Thursday, March 23, 2017

Supporting An Actor.

I’m the kind of friend that will help you hide a dead body. But if you ever piss me off, just remember: I know how to hide a dead body.

I’ll spare my friend Ariel, because I owe him several dozen favors. Last night I paid one of them back, by helping put him put an audition on tape for a huge film.

By “huge” I mean the names in the scenes were changed to conceal characters, and the script had security settings that made it non-printable.

I’ve said too much. Glad I could help.

Wednesday, March 22, 2017

Wanna Go Halfsies?

Please don’t come to my garage sale if you've ever let me borrow something.

Speaking of selling shit that isn’t yours, I passed by a shop on La Cienega the other day that’s selling the original sign from Paramount Studios. Want to own a piece of showbiz history? All you need is 30 grand.

You know who can afford it? Paramount Studios. How have they not snatched it up? Arrival grossed $197 million.

Wait – I checked. Paramount is looking to post more than $500 million in losses from 2016 and 2017.

Still, maybe they can throw a bake sale.

Tuesday, March 21, 2017

Games On.

I show up for my nephew’s Little League games because it’s important that he knows I’ll swear at other kids, too.

Opening day has arrived, and I’m glad it’s here. My brother is coaching my nephew’s team again, and I’m there Friday nights and Sunday mornings, always armed with gum.

It’s tradition for the cousins to share a moment between innings.

Obstructing my view is LA Clipper forward Brandon Bass, whose son is one of my nephew’s teammates. Every dad fawns all over Brandon during games. Less fanatic: the ump on the left, full of chutzpah, about to tell Brandon to get off the field and close the gate.

Monday, March 20, 2017

The Four Bars Of St. Pat’s Weekend.

Are potatoes so much healthier if they’re baked? My friend Greg is baked all the time, and he’s got diabetes.

Still, I loved kicking the weekend off with a baked potato bar. Then shifting gears to more appropriate St. Patrick’s Day bars – the ones offering liquor.

The Sunset Marquis is where all the biggest musicians stay while in town. Seal is there right now. It’s also where my friend Rob is staying while he shoots some commercials here. The back bar there is a hidden, outdoor, perfect spot across a little bridge in West Hollywood.

From there, we stopped by the bar at Barton G., which you may remember from last month’s post about the craziest dishes around. No food this time – only the outrageously decadent drinks. Best $46 buzz in town.

You can have your Taco Bell when you get the munchies, but for those of us who find the cheese to lettuce ratio way off, there’s Fig & Olive. We sat at the bar and had crab cakes and carrot and ginger soup. Even my stoned friend Greg would prefer it over a taco with a friend chicken shell.

Thursday, March 16, 2017

Fly The Phenomenal Skies.

As I was about to get out of bed at 5:30 a.m. on December 17th, I received a text from JetBlue. Because it was snowing in New York, my flight there had been delayed a few hours. I reset my alarm and happily went back to sleep.

Meanwhile, if my flight had been on United Airlines, I would have found out it was delayed as I pulled into LAX. And United would have charged me $25 for the bags under my eyes.

No charge from JetBlue. In fact, they paid me – $50 toward my next flight, because they felt bad. An act of God, and yet they still were generous. Who does that?

I’ve now cashed in the 50 bucks and booked a flight to New York in May. My little brother and I are going to go to a Yankee game/Derek Jeter’s number retirement on my birthday. The opposite of flying United.

Love you, JetBlue. Love you.

Wednesday, March 15, 2017

White Out.

Fog is like lingerie for the sky.

And the sky here has been downright slutty the last few days, with the densest fog we’ve had in years.

Case in point: I took the above pic of a lacrosse practice at Mira Costa High School. (“Mira costa” is ironically Spanish for “look at the coast”, which we haven’t seen since Friday night.) If a player scored, it’d be his word against the goalie’s.

Obligatory science lesson: it’s been warming up here, and when the hot air flows over the ocean, which is super cold because the current comes down from Alaska, the air cools and condenses, and we get fog. Then the fun begins. Since you can barely see your hand in front of your face, driving is a formidable task. And you’d better have your head on a swivel walking your dog when a car comes flying past.

Gotta go. Seeya later. Sort of.

Tuesday, March 14, 2017

Hard Pass.

Sorry I reported your newborn’s pic on Instagram, but nudity is nudity.

