I'm not still anguishing over what size speedo to wear. Sorry I haven't written. I'm trying to throw myself back into writing this play but it's been difficult for a number of reasons. Okay, not THAT many. Really only one.
So this morning I got a phone call telling me I got a "hold" for that Major General Stanley ad. It shoots on the 11th and 12th (two days? For a picture? What kind of incredible speedo IS this?). I should hear about whether I booked it or not sometime this week. Maybe.
I'm on hold for the principal. No, not that kind of principal. I'm not in trouble. I mean, the principal dude in the ad. Like, the one who gets to stand in the Major General Stanley pose.
But in addition to being "on hold" for that, I'm also kinda "on hold" for any one of the several extras. Yeah. Like the Irish Beer ad.
Oh, I didn't write about that one, did I? I can't remember. I've been naked so much lately my short term memory is shot. But yeah. I did "extra" work for this Irish Beer ad. While all the other guys and gals with more "middle America" hair and facial features got to pose with pints of this brown stuff, lookin' all happy like they didn't have a care in the world, I sat in the back of the bar with my head turned toward the corner to make it look like there were more people in the bar.
I came up with this scenario that I was actually the most important person in the shoot. Like, the ad was really about how we exclude our friends from our happiest moments because they're "different".
But yeah. I can't figure this one out. For the Major General Stanley last ad they just snapped some pictures and photoshopped a bunch of guys in front of a soccer goal. And they say they might need extras for this one?
Great. Maybe the back of my head will be in this one too.
Monday, June 30, 2008
Friday, June 27, 2008
My Problems
Such a life I lead. I called the Cachinnator last night for some advice.
I'm being called in for a second callback for Major-General Stanley Rum. You know. The brand with the pirate standing with one leg on a barrel?
The first callback I was to come dressed as a soccer player. The idea was that there would be a line of soccer players protecting their "selves" from a fast-flying soccer ball, while the player on the end is in the Major-General Stanley pose.
I don't know what I did wrong, but I didn't book that one. I guess they were looking for Ken dolls to play the soccer players.
And it's about to get worse. OH, so much worse. By this time tomorrow, I'll have another self-image complex.
Because *this* Major-General Stanley ad is supposed to be competative swimmers feeling self-conscious about...yes...their teeny speedos.
So my question was do I go with the speedo that actually fits me, or do I go with the one two sizes too small.
This is my life.
I'll let you know what happens. And if the Vercace models throw me into a self-loathing dither.
I'm being called in for a second callback for Major-General Stanley Rum. You know. The brand with the pirate standing with one leg on a barrel?
The first callback I was to come dressed as a soccer player. The idea was that there would be a line of soccer players protecting their "selves" from a fast-flying soccer ball, while the player on the end is in the Major-General Stanley pose.
I don't know what I did wrong, but I didn't book that one. I guess they were looking for Ken dolls to play the soccer players.
And it's about to get worse. OH, so much worse. By this time tomorrow, I'll have another self-image complex.
Because *this* Major-General Stanley ad is supposed to be competative swimmers feeling self-conscious about...yes...their teeny speedos.
So my question was do I go with the speedo that actually fits me, or do I go with the one two sizes too small.
This is my life.
I'll let you know what happens. And if the Vercace models throw me into a self-loathing dither.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Earth Needs More Kittens
It's happening again.
We all remember how last time it was a hoax.
And the time after that was a hoax too.
And, for all we know, this time may be a hoax as well.
But don't you think it's funny how jumpy everyone is? It's like we're expecting a real-life invasion of moon men from Outer Space to happen any day now. Does that tell us anything about the precarious times in which we live?
Maybe we're not so far away from the fallout-shelter fifties as we think...
Cue theremin.
Monday, June 23, 2008
Oh Noes!
It's happening again!
This time it was triggered by my seeing the closing performance of "Cry-Baby: the Musical" yesterday afternoon.
A show panned by critics, snubbed by the Tonys...
And guess what?
It was one of the most entertaining, fun shows I've seen since I moved here.
I KNOW!
