Cut The Crap.

When it comes to hair, I’m 180-degrees from Sampson: my super powers stem from me getting it cut.

And now that my role in the 70s film has wrapped, I had the off-the-charts pleasure of visiting Danielle the Hottie Hair Cutter and letting her go to town. My only direction for her was to end my being confused for Troy Palamalu from behind. She ran with it.

I already have so much to be thankful for in 363 days.

I Prefer The Term "African-American Friday".

Why are you reading this blog when you should be out picking up my Christmas gift? Here’s a hint: my favorite place is the Bank of America ATM, and I’m an XXL.

New Lycos column posted, entitled "Xbox, Xmas, Ex-Child Actor", for your four-day weekend enjoyment:

The Lycos 50

Mom, Send Out My Fat Clothes.

The menu for today’s huge Thanskgivingpalooza at my brother’s house:

27-lb. turkey
Cornbread stuffing
Regular stuffing
Mashed potatoes
Two types of cranberry sauce
String beans
Mashed yams
Sweet potato pie
Corn soufflé
Salad
Appetizer 1
Appetizer 2
Three-dozen dinner rolls
Cheese
Fruit
Chocolate cake
Apple pie
Pumpkin pie
Alternate pie
Two gallons of vanilla ice cream
Four bottles of wine
Beer
Bailey's Irish Cream
Blended gin drinks
Two cases of water
Case of soda
Two-dozen Juicy Juice

Appointment at Torrance Memorial for getting stomach pumped: check.

Happy Thanksgiving, everybody. Eat like crazy today. You've earned it.

Instant Classic.

My friend Jenn’s sage advice has saved me tens of thousands in therapy co-payments. The other day, she administered her wisdom once again, correcting me after I deemed The Curious Case of Benjamin Button one of the best films of the year before actually seeing it. I gushed about the trailer a few months back, but she was right.

Then last night I suddenly got to attend a special, early screening of the film at Paramount Studios.

It’s a lock to sweep the Oscars.

Director David Fincher has crafted a film that is as epic as The Shawshank Redemption. There are five acts, over 300 speaking roles and a running time of 2 hours and 44 minutes. And I wouldn’t edit one bit of it. It's beautiful.

This is a career role for Brad Pitt, who took on the unenviable task of playing a man in his eighties with the wide-eyed perspective of a little boy. The character was vulnerable and engaging. Meanwhile, Cate Blanchett was her usual perfect, and drop-dead gorgeous.

The film opens on Christmas, and though I know that day is traditionally reserved for the Jews to go catch a flick, I strongly urge the Goyim to join them. It made me want to be a better actor, and an even better person.

Feel free to leave comments here next month.

Must Take His Job.

While I still stay by the phone every June, hoping the Yankees will decide to take a chance on me in the 79th round, starring on a sitcom would be the second greatest job I could ever have.

And speaking of sitcoms, I wish gypsies had switched me at birth with Jim Parsons, star of "Big Bang Theory". I’ve mentioned in the past how much I love the show, and a few nights ago I had the nerdy, mind-blowing privilege of attending a screening of an episode followed by a Q&A with Jim at SAG headquarters.

Jim was massively intelligent, yet had the right amount of self-deprecation. He mentioned he was just as “broken” as the rest of us actors, and it got a nice laugh. Since he’s become the breakout star of "Big Bang", his intricate physics rants have grown into full-fledged monologues, and because the show tapes on Tuesday nights, Jim’s entire weekends consist of being shut in, memorizing lines. And for a broken guy like me, that is pure heaven.

Watch his show, and support one of the good guys.

Thrillah.

As you may recall, my film, The Beneficiary, was accepted into the first film festival in which it was entered: the Vine Shorts Fest.

Well, the final votes have been tallied, and the film has officially won the Vine Festival’s award for Best Thriller.

