Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Sans Dick Sucking
I don’t know how I ever got a job before porn. It couldn’t have been my “can do” eager to please attitude. I can’t verbally suck dick. Physically? Yes I can do that. But I don’t suck dick for jobs. I suck dick as a job. But not the hiring manager’s dick. I prefer stunt cock. I’m off subject.
The point is I can’t kiss ass or blow things out of proportion. I can’t make a big deal out of my dexterity on a ten key calculator. I can’t turn past experience chasing bums off of storefronts into “oversaw promotion of positive company image” or first position on the burger line into “head chef”. I showed up to a job interview in pajamas once. I still got the job sans dick sucking. And no, it was not a porn interview.
So here’s where this is all coming from: I put an ad up on Craigslist for an assistant. 10-15 hours a week, simple stuff, must have own transportation and be comfortable in an adult themed industry. References required. I’ve had literally hundreds of emails. 90% include attached resumes. One person really did list the ability to use a ten key calculator. One person really did claim to be detail oriented and thorough, spelled thuro. Most of them started out with dear hiring manager, dear sir or madam, to whom it may concern: …
Or it was just a blank email with the resume attached. I deleted all of them. If there was a spelling error, if it was too impersonal, or too formal for porn, it didn’t stand a chance.
I was left with a spattering of resumes that seemed to be on target. I interviewed 5 people tonight. I looked for applicants who had personality and could get things done correctly without any instruction from me. And they can all spell correctly, just because it’s a pet peeve of mine. I didn’t make it easy so I figured if they showed up on time to the right place with resume in hand and not dressed like they had a stick up their ass we’d be good to go. 3 did, 2 were late, 2 didn’t show up. I’d weeded them out pretty quickly. I ended up with 4 aspiring actors/actresses and 1 aspiring musician. The two who were late are out of the running, not only because they weren’t on top of it enough to figure it out for themselves but one showed up with a resume folded eight directions and it just seemed off. I can’t imagine he really has his life together and the thought of charging him with the task of getting mine together is scary.
So now that I’m down to three, and they are all wonderful and prompt and smart and don’t need to be babysat and have all the necessary skills and experience and I don’t know what to do because I want them all. They each have one unique obvious strength. If combined they’d be superhumans. They’re all willing to accept the same pay. They’re all equally cool. I’m stuck.
So I did some research. It’s too late to do the reference checks but I looked up myspace and facebook profiles and still nothing concrete enough to whittle it down further. I’m dealing with three skilled, flexible, down to earth people. And all I can think about is what I could possibly have had on the other applicants when I got a job in pajamas.
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Friday, November 21, 2008
Just Say No.
I’m at Starbucks and I just finished my second Espresso Truffle of the day and I’m struggling to keep my eyes open. Maybe it was because I stayed up until 4am fucking yesterday. Or maybe it’s because I was on set for 20 hours the day before. Or maybe it’s because I only got 3.5 hours of sleep before showing up to set. And I can’t remember much beyond that. The airplanes and time changes are throwing me off.
Or maybe it’s because I have a Starbuck’s addiction and I’m crashing after my caffeine bump. But I don’t recall getting the initial energy rush part of it. Its so advanced that I can’t even perk up off an Espresso Truffle. Maybe I should order larger ones. Anything with the word “truffle” in it sounds fattening so I’m ordering talls. Multiple talls.
I just checked my email. First thing in the box was the info for tomorrow’s shoot and I feel a vague sense of doom. It said to get a lot of sleep because it’s going to be a long day. This is coming from the same guy who called the 20 hour day normal. It’s a night shoot. I have a feeling I’ll be seeing the sun rise.
But the immediate thing to focus on is mustering the energy for tonight. It’s a Penthouse party. It’s my first time going to one of their events as one of their pets. Game face. I think game face might require more Starbucks but I don’t want more Starbucks. I don’t want the girl to look at me funny and say ‘another one?’ with that accusatory eyebrow thing she does. I might have to defend myself. I might go off about how at least when she goes home work is over. And a big day for her is eight hours. I laugh in the face of eight hours. I scoff.
Maybe there will be a shift change soon. Then they won’t know it’s my third one but they’ll still know I’ve had at least one already because I’m sitting here guiltily typing away on my computer with the empty cup next to me sneaking furtive glances at the cash register in intervals that are far too close together. They probably think I’m waiting to rob the place. Maybe if I make eye contact and smile they’ll know I’m harmless. Or they’ll think I’m coming onto them. Real human interaction baffles me lately. Thank Myspace and Facebook for that.
I’m gonna go the willpower route and pack up and walk out of here. I’m gonna walk tall. They’ll never know what obstacle I just overcame but I’ll know and that’s all that matters.
