Monday, December 17, 2018

The Most Wonderful Time.

I don’t need Christmas gifts, because I buy myself all the presents I need. And because of my drinking, they’re often a surprise.

Give me holiday parties instead, like the one my friends Aina and Bru threw on Friday night. It was the nicest get-together, complete with my favorite people, super delicious food, and a yule log on the flat-screen. (It’s an HD yule log that’s 10 hours long, complete with the sound of logs crackling. You can find it on YouTube here.)

My third holiday party in seven days is coming up this week. Which means more egg nog, and subsequently more surprises coming my way.

Friday, December 14, 2018

In A Winter Wonderland.

The most unrealistic thing about Die Hard is that an office held a Christmas party on Christmas Eve.

Last night was the biggest corporate party night of the season (the evening traffic snarl proved it), and I went to a kickass party at a completely rented-out Bowlerama. That is, until I had to leave halfway through to drive an hour to a casting workshop. The sacrifice we make.

Thursday, December 13, 2018

Wednesday, December 12, 2018

An Excerpt. (And A Video.)

I love when I’m watching a commercial in which someone is rock climbing, and “DO NOT ATTEMPT” flashes across the screen. Me: (After not getting up from the couch in 12 hours): “Okay.”
Bryan Cranston was equally as clueless about rock climbing as me, until he auditioned for a commercial for Mars bars which required him to repel down a large rock. In his book, A Life in Parts, he wrote about fabricating his repelling experience to a casting director. He wound up getting a callback, in which he had to demonstrate some skills. He panicked, then asked a total dude working at an outdoor gear store to give him a crash course:
I met Chad up at Chatsworth Rocks, not far from my boyhood home. He pointed to the top of a boulder about forty feet high. “This stone is choice ’cause it’s got some gnarly vertical,” he said. We ascended four stories up. Chad tied a thick climber’s rope to a large boulder, then gave me a crash course before having me go the bottom of the rock to watch him. He descended effortlessly, springing off the face twice before floating gently to the ground. Totally gnarly. 
Then it was my turn. I had to gather all my courage just to hear Chad’s instructions. Both of my hands clutched the rope in front of my body and I wasn’t perpendicular to the rock. Instead, I was dangling, my face so close to the rock I could kiss it. Chad tried to assure me I wasn’t going to die. I stared at my hand and mentally commanded it to move. It didn’t. I felt a chaos spreading throughout my body. I was having a panic attack. I stared down at my hand and gave it one more stern command: MOVE, GODDAMN IT!  
Surprise! It did. My hand swung around back and grabbed the line behind me. I let the line out and back-stepped down the rock toward the ground. I made it, but in a sickening flash I had a desperate feeling in my bowels. I told Chad I needed to run back to my car. “Forgot something,” I said.  
I made it halfway back to the car before I got the feeling I was about to be opened up like the chest-bursting scene in Alien. I found a secluded spot and dropped trou.
I returned to the rock and made my way down it easier. The third time down I was shrieking like a child in a bounce house.  
Two days later, I was at the callback, up against four other guys. The casting session was held outside a three-story building. The first actor peered down, fearful. He took halting, stuttering steps down the face of the building. The producers and director whispered to each other and shook their heads in dismay.  
The second guy tried to outdo his predecessor by yodeling a few times, but his maneuvering was lethargic. The producers and director started to panic. My turn. I knew what they wanted, so I said, “I see the guys are using a double gold line through their figure-eight descenders. Is it alright if I hook up with a single?” They had no idea what I was saying. I barely knew what I was saying.  
I leapt backward off the ledge. After getting some significant air, I hit the middle of the building’s face like a bull’s-eye. I reloaded my legs and pushed off, soaring high into a 360-degree turn and landing back on the building. The part was mine. I knew it.
Two weeks later, I received directions to the location where we’d shoot the commercial. I shook my head. Chatsworth Rocks. I was a little cocky now, and as we were getting ready to roll, I told the producers, “You’re not going to believe this, but Chatsworth Rocks is where I first learned to repel.” 
Here’s Bryan’s commercial:

Tuesday, December 11, 2018

Make It Rain, Trinidad.

I’m just going to cut out the middle man and start cashing my paychecks at In-N-Out.

So keep the double-doubles coming, because my first residuals from “The Bold and the Beautiful” are coming in. Getting free, unexpected money in your mailbox is really swell.

Yes, I live paycheck to paycheck , but through hard work and perseverance I hope to soon live direct deposit to direct deposit.

Monday, December 10, 2018

Weekend Lowlights.

You could probably call my moodiness “Visa”, because it’s everywhere I want to be.

Perpetrator #1: I won’t get into specifics, but a cat pissed multiple times on my clothes. I drenched them with Nature’s Made and sprinkled on baking soda in an attempt to neutralize the otherwise permanent smell. That cat may actually get to live.

After an amazing Cinderella run through the playoffs, my nephew’s soccer team ran into a powerhouse and lost last night. Season over. 0 out of 5 stars. Would not recommend. Thank God it’s Monday. 

Friday, December 7, 2018

You Oughta See The Other Guy.

My dog still insists on acting happy around people, despite my example and training.

I left a towel for his dog walker to use on him yesterday after they walked in the rain. Then I received this text: “After I dried Ricky with the towel, he thought I was playing with him and grabbed the towel from me and ending up ripping it up pretty good. I apologize, and can replace if you need.”

Sean, absolutely not necessary. Not the first time, won’t be the last – I received the same text a couple years back from another dog walker.

Another day, another Bed Bath coupon processed.