But a couple of years ago, I blogged about having the power to both pick a TV exec up by his throat Darth Vader style, and shut down a C-rated chicken shack. (It’s now a Chase Bank that I assume reeks of fried gizzard.)
Here are a few new spooky circumstances from my life:
• In a writing piece I was working on recently, I joked about dropping a phone into a dog’s water dish. Last weekend, I did just that.
• I tweeted about going up to actor Fran Kranz and praising him for his work in an indy film called The TV Set. Three days later I was assigned a scene from that very film in a casting workshop.
• This one worked in reverse: I mentioned to a friend last month how much of an enormous crapshoot is it to book a modeling job – the casting folks bring in hundreds of people to audition, and you can’t use your acting skills to set yourself apart because they just take still photos of you, etc. The next day I booked the PetSmart shoot.
So it seems I still got it. I mention something, it materializes. Know what else? The Jets haven’t won a Super Bowl since 1969. Reality show producers should be forced to apologize door-to-door. And it’s a truly rare occurrence that a suitcase full of unmarked hundreds gets tossed into my front yard while nobody’s looking.
