Once Again, Out-Of-Context Thank-You Notes I’ve Recently Written To Casting Directors.

• If you’ve never been to a Passover seder, the best way I can describe it is: the most boring drinking game ever.

• Too bad I’m not attracted to androgyny and self-pity or she’d have it made.

• It’s pretty safe to say I’ll never become a blood drinker. I have trouble keeping down Strawberry Quik.

• At this point, why don’t they just open a separate school for kids that don’t have a peanut allergy?

 • God Hates FAQs.

• “Ah, shit.” – anyone sitting behind Slash at a movie theater.

Hero.

An Update.

I like to manage my time well. In fact, I’ve spent the last month reading through the 86,700,000 Google results for “Internet addiction.”

Yeah, the Web can be vicious, as I found out the other day, when I had to ask a guy to stop using pics of me on his gay profile on Plenty of Fish.

I sent him a reasonable but firm email, and over the weekend his reply included this logic:

“…oh by the way once you put your pic on the net its out there and it comes with the territory dude…” 

Actually it doesn’t, dude. The pics come from my blog, which I own, and you posting them is copyright infringement. When my friend Jenn, a kickass lawyer, learned what happened, she pounced on it and drew up a high-falutin’ letter (it contained the word “expeditiously”) which I sent to the legal department of Plenty of Fish.

But before I replied back to him, he sent me this:

 “…now shut the fk up, I don't even log on to the sites no more…”

Well, since he asked nicely…

I waited to reply again. And then he sent me this:

“Hey dude I apologise I thight about it and if that was me id be totally pissed too yeah it was fked up, so ill leave it that dude…”

On the off chance this gentleman was capable of killing me and wearing a suit made of my skin, I chose to instead kill him with kindness, and I finally replied and thanked him.

He apologized again and even attached a couple pics of his real self, and I shifted to feeling compassion for the guy. It’s a little heartbreaking to think that people are out there who feel as if they’re not enough.

And to them, I’d say something I’d meant to include in the card I wrote to my friend’s son for his Bar Mitzvah, about things every man should know. When I was younger I spent years wondering what made someone charismatic. And what I found was that it’s not a flair for words or an ability to own a room – it’s simply owning oneself. If you’re a comic book geek, own it. Car’s a piece of shit? Own that. Your body type, your job, your clothing, your level of intelligence, the nutty way you walk, talk laugh, sneeze or cry, own it.

Make no apologies, and that is charisma, my friend. And no man or woman can resist it. Be good.

Oscar Thoughts.

I had a ballgame last night and came home late, but I sped through the Academy Awards on my DVR and took a few notes:

• If Seth MacFarlane didn’t host the Oscars, he would’ve ragged on Seth MacFarlane hosting the Oscars.

• Tommy Lee Jones was looking to win the Oscar for not giving a shit about the Oscars.

• I prepared for the Oscars by judging and resenting people more successful than me. Going great so far.

• I realize now that my kryptonite is Oscar musical numbers.

• As a tribute to Zero Dark Thirty, how bitchin’ would it have been if they had included Bin Laden’s picture in the “In Memoriam” reel.

• I bet Spielberg had to be talked out of letting Lincoln live at the end.

• I was about to get really upset about Catherine Zeta Jones lip-synching, but then I remembered that I’m not a gay hair dresser in Atlanta.

Why The Terrorists Hate Us.

More Trailers For Movies I Can’t Wait To See.

The only book I care about is Facebook.

But I care deeply about movies. Here are a few that look like winners:

 
Iron Man 3 
Main Cast: Robert Downey Jr., Guy Pearce, Ben Kingsley
Premieres: May 3rd
Thought: Ben Kingsley as a super villain? Gandhi would shit his loincloth.

 
The Great Gatsby 
Main cast: Leonardo DiCaprio, Tobey Maguire, Carey Mulligan
Premieres: May 10th
Thought: Stan Roth, my first acting teacher out here, taught Leonardo and Tobey when they were teenage friend. It’s about time they acted together for money.


Star Trek Into Darkness
Premieres: May 17th
Thought: Khan is played by a guy who once played Stephen Hawking. That is some range, dude.

 
The Lone Ranger
Main cast: Armie Hammer, Johnny Depp
Premieres: July 3rd
Thought: My friend Jenn was on the set of this film, and stared face to face with one of the actors in makeup, not recognizing him. It was Johnny Depp.

Back Off.

Sometimes my life is like a really broad sitcom where no one would believe the premises.

I received this email yesterday from one of the readers of my blog:

“I was approached by a guy online who shared your pics, claiming they were him. When I brought up your site and blog he claimed they were his alias... He has these pictures on a few gay dating sites now. 

Not sure if you want to press charges for copyright infringement. If you do, let me know and I can give you all the information I have on him.” 

Thanks so much for the heads-up. I have mixed feelings about this. On the one hand, it probably isn’t a good thing for an actor to have some dude representing himself with my pics and saying lord knows what to men online. On the other hand, I’m strangely flattered – I’m gay catfish bait!

I wonder which pics he used. Hopefully ones featuring my good side. And definitely not the one of me in the commercial, dressed as a bottle of hot sauce. That’s gotta repel both men and chicks.

But seriously, to the guy using my photos: do me a favor and just take them down. I don’t know exactly why you feel the need to dupe men (though I imagine as a child you were hugged either way too little or way too much), but there’s a great big world out there with great fun things to occupy your time, and someone real and special that you ain’t gonna find unless you shut down the laptop and leave the house. Even Bruce Vilanch gets laid. So get after ‘em.

*Late last night, the guy who clued me in to all this was kind enough to send me a screen-grab of one of the profiles. Not cool dragging Ricky into this, douche: 

A Lesson.

Every day is a gift. That said, I’ve gotten some pretty shitty gifts over the years.

Yesterday, I was on my way to donate blood when I was held up in super slow traffic before finally being diverted by police.

Pissed, I turned into the detour, wove through a couple parking lots, parked at a gym and walked the rest of the way. And then I learned that the road-block was set up because some poor guy on a motorcycle had slammed full-speed into a van, ironically right in front of the Red Cross.

Ironic to a point. The motorcycle rider was instantly killed. No blood transfusion necessary.

Every day is a gift. I’ll gladly take spending it stuck in traffic over the alternative.

Three-Day Weekend Recap.

Lesson learned: never have your friend, whose day job is waiting tables, join you for dinner at his place of work on his day off. You’ll find out that most of the menu, including the pricey but outstanding homemade hot chocolate cake, is prepared in the microwave… Re: the above picture – after posting the unique angle of the Hollywood sign last week, in honor of Presidents’ Day is an angle of the Washington Monument you never see… In a casting workshop on Sunday, I did a scene about an obnoxious guy giving his girlfriend a hard time as she tries to break up with him, and in trying to convey how much she liked the scene, the casting director said: “I wanted to punch you in the face.” I really like my job.

Today’s Blog Has Been Postponed Due To Extraordinary Weather.

It’s 81° in LA in February, and on this, the third day of a three-day weekend, I’m calling an audible and heading straight to the beach. So no entry of any substance today, but I’ll be back strong tomorrow. Besides, I make it a firm rule to never drink and blog.

Protecting The Streets Of Crazy Town.

Yesterday in Long Beach, this crime-fighter donning a green mask rode past me on his bike. Guess his Bat-shit Mobile must be in the shop.

This Week In @mattshevin Tweets.

• I will understand everything else before I understand chocolate chip bagels.

• “Larry Bird’s kid tried to hit his gf with his car? Gotta make a reference about his dad’s accuracy, but HOW?” – every asshole on Twitter.

• No means no, Facebook event inviters.

• The Google Maps Street View car just went by while I was in my underwear in my garage doing laundry. #NewHeadshot

• Just posted my annual Valentine’s blog entry. This “respecting women” thing is going to get me wicked laid.

 • The delicate controller in my new DVR is about as accurate as whizzing out a third-story window.

A Valentine’s Gift To All My Current Girlfriends.

Live it up, men. Valentine’s Day is the perfect time to meet vulnerable women – it’s scumbag Christmas!

All men except me, ladies. I’m a lover. And for you, I present my annual list of ten things I think you should know about men:

1. The best way to prove to an ex that you don’t think about him anymore is not by writing and producing a song saying so. 
2. Belly piercings are a dynamite way to let everyone know you hate your dad. 
3. Dudes who make a habit of saying “bros before hoes” usually have neither. 
4. Whenever I hear an uninteresting 80-year-old woman tell an uninteresting story, I think, “Wow, she must have been really hot.” 
5. To save time, break up with John Mayer without ever dating him. 
6. When a guy tells another guy he got engaged, it leads to, at most, 30 seconds of conversation. 
7. Don’t worry if you haven’t gotten that diamond you were hoping for today – it’s still in a Sierra Leonean’s butt. 
8. Ink is way sexy to us, but keep in mind: one day nursing homes will be full of former hotties trying to remember what their tattoos mean. 
9. The man you have a crush on will either like you or not, but never knowing will haunt you forever. 
10. You can’t ruin a friendship with sex – that’s like ruining ice cream with chocolate sprinkles.

Hometown Hero.

If you don’t want me to be interested in what you’re working on, simply describe it as a “passion project.”

Unless you’re Nick Kroll. Nick is a super talent whose new show on Comedy Central – “Kroll Show” – just got picked up for a second season, a nearly impossible feat on that network.

Nick grew up in the same suburb of NYC as me. (I mentioned last week that Jason Bateman also lived there until the age of four.) He comes from an obscenely wealthy family (they lived in an enormous house on the water, and owned the home next door, which my mom, a real estate agent, says they used to rent to Alex Rodriguez for $34,000/month), which makes it all the more impressive that Nick (or as my mother calls him, Nicholas) came out to LA, put in his dues for years and to this day works his ass off to keep his show on the air.

And the show is on tonight, and I highly recommend you DVR it because it’s hilarious. And while you’re at it, feel free to give all the guys from Rye, NY your unmitigated support.

And A Pit Bull Shall Shame Us All.

Ricky is like if a Red Bull were a puppy.

And that’s my friend Pat, above, letting him get in a friendly nibble last August. Pat is a teacher in New York, and left this comment after I posted the montage of Ricky howling at Ambulances:

“One of my students was singing during class. I played this video at full volume. Thank you Ricky for an appropriate response.” 

Pat, you took the clip to that kid like a boss. Let’s go halves on turning it into a ringtone.

I Shoot A Leading Role In the Web Series “Claire And Greg”: An iPhone™ Photo Gallery.

When I found out I’d get to spend an afternoon acting one-on-one with the incredibly talented, super sweet Jeff Harlan, whose credits include “Bosom Buddies,” “Taxi,” the pilot for “Mork and Mindy” and the movie Auto Focus, I pretty much made a sound only dogs could hear.

Harvey Alperin played the doctor in The Artist, which means he was a member of the cast that won a SAG award for best ensemble in a drama last year. Nonetheless, in between takes I tattled on him by telling our sound guy that Harvey appeared in a silent film.

One of our locations was a really nice home in Long Beach owned by a gay couple, whose bathrooms featured the most phallic shower heads ever.

Click on this panoramic shot I took from another location, and you’ll get a spectacular look at, from left to right, Universal City, Universal Studios, the mountains of Burbank, and, to the far right…

…a view of the Hollywood sign you rarely see, or as I like to call it: America’s mightiest weapon in the war of freedom.

A Glimpse Inside Your Preposterously Large Head.

So, Christopher Dorner, you were a cop, and one day got a call to check out a hotel lobby where a man was loitering and when the man refused to stand up from the couch he was planted on, you kicked him in the face and wouldn’t stop until your own partner had to use a taser on you, and then you got kicked off the force and were really steamed?

Come on, Chris – can’t we be friends? Or at least frenemies?

Hold on – then you had to kill three people, including the daughter of the cop who represented you at your hearing? You’re going down.

Oh, and your manifesto was a little chatty and self-aggrandizing, maniac. Good riddance.

Drag.

How’s my life? Let’s just say I’m starting a lot of sentences with “let’s just say.”

Actually, it’s going really well. Never busier. In fact, I’ve been cast in a few really good comedy sketch videos that shoot this weekend.

But here’s where it gets a tiny bit concerning. A quote from an email sent to the cast and crew the other day:

“Matt Shevin, we will provide your ladies pant suit. Got any idea what size you wear in ladies clothing?” 

My answer was honestly “no.” But starting tomorrow, I’ll disturbingly be able to say yes.

This Is How It’s Done.

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Jason Bateman
www.thedailyshow.com
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When I meet someone who’s smart and funny, but they think they’re smart and funny, they no longer appear smart or funny.

But it doesn’t matter what Jason Bateman thinks about himself – he’s brilliant and hilarious. And we’ve crossed paths once or twice. He lived in my hometown in New York until the age of four, and we did Habitat for Humanity together. Good guy.

Click above and check him out on “The Daily Show” last week. Quick, affable, self-effacing. He’s the best.

An All-New “Excerpts From My Text Messages.”

I am never without my iPhone in hand. In fact, this April, I’m considering live-tweeting a seder.

And I especially love texting. So here are a few new, real messages from my phone, with my outgoing texts in blue and green:

 

I’ll Miss It.

Autoerotic asphyxiation is not the most embarrassing way to die. Some people have been trampled to death at a Monsters of Rock festival.

And then there’s the graceful way to go out: by choice. Which is exactly what “30 Rock” did last week. No network cancelation; Tina Fey and her staff had done everything perfectly for seven seasons, and decided that was enough. Inevitable, I suppose.

“30 Rock” cranked out episodes so full of ridiculous, silly, surreal and razor-sharp situations I often kept my thumb on my DVR remote to backtrack and catch anything I’d missed. And the premise was terrific – life backstage at a “Saturday Night Live”-type sketch comedy show. This was postgraduate sausage-making.

Yeah, it sucks when TV becomes a little less great. But I will honor your wishes, “30 Rock,” and not resuscitate.

Super Bowl Party: An iPhone™ Photo Gallery.

My friends Al and Krishna hosted the party. Krishna is a huge 49ers fan, and came home the other day to find that Al had switched every framed photo in the house to a pic of 49er great/Krishna’s perfect man, Steve Young.

It ain’t an LA Super Bowl Party without a celebrity in attendance. Sporting the Kangol is former Laker player/Dallas Maverick head coach/Laker assistant coach Jim Cleamons.

Coach Clemens and his family are all class, bringing Krishna a box full of yummy 49er-only cookies.

Enjoying his first Super Bowl party in between naps: a nine-week old foster puppy named Tux.

I’ve always maintained no lady can put a ring on it. Unless it’s a ring pop. And you’re my niece, not wanting it to impede her ping-pong game.

The 49ers may not have won the game, but their last-second field goal in the first half won me a cool 50 bucks in the party’s pool.

And then when I got home, Ricky literally took his cut of my winnings.

Rest In Peace, You Crazy Bastard.

I’ll never forget what I was doing when I learned Senator Hinton Mitchem died: googling “Senator Hinton Mitchem.”

But when Ed Koch passed away yesterday, I was bummed a bit, if only because he died on the morning of the very same day a documentary about his career was set to premiere in theaters.

As Mayor of New York, Ed Koch was hit (saved the city from bankruptcy) and miss (the crime rate went out of control), but always way interesting. One of his gutsiest moves came after the Yankees won the 1978 World Series, and critics warned him not to hold a ticker-tape parade while the city was in financial straits. Ed green-lit the parade anyway, and it cost $2 million, but it wound up lifting the city’s spirits when it needed it most, and it began its recovery.

By the way, baseball wasn’t even Ed’s thing. Let’s just say he was a “confirmed bachelor.” Or as the NY Times put it: “Not a sports fan.”

He’ll be missed.

Semi-End Of An Era.

If Lance Armstrong was your hero, you’re the one you should be disappointed in.

Quit believing in false gods, and start looking up to the folks who lead by example. While it’s nearly impossible to find a mentor in showbiz, I luckily found an amazing one in an acting teacher named Stuart Robinson.

My swagger, my persistence, even my sense of humor come from a very Darwinian place. I didn’t have these qualities as a kid – I adapted them. And it was Stuart, through his direction and story-telling rife with analogies that I became the actor and person I am today.

Stuart’s commercial acting class should be required by executive mandate for anyone who sets foot in an audition room. And I loved his theatrical (TV and film acting) class even more. Before he would hand out scenes for us perform, he went around the room and pointed to each of us, wanting to know what we were up to at that moment to propel our careers forward. No other acting teachers do this.

“Try to get a no,” he would say. If you want a great agent, or a casting director to meet with you, ask them. Try to get them to say no. You’ll be surprised how often they won’t.

He also told us to constantly repeat out loud what we wanted out of life. Once, one of his students stood in line at McDonald’s, and when the guy behind the counter asked him what he wanted, the actor half-jokingly said, “I want a car.” An elderly woman standing behind the student said, “Young man, you need a car? I have a Mercedes sitting in my garage I never use.” She gave it to him for free.

Last year, a big casting office in LA asked Stuart to become their CEO, and he then split his time between overseeing their office and teaching. My Gym Children’s Fitness Centers them approached him to also become their VP of Marketing/Brand Extension. And with that, Stuart unfortunately has to now limit his teaching to just one commercial class each week.

I wrote an email to him yesterday, explaining to him everything he’d done for me, mainly because I wanted him to know that even though he has to now cut down on his passion – teaching – he had a tremendous impact on me and thousands of students who are now driven, happy working actors.

Thanks for everything, sir.