I’d like to thank my lord and savior George Clooney, for mentioning in GQ that he admires anyone who sticks his neck out to pursue a dream. Spending my entire life savings to produce a film that I wrote and starred in is feeling more and more worthwhile.

Relax.

My Arab brother:
Bungee-cording a pumpkin to your roof with a pilgrim hat and American flag sticking out of it is really not necessary. Just give me a cab that'll get me to the airport as quickly and smelly-free as possible and I’ll know you’re one patriotic son of a bitch.
-Matt

Another Contribution To Culture.

Something nice has started to happen with my Lycos 50 articles: they are less and less edited/censored lately. It’s much better than earlier entries, whose first drafts may have caused a few small aneurysms with the Lycos higher-ups.

I think I found a way to be funny without being too offensive. Who knew.

See the weekly recap titled "Featuring Football, Friendster and Fey":

The Lycos 50

Johnny Charisma.

You could spend a fistful of therapy co-payments trying to figure out who you are, and it’ll never be as thorough or speedy as being an actor. No business is nearly as introspective. And when you find your voice, and apply it to every audition, it is like spun gold.

John Mayer may not be an actor, but he’s a damn good entertainer, and no one knows himself better than John. In fact, his column in Esquire has had a big influence on my writing style.

Check him out in the above video with Kanye West, and see what I mean.

Oops, I Fell Down Again.

Shooting in 90-degree heat in polyester has fused my unmentionables to places even more unmentionable. But last night made it all worthwhile.

I got to watch my co-star fall down a staircase while holding a birthday cake a half dozen times.

It was so worth the prickly rash.

B-Level Celebrities Who Have Pet My Dog: An Ongoing Series.

Whenever I go out of town, Petey stays at a high-falutin’ kennel that he really doesn’t deserve (if you came home to your bathroom trash can contents spread around the apartment, you'd agree.)

It’s a nice place called Kennel Club LAX, right by the airport, and frequented by celebrities. One day, while dropping Petey off, David Alan Grier came in with two standard poodles. When David saw Petey, he cocked his head and asked what breed he was. When I told him he was a Pit, David’s eyes widened, but he scratched Pete's neck anyway. Which, come to think of it, wasn't deserved after the incident with my comforter.

Aww Yeah…

You know the sexual revolution was in full force in the 70s when guys wearing getups this horrendous were still able to get some. Shame on you, ladies.

This mish mosh of diarrhea browns is actually my wardrobe for the movie I booked, which began shooting over the weekend. So far so great, even with an insane shooting schedule. My scenes take place at a nighttime party, so I’m on location from 5 p.m. to 5 a.m. Yes, apparently there’s a 5 a.m. now.

In between takes on Saturday night, I took a nap, then was rousted out of my sleep and immediately brought to the set. Before the cute female director yelled “action”, she pulled me aside and pointed out the morning wood I was sporting in my tight, polyester pants.

At the time, I was so tired I was only slightly embarrassed. At least not nearly as much as I will be tomorrow, when it dawns on me that my mother is a daily visitor to this blog. Welcome to showbiz, Mom.

Kickass Sighting Of An Aging Rocker And His Pseudo-Wife/Actress Of The Month.

Gene Simmons and Shannon Tweed.
Landmark Theatre, Santa Monica, Thursday night.

Whaaa?

I ain’t the sharpest. I watched “Boston Legal” nine times before I realized it wasn’t a new “Star Trek”. So consider me flat-out baffled when I read about a film coming out next year called Inglourious Basterds.

The plot, via IMDb: “In Nazi-occupied France during World War II, a group of Jewish-American soldiers known as "The Basterds" are chosen specifically to spread fear throughout the Third Reich by scalping and brutally killing Nazis. The Basterds soon cross paths with a French-Jewish teenage girl who runs a movie theater in Paris which is targeted by the soldiers.”

Here are just a few of the oddities that caught my eye.

Quentin Tarentino is the director. I personally challenge the man to somehow incorporate Japanime into a WWII period piece.