It's so unfair! And now people will always remember it as being a bad show that they didn't actually see but heard was crappy.
And now it's over. It's dead. And I liked it so very very much. But I can't see it again. No matter how much I may want to. And they never even got to make a cast recording. So I can't even tell you to download such-and-such sone if you're still skeptical. No, it's gone. Without a trace.
It got me thinking about how unfair things are.
Well, maybe not unfair, but...nonsensical. That the success of a show and the jobs of dozens of people can depend entirely upon the opinion of one theatre/life-hating critic at the New York Times.
Then I took a look at some of the members of the cast. I knew one of the principals. And another one was a business major at (guess where?) Alma Mater U before selling his car and deciding to become an actor. And guess what? Both of them were leads in a really swell Broadway show.
Meanwhile, the rest of us are still trying to figure it all out.
Then I get to thinking, "Hey, I'm finally feeling secure enough in myself to ask a girl out."
But who wants a penniless ukulele plunking, video game obsessed nude artist's model?
I know I don't. I want someone who'll bring home the bacon.
But at the same time, I know that somewhere out there is a graceful, kind, lovely, well-spoken young woman who has a MARVELOUS and TOTALLY SURPRISING love for something like, oh, I dunno. Dungeons and Dragons. And she's not married (they're ALWAYS married) and has been waiting to meet me all her life.
Then you think about the rest of this lousy biz. If my nose were smaller. If my smile wasn't so gummy. If my hair were shorter. If my arms were larger. If my legs were shorter. If my arms were smaller.
That's the problem with these Broadway musical types. They make the rest of us "Shakespeare actors" feel SO untalented.
It's so rough. I mean.
Oh yeah, and if you missed the ukulele show, you can check out some clips on yoooo tooob. Marvel at the odd choices the editor of this little video made.
So check it.
I miss my cat. Cats are great. They don't have dreams. They just want to eat, sleep, and be pet. And they're very rarely disappointed.
I wish I were a feline.
This time it was triggered by my seeing the closing performance of "Cry-Baby: the Musical" yesterday afternoon.
A show panned by critics, snubbed by the Tonys...
And guess what?
It was one of the most entertaining, fun shows I've seen since I moved here.
I KNOW!
It's so unfair! And now people will always remember it as being a bad show that they didn't actually see but heard was crappy.
And now it's over. It's dead. And I liked it so very very much. But I can't see it again. No matter how much I may want to. And they never even got to make a cast recording. So I can't even tell you to download such-and-such sone if you're still skeptical. No, it's gone. Without a trace.
It got me thinking about how unfair things are.
Well, maybe not unfair, but...nonsensical. That the success of a show and the jobs of dozens of people can depend entirely upon the opinion of one theatre/life-hating critic at the New York Times.
Then I took a look at some of the members of the cast. I knew one of the principals. And another one was a business major at (guess where?) Alma Mater U before selling his car and deciding to become an actor. And guess what? Both of them were leads in a really swell Broadway show.
Meanwhile, the rest of us are still trying to figure it all out.
Then I get to thinking, "Hey, I'm finally feeling secure enough in myself to ask a girl out."
But who wants a penniless ukulele plunking, video game obsessed nude artist's model?
I know I don't. I want someone who'll bring home the bacon.
But at the same time, I know that somewhere out there is a graceful, kind, lovely, well-spoken young woman who has a MARVELOUS and TOTALLY SURPRISING love for something like, oh, I dunno. Dungeons and Dragons. And she's not married (they're ALWAYS married) and has been waiting to meet me all her life.
Then you think about the rest of this lousy biz. If my nose were smaller. If my smile wasn't so gummy. If my hair were shorter. If my arms were larger. If my legs were shorter. If my arms were smaller.
That's the problem with these Broadway musical types. They make the rest of us "Shakespeare actors" feel SO untalented.
It's so rough. I mean.
Oh yeah, and if you missed the ukulele show, you can check out some clips on yoooo tooob. Marvel at the odd choices the editor of this little video made.
So check it.
