Behind the Closed Door, the One We Painted Green

Ahh, another day, another hangover at my desk. I am dry as dry toast, my friends. My shoulders and back ache from doing pull-ups, and my eyes are smudged with silver and black from last night’s shoot. Many people were dressed like pirates for some reason. I have no idea if the script justifies this, because I can’t bear to actually read it, so I just roll along as if in some kind of peyote dream where people are dressed as pirates and talking about galoshes. My favorite line from last night was “What are you gay?” “No, you’re gay…” Who ever heard of a gay pirate?!? When people weren’t quibbling over sexuality, they were being out-acted by a parrot named Marny. Her comic timing was truly impeccable.

Oh but guess what, I have another shoot tonight! Praise be to the Gods of Creative Output! What would I do if I had to spend a Friday night painting, watching a film, or doing anything other than standing around in my underwear looking like a bad date with Courtney Love, reciting “He is a little Pony Bootsie. You’re just close-minded”, for 2 hours so they can shoot it from about 50 different angles. I hope my butt gets it’s own line in the credits. After Marny, of course.



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