who dat? contest: |
sud-a-fucked As my cold/flu continues to kick my ass sideways, I think Ill simply write a short Sudafed haze-induced poem about anything that comes to mind. Are you sure youre ready??? To be sick is really wack alright, I just cant continue this, its too painful. Rhyming. Man, how did Dr. Suess keep himself from jumping off a bridge? Im sweating in perfect air conditioning, and my head feels like its in concrete and I cant talk very well and my temporary crown hurts and I keep coughing and no one wants to get anywhere near me and I dont blame them. Ive been sleeping a lot but not nearly enough. Last night after the movie I guess I was being kind of silent and M. tried to drag me into a fight in front of her visiting Mom. Pissed me off man. And while fighting in front of your mom is one thing, it brings a bigger thing to mind: what is it with some of you and the openness with which youre willing share your life with strangers? In Vegas just hating life, waiting for my late airplane, about half of the people were on cell phones. My hangover and quick-moving cold is making me want to die, and Im listening to this shit: "John. Are you there. Hello!? John. Oh, good. John. Listen, its me." (People who, unless theyre a wife or significant other, refer to themselves as me, piss me off. Who are you?) "Yeah. Im stuck in the Vegas airport. I know. Sucks. Listen, I need you to do me a favor. Do you mind? Are you sure you dont mind? OK, listen. My babies the dogs I need you to let them out. Yeah. OK. The key. You know my back stairs? You know the little ceramic turtle? Yeah, the one I got that time in Barbados with Phil. Was it Phil? Rick? You think I was with Rick? I honestly dont remember. God. I havent thought about Rick in years. What? Oh, yeah. Anyway, the key is under the turtle. Let the babies out. Now John, listen. Bela will just do her business on her own. But Franz. Franz needs to be coaxed, you understand. You have to encourage him. To poop, John. Heres what I usually say, Poop, Franz. Poop. Do your business. Do your business." And while hes, you know. Kind of cheer him on. Yeah, good pooper. Good pooper. And then, that was a good poop. You got it? OK, thanks darling. I dont know when Ill be home. I owe you one. Bye." What so many people seem to lack, especially in this town, is a sense of the world around them. People litter, people drive however they want, people talk loudly on cell phones, ignoring the fact that not only is it tacky to share your business openly with the world, but that people simply may not want to hear you yap yap yapping. As I write this, a woman with the most god awful cackle you have ever heard is just laughing away right near me. It must be on par with the fingernails on blackboard pitch because I think Im about to throw something at her. My point is, and Im sure Ive made this point before: people are mostly oblivious to the world around them. It is never good to be overly self-conscious, but part of maturity is recognizing the effect you have on the world, and trying to, if not make life easier for others, than at least to not make life more difficult for others. On stage for instance, an actor can absolutely be locked up with watching himself all the time, and thus will never really be free or commit himself to the reality of the world hes trying to create and struggle within. However, an actor who has no concept of anything other than his blind desire to go after "what he wants", will eventually fall off the stage, or in an intimate moment make it so he cannot be heard, or in a fight, actually deck his fellow actor in the mouth. Ive seen it happen a million times. Actors have to find a balance between self-involvement, involvement with others, and a general awareness of the world around them and their place in it. Same thing goes for everyone. Just open your eyes a bit, people. Meanwhile in terms of opening your eyes. Im just finishing reading a book by trash author Anne River Siddons for work. (Im getting paid to read it and tell my bosses what I think of it.) Anyway, when I got the book I couldnt remember if I knew of her name because she was good or bad, so I looked at her jacket photo. Eeeeeck! Its not so much that this woman is ugly, but rather it seems that she has no clue what vibe shes giving off by appearing in her picture, wearing huge Sally Jesse Raphael tinted glasses, a massive Dear Abby coif, 3 pounds of make-up, and holding two fluffy tabby cats up to either cheek. I mean, you have to at some point look in the mirror and just go, "OK no." Elsewhere
Latest script news: Finally
who told journalists that were
interested in every single thing any of the following do: Liza Minelli, Barbra Streisand,
Liz Taylor, Whitney Houston, Cher, Sophia Loren, Bette Midler, Rachel Welch? Seriously.
Who told them this? The Larry King Happy
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