I miss my cat. Cats are great. They don't have dreams. They just want to eat, sleep, and be pet. And they're very rarely disappointed.
I wish I were a feline.
Friday, June 20, 2008
Teh n00bz
Okay y'all, can I just say something?
So I'm modeling for a four-week summer intensive at the same place where the sculpture competition was. I go in for three hours every morning and model for a bunch of n00bz who are all retired-types who decided 60 was the perfect age to start cultivating their artistic inclinations.
I'll be standing up there and the instructor will go from person to person offering advice and tips and such.
And the one thing that keeps coming up?
"The model moves."
"The model shifted slightly."
"The model isn't being completely statue-still."
I'm about ready to tell every one of these n00bz off.
"Maybe if y'all weren't so cheap or inexperienced or, as is the case with some of you, clearly socially maladjusted, you'd know that you're drawing a person, not a bowl of fruit. And the 'moving' you're referring to is called 'breathing'."
It's really pissing me off.
I mean it guys. These men and women are complete mo-rons.
The instructor says, "Okay, one more 20 minute set, then we'll take our 15 minute break."
We'll do the 20 minute set, the buzzer goes off, and *immediately* they all start asking each other--and me--"Is this the 15 minute break? I don't know. Is it? Is this the 15 minute break? I have no idea."
Or
Instructor: After this break we'll change to a new pose.
The break ends and...
"Are we doing a new pose? I don't know. I think it's the same one. No, I think it's new.
So. Ann. Oyed.
In other news, yesterday I was paid 100 smackerdoodles to sit in a pub and drink beer. I was an extra in some big-time print ad campaign for this Irish Ale. Maybe you'll see the back of my head. The client was there and she was *determined* to have us all leave *loving* the beer.
And finally, today I have to deal with the whole identity theft thing. Yes, forks. While I've always known people *want* to be me, I think this may be the first time anybody actually tried.
I'll let you know what happens.
So I'm modeling for a four-week summer intensive at the same place where the sculpture competition was. I go in for three hours every morning and model for a bunch of n00bz who are all retired-types who decided 60 was the perfect age to start cultivating their artistic inclinations.
I'll be standing up there and the instructor will go from person to person offering advice and tips and such.
And the one thing that keeps coming up?
"The model moves."
"The model shifted slightly."
"The model isn't being completely statue-still."
I'm about ready to tell every one of these n00bz off.
"Maybe if y'all weren't so cheap or inexperienced or, as is the case with some of you, clearly socially maladjusted, you'd know that you're drawing a person, not a bowl of fruit. And the 'moving' you're referring to is called 'breathing'."
It's really pissing me off.
I mean it guys. These men and women are complete mo-rons.
The instructor says, "Okay, one more 20 minute set, then we'll take our 15 minute break."
We'll do the 20 minute set, the buzzer goes off, and *immediately* they all start asking each other--and me--"Is this the 15 minute break? I don't know. Is it? Is this the 15 minute break? I have no idea."
Or
Instructor: After this break we'll change to a new pose.
The break ends and...
"Are we doing a new pose? I don't know. I think it's the same one. No, I think it's new.
So. Ann. Oyed.
In other news, yesterday I was paid 100 smackerdoodles to sit in a pub and drink beer. I was an extra in some big-time print ad campaign for this Irish Ale. Maybe you'll see the back of my head. The client was there and she was *determined* to have us all leave *loving* the beer.
And finally, today I have to deal with the whole identity theft thing. Yes, forks. While I've always known people *want* to be me, I think this may be the first time anybody actually tried.
I'll let you know what happens.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Raw Talent
Butt in the middle of my back: check
Arm that looks like a Chee-toe: check
Drawn in pink marker: Oh yes she did.
Monday, June 16, 2008
I Remember Now
I remember now why I avoid the Supercity X School for Aspiring Artists.
It's because of the Aspiring Artists.
Poor things. They're all so sour.
Oh well. Hey, I'm making 18 smackerdoodles an hour so I'm not complaining. And it's kind of fun to give these kids really complicated poses just to see what they come up with.
Case in point:
[Insert bad picture here]
I mean, come on guys. Look at that. She put my butt in the middle of my back and my arm looks like a Chee-toe. And she drew it in pink marker. Seriously. If you scratch it it probably smells like strawberry.
These kids parents are coughing up a zillion bucks to send their kids here. You'd think these lil Rembrandts would have to exhibit some sort of talent before their parents would hand them a sack of doubloons.
I mean, seriously. Majoring in theatre makes damn good sense when you look at the work these kiddos are cranking out.
It's because of the Aspiring Artists.
Poor things. They're all so sour.
Oh well. Hey, I'm making 18 smackerdoodles an hour so I'm not complaining. And it's kind of fun to give these kids really complicated poses just to see what they come up with.
Case in point:
[Insert bad picture here]
I mean, come on guys. Look at that. She put my butt in the middle of my back and my arm looks like a Chee-toe. And she drew it in pink marker. Seriously. If you scratch it it probably smells like strawberry.
These kids parents are coughing up a zillion bucks to send their kids here. You'd think these lil Rembrandts would have to exhibit some sort of talent before their parents would hand them a sack of doubloons.
I mean, seriously. Majoring in theatre makes damn good sense when you look at the work these kiddos are cranking out.
Friday, June 13, 2008
Forkulele Friday
The recent heat wave lifted a few days ago to reveal several days of glorious weather that were lying just beyond the thick blanket of haze that hung about the tips of the city's skyscrapers.
I was walking down the street, looking up at the sky...how clear it was. How blue. How marvelous it all was. A cool breeze blew down the street. Birds chirped. I starting singing this little ditty to myself. Soon the little ditty started coming softly over my smiling lips and out of my mouth.
When suddenly,
"Hey motherf-$%er! Learn to drive!"
"Oh yeah! F(@!# you!"
"Hey moron, you've got a horse and carriage behind you!"
"F$*() you too, a#$hole!"
"Yuh wanna F3)#$(@*ing make me?!"
That's when the WALK sign lit up.
And the song immediately resumed.
Welcome to summer in New York, folks!
I was walking down the street, looking up at the sky...how clear it was. How blue. How marvelous it all was. A cool breeze blew down the street. Birds chirped. I starting singing this little ditty to myself. Soon the little ditty started coming softly over my smiling lips and out of my mouth.
When suddenly,
"Hey motherf-$%er! Learn to drive!"
"Oh yeah! F(@!# you!"
"Hey moron, you've got a horse and carriage behind you!"
"F$*() you too, a#$hole!"
"Yuh wanna F3)#$(@*ing make me?!"
That's when the WALK sign lit up.
And the song immediately resumed.
Welcome to summer in New York, folks!
Click here to go there!
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
This Is New
Hace mucho calor.
That's Puerto Rican for, "Damn, it's hot outside."
It's so hot, in fact, that they closed the office where we do our video game testing.
No, I'm not kidding. I got a phone call saying that the office was closed due to the heat.
I've heard of closing things because of snow or heavy rain, earthquakes, heavy flooding, and volcanic eruptions, but never, no never have I ever had anything cancelled because it's too friggin' hot outside.
I had a migraine this morning so I didn't go in to "temp work".
But you can bet your 97 degree ass I'm naked right now!
Sorry. Old habits die hard. :^)
Monday, June 09, 2008
So...
I think I'm going to refrain from posting any more about the whole "temp work" thing up here. After giving it some thought, I've decided that it probably just makes people uncomfortable for me to talk about it. I may start a seperate blog where I can post occasional bits of information about gigs or whatever.
In other news, it's really freakin' hot here.
In other news, it's really freakin' hot here.
Friday, June 06, 2008
The Fifth Day
This is it. Pain-wise, it feels pretty much like yesterday.
Must...con-cen-trate...
I just don't know what's going to happen later. I'm so nervous.
Must...con-cen-trate...
I just don't know what's going to happen later. I'm so nervous.
Thursday, June 05, 2008
Day Four
This is Naked Chocolate reporting on behalf of Forkulele Fork of the 42nd Floor.
Nothing terribly terrible happened today. There *was* almost a crash though. In the last 20 minutes of the day, one of the artists tried to move the stand his sculpture was on...but the wheels on the back of his stand didn't want to move. So instead of moving forward, the stand began to tip over.
Just thinking of that happening chills me to the chocolate bone.
I'm really kind of upset right now. You have to understand, forks, of the twelve sculptures, I think only five of them will be "finished" by 6:00 tomorrow.
But that does NOT mean the others are crap. What it means is these artists don't usually produce completed works of classically sculpted beauty in 40 hours.
Case in point, poor Casey Jones. He's suffering from intense shoulder and back pain from these marathon sculpting sessions, and his sculpture isn't likely to be "finished" by tomorrow evening. But his body of work (like mine, har har) is *stunning*!!
So that's why I'm upset. I really believe in these guys. It's just not everyone can work as clay slashingly fast as Phil and Plato.
So those two are easily in the lead. HowEVER, newcomer Kiss Me Kate picked up some serious steam today. Hers is excellent. Just excellent. And you know what? The Harry Potter lady's isn't bad either! And neither is the Mormon's.
Wow. It's all so close. I simply can-NOT tell who's going to go home with the prizes.
I kind of don't want it to end. I'm so nervous for all of them.
Nothing terribly terrible happened today. There *was* almost a crash though. In the last 20 minutes of the day, one of the artists tried to move the stand his sculpture was on...but the wheels on the back of his stand didn't want to move. So instead of moving forward, the stand began to tip over.
Just thinking of that happening chills me to the chocolate bone.
I'm really kind of upset right now. You have to understand, forks, of the twelve sculptures, I think only five of them will be "finished" by 6:00 tomorrow.
But that does NOT mean the others are crap. What it means is these artists don't usually produce completed works of classically sculpted beauty in 40 hours.
Case in point, poor Casey Jones. He's suffering from intense shoulder and back pain from these marathon sculpting sessions, and his sculpture isn't likely to be "finished" by tomorrow evening. But his body of work (like mine, har har) is *stunning*!!
So that's why I'm upset. I really believe in these guys. It's just not everyone can work as clay slashingly fast as Phil and Plato.
So those two are easily in the lead. HowEVER, newcomer Kiss Me Kate picked up some serious steam today. Hers is excellent. Just excellent. And you know what? The Harry Potter lady's isn't bad either! And neither is the Mormon's.
Wow. It's all so close. I simply can-NOT tell who's going to go home with the prizes.
I kind of don't want it to end. I'm so nervous for all of them.
Wednesday, June 04, 2008
Day Three
The Frenchman and the Skinny Guy are neck and neck. Seriously. Everyone else is at about the same place. It's just these two are blasting waaay ahead of everybody else. I'll try to take pictures of theirs and post them. Kinda like the pictures I posted yesterday.
Oh wait.
The pain isn't quite as bad today. I'm leaning on the staff quite a bit more.
* * *
Wait. Strike that. I'm about to start yowling. It's anazing what a difference one set can make. My muscles have been firing all day and it's not like they're in pain or anything. They're just saying, "That's enough. We're done."
So I'm all quivery right now.
Ow. Shouldn't have put so much weight on the staff. Now my wrist hurts.
Hrrrr...two more days...
I have to give mad props to the Harry Potter lady though. She has embued my butt with a perkiness it most certainly does not possess in real life. And that makes me kind of happy. But somehow sad.
I'm so confused.
Oh wait.
The pain isn't quite as bad today. I'm leaning on the staff quite a bit more.
* * *
Wait. Strike that. I'm about to start yowling. It's anazing what a difference one set can make. My muscles have been firing all day and it's not like they're in pain or anything. They're just saying, "That's enough. We're done."
So I'm all quivery right now.
Ow. Shouldn't have put so much weight on the staff. Now my wrist hurts.
Hrrrr...two more days...
I have to give mad props to the Harry Potter lady though. She has embued my butt with a perkiness it most certainly does not possess in real life. And that makes me kind of happy. But somehow sad.
