballs to protect the people he loves? I’d go there. I’d totally smoosh eyeballs for the right ones.
I like to write a lot. The first story I wrote was about a spaceship who went to outerspace and then pooped. The End. In first grade I wrote a story about a husband who murdered his wife. I’d like to think I’ve gotten better. I’ve written a few screenplays and I’m working on a semi-non-fictional novel because I want you to read it. And your children and theirs (I really want to leave a legacy).
I know I have big eyebrows. And a big ridge. I know these things - most days I feel like this:

There’s no scarier sound to me than the “Unsolved Mysteries” theme song. Unless I woke up in the middle of the night with a ghost whispering in my ear about how it was going to haunt me forever and I couldn’t do anything about it because it’s a ghost. That’d be really scary too. Or squirrels chirping at me in my face. I’m terrified of squirrels. I ‘tossed’ one a Nerf football when I was a little kid and he chased me across my parents deck and into the house and stared at me through the sliding glass door. They’ve passed the memo ever since and track my every movement (I kid you not).
I made a feature film with my best friends last summer called, " Snakeville ."

We played about six characters a piece and it’s nothing short of amazing. It’s funny and twisted and brilliant and it's three best friends having a blast together. Buy some cheap pants to S in, cause I know you‘ll poop ‘em. It‘ll be out later this year.
I just did a television pilot with my closest friends from Second City and a film director.

Even if it never sells, I MADE A TV SHOW. It's all about the legacies we leave behind, folks...