In a belated Chanukah gift to my people, Brad Pitt will play a Jew. A Hillbilly Jew from Tennessee, actually. We haven’t been this proud since Daniel Craig got shpilkes in Munich.

Samuel L. Jackson merely narrates the film. This is a real head-scratcher, because I thought Samuel was contractually obligated to be on camera in every movie ever made. Heck, I was watching my brother’s wedding video recently, and I’ll be damned if Sammy L. didn’t make an appearance.

Mike Myers plays a general. An evil general? A general with a Scottish accent? A general that drinks poop? Details, please.

Can’t wait to see the final product in June of ’09.

Weekend’s here. Let’s have a can of beer.

True Tales Of Hollywood: The Zero Body Fat Edition.

This knucklehead is my friend Jett Schaefer. Actor, model, professional pilot, former college football player and a whole bunch of other resumé highlights you can feel free to join me in despising. Including being one of the final two choices to play the lead in the film Superman Returns.

Jett often appears on the cover of men’s fitness magazines, which is a tad less stellar than it apppears. Magazines aren’t big on locking down photo shoot dates, preferring windows of time that make cable guys look like pikers. So Jett has to maintain his abs for days on end, not in the shoot-me-I’m-dieting kind of way, but by literally starving himself. It ain’t pretty.

Recently, on the verge of ketosis after a shoot had been postponed a half-dozen times, Jett was trying not to pass out at the wheel while driving through Santa Monica. He got a call that yet again the shoot had been delayed, and he snapped and pulled into the lot for warehouse grocery chain Smart & Final. He walked in, and sirens went off – Jett was the store’s 1000th customer. He was handed a $100-dollar shopping spree.

Still famished and pissed, he bought 100 bucks worth of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups, took them home, and had a world-class binge. When the shoot day finally arrived, he told them it was their turn to wait. He hit the gym, laid off the food again, and lost his newfound chub.

So if you ever see Jett out and about, and attempt to offer him a peanut butter cup, be careful – he might bite your hand off.

Somebody’s Been Hinting For An Epilady This Christmas.

One hopefully final shout-out to the Vile One on Lycos 50, under “Palin’s Last Hurrah”.

The nifty bunch at Lycos and I continue our tug of war over my tone, but you’ll notice that in this latest post, my voice is starting to appear, which is swell. However, you’ll also find that in their frenzied rush to edit and put it online, the last paragraph of the piece is a bit dyslexic.

It happens. They’re still trying to figure out this new section of their site, so kinks will arise. They’re cool people. And their paychecks arrive rather promptly.

If you’re reading this late in the day they may have fixed the error by now. And if so, then ignore the previous two paragraphs. But feel free to re-read the "Vile" part. Enjoy:

The Lycos 50

LATE NOTE: The column you now see on Lycos now is the newest wrap-up, also written by me – except for the questionable title and its apostrophe typo and FUN! exclamation point. And I'm not sure that's Paris Hilton. 

Calming breath... it's why God created pencils with erasers.

Douche Chills.

For some, it’s a distinct Chardonnay. Others, erotic asphyxiation. For me, bliss is a good movie in a great theater on the best night of the week: Friday night.

We made our way to our seats just as the previews were about to roll, and I sat down next to a much older gent and his wife. Seemed like a nice enough couple, so I didn’t mind the husband occasionally asking his wife to repeat back a low-volume line he couldn’t catch from the movie. What I did mind however, occurred halfway through the film, when I felt his hand on my thigh, then the squeezing of my thigh.

Not familiar with the protocol of this type of situation, I chose to move his hand off my leg, and the cat snapped out of his nap and apologized for dozing off and thinking I was his wife.

While I’m forever determined to convince non-Angelenos that the people of this city truly are friendlier than the myth portrays, I draw the line at being molested by its senior citizens. So keep your hands to yourself, Matlock.

Okay, This Ends Now.

Thursday night, this blaze took a house behind my apartment.

