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swinging the angry stick

Well, what the motherfuck is new! I’m pissed-off today.

I can think of 4 main things (along with an endless number of smaller things, I’m sure) that have specifically contributed to my wanting to pick up my hard drive and throw it across the room, take my stereo and smash it into my desk, and then take my Club off my steering wheel and break the windows of every SUV in the parking lot. (Lest you think I’m a violent person, I also want to cry, so there.)

I went back to the dentist today for a cleaning. My crown has held, so everything is cool. Now as I’ve explained before, I’m a welfare client as far as this Beverly Hills Dentist is concerned, so they (unless I’m handing them 500 bucks for a shitty little piece of porcelain) treat me like crap. Well I get there and they sit me down. Obviously they’ve assigned me the worst dental technician in the office because she has the exact attitude of supermarket check-out clerks in New York City, and is about as interested in her job. She gives me the most cursory fucking cleaning I’ve ever had in my life (I mean, I could’ve chewed a Milk Bone Dog Biscuit and gotten the same dental benefits) and then as she’s filling out my chart (the wrong chart, as I would eventually point out), she "suggests" I get an electric toothbrush. She then pulls out a boxed toothbrush and gives me a sales pitch on this vibrator with bristles. Yeah, sure, in LA everyone is hustling, but for your dental ho to be shilling like Ron Popeil?! It’s just sad.

Twelfth Night. Going so well. A week and a half ‘til opening. All is good… except. There’s this guy, my dramatic partner in crime – Toby is his character’s name – who I’ve mentioned before is the squeaky wheel and gets all the attention at rehearsals. He’s really good but just bossy. Really bossy. And it’s getting on my nerves. His famous line, "Help me, make this cross. Help me, make this line work." Fine. Great. I’ll counter you on that bit if it helps open you up. Whatever. But the thing is: if you ask him to reciprocate, he won’t. Or he gets mad. Or he will do it, but you can see he’s impatient and just burning inside. But, as they say, I ain’t no punk, so I started being like, "No." Well, he of course got really pissed and bitched to the director (and his friend), and was just really shitty on Monday.

Now listen: I’m not the only one who’s mad at him. Everyone is. But the director comes to me yesterday and asks if there is a problem. Well, do you go to your girlfriend’s best friend if you have a problem with your girlfriend? No. Of course not. But regardless, I bitched and said that "Toby" was the most selfish actor I’ve ever worked with and that I will not let it affect my performance but at the same time I will not let someone treat me like crap. He said he understood and called Toby an "insecure actor" and it was insecurity we were witnessing, but I don’t give a fuck. So then I broke my own rules of conduct and approached him and said, "Are we cool?" He started saying, "I guess. You really pissed me off on Saturday." – and I had to bite my tongue ‘til it bled and I simply repeated, genuinely, "So we’re cool?" "Yes." "Cool." And I walked away. But man, it hurt. Funny thing is he still tried to boss me around last night. Lord help me not to lose it.

And here’s the million dollar question (this doesn’t just go for acting): How much should you put up with before it starts really fucking you up inside?

I also already mentioned this script I’m covering right now that is just ass. Awful. And my annoyance is compounded by the fact that this writer is repped by a company that just turned me down. Anyway, the script just got worse and ended being literally one of the worst things I’ve ever read. Today I started writing the coverage. Here’s the first line of my comments:

"There are so many things one can say about this script, but almost all of them end with the phrase: ‘and not in a good way.’" My boss is used to my bitterness, but this is an all time high (low?).

My fucking christ what a day. We got our 100 copies of the short back from the duplication place. Frank dealt with the whole thing and he calls me to tell me he got them. "Is the title on the labels in Courier, small case," I ask? "Shit. No." So I call up the dupes place and this bitch and a half… no, you know what – I’m pulling out the big gun, folks – this motherfucking bitch cunt gives me attitude. "Well, you can fix them yourself and I’ll credit you the Five Dollars we charged you for the labels-" "Wow," say I. "Five whole dollars!" "Or you can bring them back and it’ll take us five days to correct the problem." So I breathe and try to explain that that really isn’t very helpful blah blah blah. Finally she tells me that Frank told her Times New Roman and that she has it in his writing. Now, she was still a complete and total bitch but if Frank did say the wrong thing, I feel not only wronged, but incredibly stupid and embarrassed.

…Update. Frank wrote Courier for Title, Times New Roman for everything else. He is 100% positive. Bitch is going down tomorrow.


…Seriously, think about the above question. It pertains very much to relationships too: When you do start hurting yourself by letting things slide, letting something be? And when do you need to say "ENOUGH", even at the risk of ruining everything. Please, let me know if you have any idea. I’m all confused over here.

The Larry King Happy Song Corner

king larry.gif (10010 bytes)

So loud. You sure could yell. Larry took a stand on every little thing. And so loud. Standing above the crowd, he had a voice that was strong and loud and I swallowed his facade cuz I'm so eager to identify with someone above the crowd. Someone who seemed to feel the same. Someone prepared to lead the way. Someone who would die for Larry. Will you? Will you now? Would you die for me? Don't you fuckin lie… speaking of which. Man, have you seen these new Pokemen? That little dinosaur guy? Oy. To die for.

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