6.1.11
4:11 pm
That is what I said earlier today in exchange for money.
Yes, real, actual money.
It appears, in an effort to pussify the children of today, the AMA has created some sort of a mist option that kids get shot up their noses as opposed to cold, hard, steel needles plunging into their supple, pink bodies.
And I am one of the spokesvoices for this pussification.
I would feel bad, but for the money I'm going to receive.
Depending on how many of the voices I recorded today that they use, I will get paid a fee, double that fee, triple that fee or quadruple that fee.
I'm hoping for the last one.
But, here's the fun fun.
This thing I recorded...it isn't for TV...it isn't for radio...it isn't even for the Internet...it's for doctor's offices and your motherfucking iPhone.
That's right, the Flumist app, hitting cyber-shelves in August.
I am going to help children.
Bottom line.
I am going to help children.
And you know that is exactly what I am all about.
Helping children.
While I was in the waiting area waiting for the fun fun, I sat and spoke with Mark Odgers, a colleague of mine who I've worked with a bit over the years.
We discussed just how few people we, as actors, can relate to.
99.9%....you know what? Fuck that, 100% of the people we tell about a typical booking (I had to read the same paragraph six times and get a thousand dollars for it) respond with the same thing: Fuck you.
Obviously Mark and I understand these people don't really mean it...but...yeah, they kind of do.
Which is fine.
You get your "Casual Fridays" and your wacky office Christmas parties and we get Kraft Services and inordinate and incongruous amounts of money for relatively little work.
But our job is more competitive.
And sexier.
And, honestly, harder than you think.
Like skulling.
No, not skullfucking, skulling.
I'll never forget the time my father popped in around the end of my summer a crew camp and tried to make it seem like what I had learned to do was easy.
He almost topple ass over pumpkin into the filthy depths of the waters of Pelham, NY.
Anyway.
So we had a natter.
We also addressed the obligatory buttplug you occasionally see at auditions who talks loudly about how well they're doing, booking this and that and this, and the two assholes who always have that fucking routine:
"Uh oh! Look who's here!"
"Whoa! Clear out everyone! This thing is OVER!"
etc.
Again, we have quite an unrelatable profession, but WE'RE PEOPLE TOO!!!!!
FRAGILE PEOPLE THAT NEED TO HAVE CONSTANT ACCESS TO CHILLED SPRING WATER!!!!!!!
AND GET PAID FOR IT!!!!!!!
OR WE'RE NOT SIGNING ANYTHING!!!!!!!!
Speaking of railway accidents, I just spoke with Chris and she confirmed what I had witnessed around 3:15 today: the 6 train I was on did, in fact, kill someone.
The report doesn't state whether the person was pushed, jumped or fell, but, in the end, based on the way the crowd of firemen were looking and gesturing at tracks between four separate sets of cars...that person is no longer with us.
The only thing we can do now is hope they were evil.
Or maybe pregnant with an evil baby.
Or an ugly one.*
THAT is how I get through things like this.
Two things regarding this experience, one which astounded me and one which disgusted me:
First, the sheer numbers of people, ambulances and fire trucks in the area above ground.
And second, the filthy dog fuckers lining up along the walls of the subway station, cell phones at the ready, to record what the firemen retrieved from under the train.
May all your children suffer the same fate as that poor fucker you're fighting to get footage of.
I hope you get to enjoy watching someone struggle to capture the unique experience of having your friend or family member pulled, in baggies, out from under a subway.
You fucks.
And, amidst all this chaos and bloodshed, Christina tells me there is a tornado, hail and wind warning in effect for New York City.
Tornados.
In New York City.
Golf ball-sized (is there really any other size?) hail.
In New York City.
70 mile per hour wind.
In New York City.
Who opened that fifth seal?
I swear...
I also picked up dry cleaning for the second or third time in my life.
The lady was totally nonchalant, like she did this several times a day, every day, and I played it cool as well, but inside, my heart was flying.
I PICKED UP DRY CLEANING!!!
I think the excitement stems from the fact that, no matter how messed up my nice clothes get, these dry cleaning mages always manage to get things spotless and folded...without a drop of water.
It's as unnatural and amazing as a duck-billed platypus.
But I digress...
I finished A Game of Thrones and needed a break before plunging right into A Clash of Kings, so I picked up Mike Sacks' Your Wildest Dreams, Within Reason. Mostly good, some real gems and some things too inaccessible even for me.
*slow, yet sincere clap*
At home, I've been scorching my way through the four seasons of 24 that I missed, namely, the fourth through the eighth.
Two or three hours into the sixth and they just keep on raising these stakes...I'm seriously concerned about the plot of the final season.
Will Jack be a clone?
Will he have to eat his own face?
Only time will tell...
I've also jumped into L.A. Noire and I'm having a lot of fun with it.
It's not quite as messianic as the reviews made it out to be, but it is a superb experience.
On the artistic tip, I finally got down to recording the first few chapters of Mr. Phil W. F. Tucker's demon-hunting opus, The Grind Show.
He, reportedly, is enjoying it xmax.
As soon as I have a clear, audition free morning, I plan to record another few chapters.
Three down, thirty-eight to go.
Let the adventure continue!
And then there is Chris' birthday this weekend.
I'll be dressed as a sweaty guy in a fae costume.
I have a super special gift for Christina that is going to blow her mind.
As soon as I had it, I kept trying to give it to her because I was so excited...she's resisted thus far, but I'll wear her down...
AND, at this party, one Ray Zablocki will be presenting me with a Warlock guitar that he no longer has use for.
I did some digging and this thing looks fucking awesome.
Even if I never use it as a musical instrument, I could make a living just posing with the god damn thing.
I will look like the Guitar Apocalypse with this thing in my hands.
Who knows, I might even learn to make it sing for daddy...and you shall all reap the "benefits".
Reap them hard.
All right, that's enough.
Time for a hail bath...
7:00 pm
Just got back from outside.
You know, with the tornados and hail?
No tornados, no hail, hardly any fucking wind.
Just humidity.
Humidity and anger.
Call me crazy...but does anyone else think that installing some sort of punishment for weather forecasters when they are incorrect would serve to both make weather forecasters less cavalier when it comes to making false predictions and make me feel better when weather forecasters are wrong?
Ponder, whilst I drip...
*STREUTH!
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