Tuesday night, a dozen cops and a police chopper searched my block for two swell fellas who stole a car and committed a hit and run.

Monday, my old neighbor across the street passed away.

Last month was my next-door neighbor’s suicide.

A few months ago a kid fleeing police lost control of his car and took out a light pole, and his own life, just as he was about to pass my street.

Etc., etc., etc.

Do the local cops, firemen and EMTs have some sort of Starbucks-type frequent user cards for my street? Enough.

The fire by the way, burned wires strung from telephone poles near the house, leaving many homes in the neighborhood without cable TV or Internet. Arguably the biggest tragedy of all.

BTW – His Shirt Size Is XL.

It’s Petey’s birthday, and because I had a coupon, er, he’s been behaving, he got to pick out a toy at PetSmart.

Pete chose a lovely, blue, rubber bowling pin that makes a flatulent sound when squeezed.

Say what you will – the kid's got taste.

Just Shoot Dave.

There are days in this business that are so much fun, I can’t believe people get paid to be a part of it.

My friend Dave Goryl would agree, especially recently, when his character got shot in a movie. Here's some raw footage of said shooting.

Happy weekend. Stay safe.

Careful What You Wish For.

Must I be the savior of the greatest profession on earth? Yes, yes I must.

Last week, Joaquin Phoenix decided to retire from the movie business to pursue a music career. After learning to play guitar for his role as Johnny Cash, the man fell out of love with acting and in love with music, and now believes that’s his future.

Does he realize the Civil War battlefield-like carnage of actors who’ve ventured into music? It pains me to see someone just throw away his gift on some pipe dream. Okay, crap – I’ve become my dad.

Regardless, super=talented actor John Malkovich would agree. Here’s a recent quote from him in Esquire: “A lot of our wonderful actors, from Brando to George C. Scott, found [acting] a shameful occupation and really lost interest in it. But it always interests me, and watching others do it always interests me, and I don't find it shameful. I mean, as compared to what?”

Joaquin, put the guitar down slowly, and back away.

Let Me Get This Straight.

Thank Allah election day has passed, because the confusingly-worded California propositions were making me mental.

I drove past two women holding “No On Prop 8” signs the other day and gave them the finger. A block later I realized I was going to vote no with them. Oops.

My apologies, ladies, for the finger. And the loss.

I ♥ SNL.

Yes, I am a complete “Saturday Night Live” apologist. But there are worse things I can get behind. Like any show, movie, magazine, ad, billboard or pamphlet featuring the talentless Nicole Richie. I hate my own blog for even mentioning her.

New column about SNL on Lycos 50, under the title “Live From New York, It’s Still Alive”. You’ll have to scroll down to it:

Lycos Top 50

*Late side note: Lycos 50 had me quickly whip up a political/celebrity column during election day. It's at the top of the same page.

One Of These Things Is Not Like The Other.

Me, flanked by two incredible actors from my film, Ron Canada and John Kapelos, the night of my screening.

Over 120 people turned out for what became a really outstanding night. One of these people, an actress friend of mine, gave me a tidbit of praise, in the form of an email:

Matt:)
I truly enjoyed your film - you wrote a great story and the acting was stellar. I was so impressed. I was on the edge of my seat - very intense - I was one who let out that scream - that scared the hell out of me. Very original story and it was so engaging - never a dull moment and I wanted more - - what you did in such a short time was incredible. My friend Kitty also raved about it. Your whole cast was amazing, and everyone must be very proud to be a part of your film. You are so very talented in writing and acting. Great work my friend. Please keep me posted on the success that comes from this. Was this the first film you wrote? You have such a gift. Please let me audition for your next film. I see big things for you.
Thank you for inviting me, and the pre-party was really nice, too.
Avis:)

Is she insinuating that she liked the film?

Thanks to everyone who came out to support.

Just Proving My Point.

My nephew dressed as a chicken: irresistibly kissable.

Me dressed as a chicken: never getting laid.