With my penchant for chain eating, I won’t feel truly successful until I have a sandwich named after me. And hopefully that sandwich will be as huge as my fat-guy aspirations.Of course, my sarcastic readers would follow that last paragraph up with a joke like, "You should be named after a sandwich that's really mediocre, kinda like your blog." And honestly? That hurts. I just hurt my own feelings projecting your fake emails.
Last night, I attended a table read in which I read one of the lead rolls for a screenplay co-written by my friend Denise. I’m sworn to secrecy about the script, so more on that sandwich. It was glorious – meats, onions, peppers, three kinds of cheese. That’s right – they invented a third cheese.
Seriously, it was a great experience. A room full of 24 producers, writers and actors bringing an incredible script to life. I laughed. I cried. I fluctuated between German and American potato salad. It was Heaven.
