Mr. Charisma Goes To France

5.11.06
3:21 PM
I feel like a mountain top. Snow-covered and slightly sleepy. Tickled by the cold, thin air. Solipsistic yet all-encompassing. I am alone with millions.
I just found a way to make a silly noise with this keyboard here. Hee hee hee.
It stopped. Man, I never get to have any fun.
I have changed my diet recently. I also have upped the frequency of my swimming trips. See, I consciously made a mistake a few days ago that cost me a lot of money and a wonderful travel opportunity, but hopefully that won’t happen again as long as I keep up the good food and continuous exercise thing.
Action/reaction.
Action/reaction.
Buy the ticket/take the ride.
It was quite a harsh punishment that I received as a reaction, but it was alllll me and I take full responsibility. In fact, rather than just saying, yes, it’s true, this man has no dick, I am working to repair the damage. I think it’s going well.
Let’s all take a moment to consider the word “dick”. Since when does that word have ANYTHING to do with a penis? Was some King Richard an asshole nicknamed Dick after being a penis? I mean, exegesis please! He-lloooo!! Ahoy hoy!!! Cthulhu hoy hoy!! Shub niggurath hoy hoy!!!!! Azathoth Nyarlathotep hoy hoy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! R’yleh hoy hoy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Ygnaiih…ygnaiih…thflthkh’ngha hoy hoy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! H’ehye n’grkdl’lh, h’ehye in the name of Yog Sothoth hoy hoy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
And then we switch…

7:50 PM
Well, I guess I did something right.
Seconds after I walked into my apartment for my break, I found out that I booked the aforementioned money/travel thing.
From the 12th to the 19th I will be in Nice, France shooting a Bacardi commercial. We will be shooting in both Nice and Monaco.
Again: I am leaving the country. I am going to France. I will be paid to drink Bacardi and eat French food for a week. Holy goddamn Jesus Fucking Christ on un pogo stick in the water.
I AM GOING TO FRANCE.
PAUL MARK DAMIAN GUYET JR IS GOING TO FUCKING FRANCE.
I think I am on the Right Track.
Right after hearing it up to a few minutes ago, it hadn’t hit me yet. Part of it has and now I am vibrating with words, thoughts, feelings and emotions. My first thought was, “Am I going to get fired for this?” Once that was taken care of I had “I will be there without my friends”, and then I decided that I am going to buy a French Nine Inch Nails CD and everything became copasetic. Christina was on the phone with me and she said this place is basically paradise. I can do paradise. I plan to bring my video camera and my Polaroid in order to properly document this occasion. According to Christina, I will see mountains, castles, ruins (which I believe are very old castles) and cobblestones. Lots of cobblestones. I will be about a half hour from Italy, another country in Europe.
Holy fuck.
I am going to a place where there is a different currency, a different language, a different quality of food, life, air…
I can’t say I’m ready for this, but that doesn’t really matter because I’m being paid to do this. A lot. To eat French food and drink Bacardi.
In order to make new friends I plan to bring my DVD player and hook it up to the television in my room and play The Big Lebowski drinking game (with free Bacardi products), taking time out to consume crackers, analyze and reproduce the “Gutterballs” sequence, argue the significance of the “shadow pinky” and not finish the movie.
Just for the record, Bacardi is responsible for bringing me from this country into another.
I wash my hands of this.

I am going to France.