There Is Pornography On Your Computer

8.02.05
3:12 PM
I had an audition this morning at House Produtions located at 450 W. 15th. In case you can’t place that, it’s WAY the fuck over on the West side. Like 11th Ave. The area around 8th and 9th is trendy and gay, then there is a lumberyard and then House. It was pretty fun to watch the actors walking past the rugged, sunburnt lumbermen, each with similar looks of disgust.
In the lumbermen’s minds: Ew, faggots.
In the actor’s minds: Ew, sweaty.
House has both an on-screen and a voiceover deptpartment. As for voiceovers, they do videogames, life insurance, whatever; but on-screen, they only do things like Calvin Klien commercials, and those really trendy commercials where you see a bunch of really attractive youngish people hanging out talking about life and cell phones. Anyway, every time I go there I see some of the most attractive people I have ever seen in New York City. The guys are always about one hundred pounds, sculpted and as gay as the color pink. The Urban Dictionary definition of “emo kid”.
The women, holy shit, the women. Women like this do not exist outside of commercials. They sit in a room at the top of a tower until they are called for an audition and then they descend in droves; although “droves” is too harsh a words to describe a group of women this attractive. Perhaps a “breeze” is more fitting. They are all beautiful, identical and as fake as the head of my penis and Christina’s tooth (the fake one).
This place used to be an art gallery and it still looks like one, minus the art. There are two 20-foot long wooden benches in the middle of a narrow hallway and then the hallway opens up to a huge room with giant 50-foot floor to ceiling windows overlooking the West Side Highway and, sadly, New Jersey.
One of the best things about this place is the music. Every time I’m there the music reflects the weather or general feel of the day. I was in on a beautiful Spring day earlier this year and I heard Flaming Lips, Katrina and the Waves and Guns N Roses (Sweet Child O’ Mine), I went in once when it was shitty and raining out and heard Air, Beck (Round the Bend), and some really amazing dark wave ambient stuff that redefined “mellow”. Same with today, although I didn’t recognize anything but the original “Lean On Me”.
This is the same place I scored the Charlie and the Chocolate Factory voiceover gig and they asked for me to come in and read this thing today so I hope not to disappoint. The only direction I received was three words: Smart, interesting and straightforward. “Straightforward” limits just how “interesting” you can be so all I really had to work with was “smart”. I didn’t say ‘duh’, so, yeah.
Meanwhile, the second version of the MET Party CD is quickly taking shape. Philip and I have improved upon the track listing and now have only to arrange the songs in the way that impacts you most…in the ass. In a few weeks we will ave another MET party so le me know if you are planning any weekend excursions away from the city any time soon. You will need to have a working Discman or iPod. If you have a CD player, you will receive a CD when you arrive, if you have an iPod (or any mp3 device) I will create a link to an .rar or .zip folder with the mp3’s for you to download and then put onto your device.
A fancy dress code is strictly enforced. It’s also a very important element for the MET party. In random street clothes, we’re jus a bunch of random 20 something’s dancing around, but in fancy dress…we’re superhot and lovesexy…well, most of us anyway. Also, people tend to ask less of you when you are dressed up. In fact, they ask less questions too. They assume you are overdressed for some important reason and are therefore an important person who cannot be bothered by “common folk”. It’s quite a rush.

4:59 PM
There’s a person here whose last name is Duckette. Duckette. Like a small duck in France.

5:17 PM
Some bitch just called up.
She said, “Gee mi keetchen numbah.”
“3847”, I responded politely.
“Tree eh fuh seb?”
Then click, she hung up on me.
Now, in order for her to call the keetchen, I have to release the line. But, since she was a Rudey Poo, I left her on hold, rendering her impolite ass keetchenless. Nobody fucks with the Operator.

5:28 PM
I enjoy the phase “pregnant pause”. Both its actual meaning and the image it invokes.