Actually, I have no problem with nudeness, if it serves a purpose. The above casting notice doesn’t seem to have one. A naked comedy show. It’s gotta be the one time on stage you’ll REALLY want to picture everyone in their underwear. Forgive me, but even Playboy knew to get out the naked business.

So I’m going to somewhat-respectfully decline. And for God’s sake, anyone who does attend this thing – please wait until you arrive to change into wardrobe.

Monday, March 13, 2017

St. Patrick’s Tech Rehearsal.

Some call it alcoholism, I call it “keeping your emotions hydrated”.

The sign in front of O’Hara’s last night pretty much encapsulated the entire weekend.

Also worth noting: thanks to daylight savings, the clock on my oven is finally right again.

Friday, March 10, 2017

Logan’s Crawl.

Have you ever heard someone honking so aggressively for so long that you’re like “This was never about the traffic, was it?”

That’ll be my evening tonight, because I’m going to see Logan. But I’ll be down in Orange County beforehand, then driving to Hollywood during rush hour – which means it’s going to take me an hour and 45 minutes to get there.

I presume that will qualify me as having made the longest trek in the world to see Logan. Does that entitle me to anything? A Marvel koozie, perhaps.

An hour and 45 is a beast. It’s a road trip. You could drive from Manhattan to Philly in that time. Only this culminates with me sitting in a theater for two hours and 13 minutes. Eh – my fat ass will tear this up.

Thursday, March 9, 2017

Frame Of Reference.

Any time someone says, “Have you seen that YouTube video?”, always say yes – because otherwise he’ll make you watch it on his phone.

A video I’m proud of was shot last night. I couldn’t make it to an audition for a really good role in a film, so my friend Ariel was super helpful and put me on tape. Thanks for the assist, sir.

By the way, quick acting vocab lesson, since a civilian friend of mine laughed at me for calling it “on tape”. Actually, being put on tape is very much an industry term these days for shooting your own audition, and used by all casting directors and actors, in case you want to seem like a pro. Use it three times and it’s yours.

Wednesday, March 8, 2017

“The Danza.”

/THē danzə/
noun 
Named for Tony Danza, for his frequent portrayal of people named Tony.

Tuesday, March 7, 2017

Take Two.

When a dish comes out of the dishwasher still dirty, I put it back in for another round, because I believe in second chances.

Looks like Debra Sullivan is getting hers. I blogged about her mutant headshot a year ago yesterday, and now she’s attempting round two. May God have mercy on her soul.

Monday, March 6, 2017

My 2800th Blog Post.

I’ll try anything like seventeen times.

And some things a whole lot more. As is tradition, here are my five favorite entries from the last 100:

New York: A Photo Essay. Bedbugs, hookers and overalls – this entry has range. Give it a gander here. 

The 2016 UNICEF Halloween Masquerade Ball. The most fun you can have for the price of a down-payment on a house. Spend it with me. 

I Got To Say It Was A Good Actor Day. Aaron Eckhardt and I savor the moment. Join us. 

In Which I Lose My Shit Over A Film. Just my opinion, but I think the end of the Oscars was a fiasco in reverse. My winner is here. 

A Valentine’s Gift To All My Ladies. If I can help just one woman get laid, I’ve done my job. Spoon with me and enjoy.

Friday, March 3, 2017

House Of Worship.

I never understood why everyone talked so fast in old movies. What was the hurry? There was nothing to do back then.

The old flicks don’t really do it for me, with one major exception: anything with the Marx Brothers. I love them. It’s partially because I’m the middle of three boys, and my brothers and I watched every Marx Brothers movie with our dad over and over again. He really loved them, too. But mainly, the Marx Brothers were so far ahead of their time. They weren’t doing the asinine Three Stooges bits – they were smart and hilarious and always consistent.

For a little while, I took an acting class with Groucho Marx’s granddaughter Jade, and had to really contain my infatuation with her family. Then, last week, I passed Groucho’s old house in Beverly Hills and was immediately star struck. It encompassed everything LA is to me.

As actors, we’re always searching for our motivation. I kinda found mine.

Thursday, March 2, 2017

28 Seconds Of February.

Shout out to all the hotel maids who had to change sheets on February 15th.

 I trust the rest of us had a good month. I know I did. Here it is, one second per day: