Monday, April 29, 2013


i was on a date with pitbull. he spent the entire night referring to himself in the third person and giving me his 'killer sexy looks'- except he wasn't sexy. he was like a harmless but annoying uncle at a quinceanera who (because he is dressed in a suit) thinks he is irresistible and keeps grabbing the karaoke mic from everyone in the mistaken belief that his version will bring the house down. the other thing he kept talking about was how women were constantly throwing themselves at him but that he had to be careful because of who he was and he wanted to be sure i didn't fall in love with him tonight. i said, what? and i laughed. then he got all serious and gave me a long speech about how i was different than other women he had known (mind you i hadn't said anything but 'what?' all night...) and that he thought maybe we could fall in love, but i had to wait to have sex with him because he had to be sure i wasn't after him for his power, fame and money. by the time he finished his speech i felt sorry for him because he had dropped enough clues to indicate that he had some kind of sexual dysfunction and was simply living a life of total overcompensation to try and cover it up. i gently patted him on the shoulder and said, 'don't worry sweetie, i've led a huge life. i'm in no danger of losing myself in you.' i smiled at him and he seemed relieved that i obviously understood the core issue. just then simon pulled up in the bus. he had just returned from some political rally and the whole bus was full of geeky looking people in costume who were still carrying the placards they had waived around all day. simon waited patiently while i said goodbye to pitbull and then opened the bus door and tried to convince me to come to his next cockamamie rally. i said no thank you, but i'm glad you had fun. i backed away from the bus politely deflecting the attempts of his friends to engage me in conversation.

Saturday, April 27, 2013

nursery bathroom

we were shooting at a school, but it also seemed to be a home. there was so much activity and chaos. no one seemed to know what was going on, what scene was up next- nothing. everyone in every department was scattered throughout the location and it seemed like no one knew how to use the walkies. i had to pee and i couldn't hold it one second longer. the door was locked but i had no choice but to stand and wait. when i finally got in i realized it was a baby nursery. i felt around for the light switch but every one that i flipped only specifically turned on some rainbow, mood or baby disco light. i finally just turned them all on since the combination offered me just enough light to see the toilet. what was a toilet doing in a babies room i thought. everything was carpeted and blanketed and there were stuffed toys everywhere. yuk, i thought. how stupid and unsanitary. just then an animatronic dog lifted it's head and looked toward the door as though it had heard a sound. really? who would put a kid in a room like this? it was like a science experiment a disney fanatic would conduct on their spawn to see if it ultimately turned magical or something. i finished peeing and the toilet flushed itself (naturally...), but there was no sink to wash my hands. i plunged back out into the chaos (and light) to find one of the actors was not wearing his costume. where's his costume? i said to kim. i really have no idea she laughed. he needs to be wearing his costume! i said again. she shrugged her shoulders and said she thought she'd seen it earlier in the day on a hanger somewhere. i asked the actor and he grinned like an idiot and said, oh, yeah, yeah... i had it, but i have no idea where it is now.

Wednesday, April 24, 2013

jersey shore gang

it was the 4th of july. the kids and i were in the hollywood hills waiting for tony to come back with the suburban. we were making a picnic dinner to eat during the concert before the fireworks. the kids were singing and playing games and it felt happy in the house. i was finishing up in the kitchen and heard a loud crack and splitting of wood. the kids near the front door started to scream. i ran toward them but was stopped dead by 'the situation'. i looked behind him and all the orange-skinned, slimy cast members from the jersey shore were grouped in a triangle like big-haired bowling pins and all of them were holding guns. the situation looked at my shocked expression and said,  'that's right, i'm 'the sitch' and these here be my gang...' as he threw some fake, made-up gang sign known only to new jersey douches. his accent was 'jersey' but his affectation was weirdly fey- like he wasn't out of the closet yet but was so desperately gay his body was making it drip out of his every mannerism. for example, he pursed his lips and tilted his head after every comment. also, he waived his gun around so that his wrists would wind up in a little flourish each time. i tried to get the kids to run into the woods by signaling them with my eyes (a game they knew) but the little ones clung to my leg in total fright and would not budge and the older kids stayed rooted to their spots and watched helplessly. 'look,' said 'the sitch', 'we know tony's worth a few hundred million- all we want is all of it and he gets his kids back no problemo!' at this comment the sitch apparently felt amused and looked back to his cast-mates for high fives and other affirmations. it was easy to see that they were all stupid, but i couldn't take a chance on calling their bluff to get out with the kids because i knew from experience that  some of the most unpredictable people in the world are also the dumbest. soon tony pulled up. i tried to tell him with my eyes that there was danger, but even though i knew he understood, his kids were there, so he came in full force anyway. knowing the older kids could take care of the younger ones i said to the situation, 'that's a good plan, except it's a holiday, so no banks are open. there's going to be a lot of dirty diapers, crying and vomit if we take the kids anywhere, why don't you take me, leave tony here with the kids and tomorrow when the banks open, we can all find out that I'm a family member too and you'll get your money. this seemed to totally stump the stupid gang. the house now reeked of spray tan, over-applied versace cologne and the cloying sweetness of chanel number 5 and it was starting to make me feel nauseous- but i knew none of them would want to get baby shit under their plastic fingernails. i finally convinced them to let bailey (who was 13, could take charge and think his way through anything) take the babies into the woods (there was a well hidden path directly to his grandparents house, but the stupid gang figured they would just be lost in there. I put together some food and diaper/wipe essentials for the little ones, packed them into the pockets of the dog's trail carrier, strapped the baby on bailey, cinched the pack on the dog and sent him quickly off with three other little ones trailing behind.

poor little esme had to come along with tony and i.

fast forward and we are in some obscure laughlin hotel room. tony, esme and i are in our clothes and sleeping side by side on a king sized bed with polyester sheets, a crappy mattress and foam pillows. both esme and tony were in deep sleep and lightly snoring. i wrapped my body protectively around esme and stared into the darkness. the door opened and the jersey shore gang crept into our room and started whispering that we looked like a bed full of money. i closed my eyes and feigned sleep. within moments the room grew hot and damp and silently filled with somalian gang members. they were huge and muscular. they began to reach into the throats of the jersey shore gang and pull out their epiglottis and lungs. except for a slight gurgling sound, it was a fairly quiet process. the sitch was forced to watch it all before it was his turn. the terror on his face was immense. 'but, what about them?' he said pointing to us, 'they're worth millions!' 'we want BILLIONS.' said the somalian leader. 'if they stay asleep, they win and go back to their lives- you on the other hand are going to stop bringing unwanted attention and skimming our profits right now.' with that, he reached into the situations mouth and pulled his heart out through his throat. i was so terrified i stopped breathing. i listened and tony and esme were still snoring. i somehow found it within myself to emulate the rhythm of their breath and kept the rhythm as one by one the bodies of the jersey shore gang were dropped out of the hotel window, each landing with a sickening thud and crack on the pavement below.  

the somali pirates stood for a  moment at the foot of our bed until they felt satisfied we were unaware and still asleep. i heard them leave and laid still until dawn came. as the light filled the room, i saw the walls were covered in blood.

Tuesday, April 23, 2013

john goodman and the baby

my 16 year old niece was in the hospital giving birth. it was all very sad because she was giving it up for adoption. my old man was john goodman and we rode in on his softail to lend support. when we got there the baby had just arrived and my niece was a mess. the nurses and staff were treating her like a dog because they had already obtained her signature to take possession of the baby. they were speaking to her in very harsh tones and trying to wrestle the baby from her roughly. john took one look at the situation and said, 'we're takin' the kid!'. he reached over and snatched the signed paper from the nurse's hand, ripped it into a thousand pieces and told me to gather up the baby. my niece and i were in shock. john looked at my niece and said, 'don't worry, the kid will always be yours. just finish school and get on your feet, he can stay with us until you graduate from college if you want.' my niece's tears dried immediately. just then her parents arrived and john said, 'let's go!'. suddenly the baby was 7 months old and looked exactly like john- adorable. i struggled to find the right position because now the baby was so big. 'put the kid on your back like a papoose, that's how danny and donna do it.' he said. i did and we rode off.

Monday, April 22, 2013

tom cruise

tom cruise was sad. his marriage to nicole had broken up and he had gone on date after disastrous date until he had given up. he wasn't weird or strange or angry or brainwashed by a cult like he seems to be in real life. he was a mega movie star with some social difficulties who had his affairs managed entirely by a group of slithering sycophants who called themselves 'scientologists'. day after day tom would try to forget how hard it was for him to talk to people (female people...) and he would make awkward attempts to interact with women he came across. none of it turned out well. some recognized him and were bitter that he had only asked them for a coffee, some didn't recognize him and just thought he was some short guy in a japanese motorcycle jacket who paid too much attention to his hair and was trying to pick up on them. some were enthusiastic but for all the wrong reasons. tom walked everywhere by himself and cut a lonely figure. finally his chef, trainer and personal assistant (all women, none part of the scientologists) came up with a plan to hold 'auditions' for toms next girlfriend. at first when they told tom, he was against it, he seemed embarrassed and tried to leave the room. the women blocked the door until they could convince him otherwise. little by little, tom started to see the light. soon he was grinning ear to ear and saying things like, 'of course! it makes perfect sense!'. the women smiled and readied themselves for the meeting with the sycophants. had tom gone to see them by himself, he would have soon been talked out of the idea, but the women surrounded him and hit the scientologists with both barrels until they only had the choice to agree.