I'm so confused.
Tuesday, June 03, 2008
2nd Day
We're at about 3 out of 5 ouches on the Ouch-o-Meter. But man, the work going on is fantastic.
The French dude is still gunning for the win, although his sculpture is so smooth and perfect, it's lacking a bit in emotion. Meanwhile, the Harry Potter lady is lagging a bit behind. The art teacher from DC is pulling ahead today, as is the young guy with shoulder and back pain and also the skinny guy who wears only undershirts.
I took some pictures. I may tastefully censor some and post them here.
The French dude is still gunning for the win, although his sculpture is so smooth and perfect, it's lacking a bit in emotion. Meanwhile, the Harry Potter lady is lagging a bit behind. The art teacher from DC is pulling ahead today, as is the young guy with shoulder and back pain and also the skinny guy who wears only undershirts.
I took some pictures. I may tastefully censor some and post them here.
Monday, June 02, 2008
About to Begin
We're 20 minutes from beginning the sculpture competition. I've been getting ready for it by standing up while playing video games.
* * *
They're trying to figure out how they're going to spin me.
* * *
Okay. That's out of the way.
I think this pose is going to be a little bit more difficult than I initially thought. There's a twist. The twists are always killer.
* * *
Whoa...I'm not quite in agony yet...but I'm getting there...
Still...some of these sculptures are already astounding. Some woman who worked on the Harry Potter movies is totally kicking bootay. But the French guy is totally in it to win it.
But let's not rule out the jumpy Korean and the teacher from DC! They're fantastic too!
* * *
We're beginning the final hour of the day. Surprisingly, the only thing that really hurts is my middle back on the right side.
The funny thing about this is that, as they turn you on this dias, the sculptors you're facing naturally switch to working on the front of their sculptures.
That means I've spent this whole day looking at my sweet, sweet ass.
* * *
They're trying to figure out how they're going to spin me.
* * *
Okay. That's out of the way.
I think this pose is going to be a little bit more difficult than I initially thought. There's a twist. The twists are always killer.
* * *
Whoa...I'm not quite in agony yet...but I'm getting there...
Still...some of these sculptures are already astounding. Some woman who worked on the Harry Potter movies is totally kicking bootay. But the French guy is totally in it to win it.
But let's not rule out the jumpy Korean and the teacher from DC! They're fantastic too!
* * *
We're beginning the final hour of the day. Surprisingly, the only thing that really hurts is my middle back on the right side.
The funny thing about this is that, as they turn you on this dias, the sculptors you're facing naturally switch to working on the front of their sculptures.
That means I've spent this whole day looking at my sweet, sweet ass.
Sunday, June 01, 2008
As Promised...
It's FAR from practically perfect in every way, but I'm a man of my word. I said you'd get a new song this weekend and here it is. "Anything Can Happen" from the B'way production of Mary Poppins. There are problems with it, I know--that return from the bridge is just bizarre (what WAS I thinking??). But I was all out of time and finally had to say, "Good enough" and send it to myspace.
This is gonna sound really sentimental, but, well, this song is rather dear to me. Ever since I first heard it about a year ago, it's sort of become one of those "cheer up" songs when I feel as though it's time to throw in the towel. In fact, for you Forkulele trivia hounds out there, I arranged this for the uke in the evenings during my recent trip to Cackalackee--the ultimate "You are SO done" trip.
So in spite of one or two spots that didn't come out quite CD-quality, I hope you all enjoy it. Who knows, maybe you'll add it to your "cheer up" playlist too.
This is gonna sound really sentimental, but, well, this song is rather dear to me. Ever since I first heard it about a year ago, it's sort of become one of those "cheer up" songs when I feel as though it's time to throw in the towel. In fact, for you Forkulele trivia hounds out there, I arranged this for the uke in the evenings during my recent trip to Cackalackee--the ultimate "You are SO done" trip.
So in spite of one or two spots that didn't come out quite CD-quality, I hope you all enjoy it. Who knows, maybe you'll add it to your "cheer up" playlist too.
Click here to go there!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)