And I know just what to get them: a smelly couch.
No acting class is complete without one. No makeout scene is nearly awkward enough without one. And forget scouring Craigslist to find it. You don’t buy a smelly couch; you discover one. By a dumpster. In the parking lot of a porn sound-stage.
I took the above pic on Saturday at a casting workshop, and this was one top-shelf smelly couch. I stared at it like it was the briefcase from Pulp Fiction. Before my ears teared up and I dry-heaved.