when the auditions began, they looked from the outside like regular afternoon coffee dates, short walk to the shop, chat, drink, short walk back. the difference though was that because it was an 'audition', tom did not feel awkward. he was funny and relaxed and totally did not take it personally if it all went south (which it often did...). as an actor, tom understood that he was looking for the 'fairy dust factor'... the 'sparkle'. when katie showed up, she wasn't really dressed for anything but coffee. she was smiley and fun the minute she walked in the door. on the way to the shop, she saw a girl who was wearing two different shoes and ran ahead to tell her how adorable it was. the conversation flowed, there was a fair amount of laughter, tom was charmed. he made a second date.

the women had given tom the 411 on katie before he saw her again- and it was all good. she was liked by most people in her life and she had acted, so she knew about that life. when they met the next time, tom told her everything so she would have the chance to back out before it went any further. katie just laughed and said she had put a poster on her wall as a little girl and told everyone that she was going to marry tom cruise, so there!

they fell in love and live happily ever after for 6 whole years. the end.

Sunday, April 21, 2013

faux synopsis

i was handed a synopsis of the project, but it was weird because as i looked it over i realized there were lines of dialog scattered throughout. the office was dark and cool with creamy terrazzo floors and large potted palms in every available space. it seemed more like a lobby in an exclusive tropical hotel than the headquarters for a studio in the middle of a metropolis. i hadn't brought anyone with me to go over legal points or negotiate for me because i thought i was just there for a meet and greet and to pick up a script. the executives and their assistants were animated and fawning, it was awkward. i was glad i had dressed in my favorite outfit because it was chic and expensive and i knew they understood it said something about how close they could hover. i picked up my phone to call my agent and heard a commotion at the door. it was madonna and her entourage. suddenly it seemed that every door was erupting with a movie star and her entourage. what the hell is going on? i thought. the executives and their assistants started saying things like, 'oh, they look SO amazing when you see them all together!' and 'this is going to be GREAT!!' madonna and the other female stars headed almost directly to a studio area where mics were set up across a stage for a live read through. wait. what?! were they looking at the same pages i was? how could they even find their lines?! at first i let myself be herded to the stage, i looked frantically at the other talent for some cue or recognition point that i had missed- but they were all icy and avoided eyed contact with me. it was obvious that they were all familiar with the material and had essentially memorized it already. we did one dry little read through and it was a wreck. i couldn't even find my lines. i was just about to slide into a meltdown when i stood up, tossed the pages to a nearby executive and said, 'this is not a script. i'm not pulling this out of my ass.' i grabbed my bag and started toward the elevator. i was intercepted by all the other actresses who were now warm and sharing, 'oh please don't leave!' and 'look, my pages are clear!'. i thought to myself, gee i guess these cunts really need the work because they are now actually being generous with me.

i ran over the piece with the women a few times until the pacing was right and then i agreed to go live. it turned out great.

Thursday, April 18, 2013

swiss boarding school

i was 15 years old and attended an exclusive boarding school in Switzerland with a student body of 1200. there had been a fierce competition for one of the 3 spots open every year to very small and even more prestigious performing arts school. i had made it through the ranks and finally been chosen along with 2 other girls and was scheduled to give my winning monologue in front of 3 of the arts schools administrators that afternoon. all day long everyone was sick with nerves- except me. i had written my monologue and given it so many times that i just kept visualizing it in my head as i went about my day and felt confident i would have no difficulty remembering the piece. all day long other students kept giving me encouragement in the form of knitted, worried brows and tender hands upon my shoulder. by the time i was waiting in the wings to go on stage, my confidence was so eroded that i felt i needed to do exactly as the two other girls in front of me and hold my manuscript as i performed. the only thing i felt certain of in that moment is that i would have precisely enough time to make it to my dorm room, grab the pages and be back in time to make my entrance. i left my place in line, breathlessly mumbled to my teacher that i needed my pages and heard the roar of applause for the first performer behind me as i flew out the door on my ill conceived mission. suddenly the halls and stairways of the school were a labyrinth to me. maybe it was because i had exited the back of the theater, but absolutely everything seemed to be turned around and though i was running as fast as i could, i had taken so many wrong turns and gone up and down so many stairways that it was ages before i reached my room. i grabbed my pages and burst back into the hallway but again, there seemed to be no direct route back to the rear of the theater. as i finally reached the door and opened it, i was met by a sea of shocked faces and a deafening silence from the other side of the curtain that i knew meant the audience had left. i wanted to explain, but i was so out of breath that i could only hold up the leaves of my fully memorized monologue. as i looked at the sad faces of those around me i understood that it was too late .i threw them on the floor, sat down and started to cry.

i spent the next few hours attending my classes in a state of numbed silence. i was summoned to the head masters office where i was informed the performance itself was only a formality and had no actual bearing on my admission into the elite arts program. i would be enrolled with the others. as i listened to him, i understood that i had created my own crises that day and silently vowed that i would never let external influences affect my confidence again.

Saturday, April 13, 2013

christmas crabs

a bunch of us were spending the summer in a giant and beautiful house in the country. white post fences, sprawling pastures and lawns and so many bedrooms in the house, sometimes you really had to make an effort to run into someone if it wasn't time to swim or eat. it was bliss. everything was so clean and beautiful that all of us just felt fortunate and happy. about two weeks into our stay, we had finished up all the wine stored in the kitchen, so one afternoon i went on a solo exploration to find the wine cellar. i made my way downstairs into the partial basement ( it opened out onto another sprawling hillside lawn...) and after opening a few doors found it- fully stocked of course. there was straw on the floor which made me smile as i felt it was quite charming. i walked over to pick out a couple of bottles for dinner when i noticed three giant 'straw balls' sort of hanging in one of the corners. the two in back were dark, tight and kind of moist looking, the one in front was dry and loose looking. as i moved closer there seemed to be some kind of reactive movement inside the thing. i pulled backed instantly and watched it from arms length. after a few moments i realized it was a giant nest of baby spiders. there were thousands and thousands that i could make out moving in the straw. the ball began to rock ever so slightly and then tipped forward from it's perch and broke open on the floor. immediately the baby spiders spilled out like a liquid at my feet an began moving toward me. i shrieked, closed the door behind me and ran to get the others (taking the wine of course...). in a few minutes we were all back at the cellar door. the spiders we realized were actually baby christmas crabs and were quite harmless, except now they were oozing under the sill of the closed door like warm honey. at the same moment we remembered the puppies, they all began to teeter out of their whelping box and head for us- walking right into the crabs. we all began to shriek wildly, scooping up puppies and frantically brushing crabs off of them. i ran back into the kitchen and grabbed the orange peel spray. when i got back to the basement, i emptied it on the hoard stopping every last one dead. at first everyone freaked out thinking i had sprayed a pesticide and were worried because the puppies had been exposed. i reassured everyone as i passed the bottle around that it was only concentrated orange oil and was quite harmless to mammals. then we all felt sad about the baby christmas crab genocide but agreed it was the only thing that could have been done. we spent the rest of the afternoon shrieking and carefully removing and relocating the remaining two nest balls to a safe (and distant) forest location. after dinner we all got a little drunk and laughed until we cried.

Thursday, April 11, 2013

impressionism vs. renaissance

 a protracted discussion/debate of impressionism vs. renaissance

Tuesday, April 9, 2013

brad pitt & angelina jolie 

i was angelina jolie and my bf was brad pitt. we were junkies. we lived on skid row. someone took my puppy, but i was so loaded i couldn't remember anything about it, i only knew it felt like the last good thing in my life was gone. brad kept saying, 'it's okay, baby, don't worry...', but it wasn't anything more than words because he had just hit up and was on the verge of totally nodding out. i looked down at my hands, they were almost black from living on the street. my wrists and arms were hardly more than bone and skin and were covered with scabs and infected sores. i kept thinking, 'how did i get this bad? why is it so hard to be another way in this life?' i heard brad yelling motherfucker at someone. i looked up and saw it was just some other random junkie he had pressed up against the wall and was grilling incoherently about my puppy. brad threw a couple of wild punches then began to stumble and reach around looking for a place to lean. i looked around at all the garbage in the giant drain pipe we were in and i thought, 'this is not a life that i can live anymore.' brad slid down the wall and laid down in a wet pile of plastic bags, moldy clothing and urine. he still looked beautiful to me.