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Tuesday, November 18, 2008
dilemmas
Conte has me wrapped around his hoof. I’m a sucker for that boy. I don’t know what to do.
Here’s the dilemma: I’m not in town enough for a horse right now. It’s not fair. He’s in a 12x12 box stall all day and he sees his manny more than he sees me. Every time I go more than a week without seeing him I begin to think I could probably handle selling him but then I come home and I spend an hour just brushing his hair or something trivial and I think he’s the love of my life again.
When I got back this last time his manny had put him in a different stall. I was pissed. I fought for the stall he had because it has the best view. I don’t want him to be bored. I guess he learned how to get out of that stall though so he’s been moved to the maximum security aisle. How does a horse get out of a stall you might wonder? He broke the door down.
I’m thinking of moving him to a different boarding ranch so I can at least get him a bigger stall. Then I think of moving him farther away so he can be out in a pasture. Then I freak out because the places that have pasture available are the same places that always catch on fire when I’m out of town. Last year when the big fires were burning in San Diego I spent three of those days driving around looking for Intrigue because I was just getting back into town at the same time they were evacuating. I finally found him, unmarked, at a ranch that didn’t even know they had him. Then I spent another week waiting for some stranger to return my horse trailer. I understand borrowing it in emergency circumstances but a courtesy call at any point to let me know it was safe and sound would have been nice. Same with Intrigue.
So I’m stuck. I can’t lease him out for liability reasons. He’s not a well trained pony. He’s a green broke stud. I do have big plans that involve moving out of state but I’m not quite in a place where I can do that yet. It will probably be at least another year. When I do though I can guarantee it will be to a property that has acreage.
…and then there’s Poopstain. He’s developed an unsavory habit of climbing up above my fireplace and throwing his cat weight on my head when I sleep. I have claw marks on my neck and face right now. And while I was taking a shower today he just hung from the shower curtain and swung back and forth, watching me and thinking strange devious cat thoughts. I think the best solution for him would be to get him a kitten friend. But then I wonder if my subconscious is just finding excuses to bring home new animals. But is that really so bad?
Poopstain caught his first mouse yesterday. I’ve been letting him outside when I’m home and can keep an eye on him in the backyard so it wasn’t entirely a surprise when he drug the poor thing in. He doesn’t want to eat it though. He wants to cuddle it between throwing it in the air and catching it again. I think it died from shock because there is not a single drop of blood anywhere on its limp little body. I know this because he threw it at me and then waited expectantly. I don’t play fetch with rodents.
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Friday, November 14, 2008
Role Models
We just left the movie theaters and now we’re back on the road, following signs toward Boston and cursing the weather. I finally went to the gym today. I always pack gym clothes just in case before I leave town but I rarely manage to use them. I’m proud that on one out of the last four trips they actually made it out of the suitcase.
From the gym we went to the theaters and saw “Role Models.” I give it five stars, two thumbs up. I was great. I wasn’t the one who picked the movie though. I don’t watch TV so I never even know what’s out. It’s amazing how out of touch you can get with the world if you turn that thing off. The trip coordinator suggested it and I knew nothing about it either way and it seemed like a reasonable enough way to kill time until the signing.
Once we sat down I became much more familiar with the movie in question. It was originally called “Big Brother” starring Sean William Scott. How do I know this? I read for one of the parts. I went back to Universal Studios three times and they had it narrowed down to the last couple of girls and I was one of them. It was a small role. My line? “Fuck me minotaur man.” Right after he finished singing karaoke the girl was supposed to make small talk with him. She was supposed to be shy and unassuming. Then the next thing you know she’s a freak in the sack and he can barely keep up with her. Obviously they didn’t end up casting me for the part. It was all in vain though because they ended up cutting the whole thing anyways. I wonder if the girl who did get it just couldn’t pull it off. I doubt I would have been better.
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Sunday, November 9, 2008
Ninjas and Samurai Swords
It’s Sunday. I feel like I haven’t taken a breath since Thursday. I drove out to Indio Thursday night with Holly Randall and my web master and a make up artist for a shoot we had planned all day Friday at the Salton Sea. We got in around Midnight after a real road trip filled with a taco bell run, a tiny bit of navigation error, and gut spilling. I feel like I know the webman better. I have material to tease him with for years to come. I feel empowered.
We checked into the hotel and I settled down to write an article I had promised then passed out. The alarm went off at 5:30 am and I was in the make up chair at 6. Then we jumped on the road for another 40 minutes. We ran into a small grid of trailers that didn’t constitute a town because there was no gas station. Actually, there were no businesses at all save a bar/mini mart and possibly an automotive repair in someone’s front yard. The place was deserted at 8:30 in the morning. We figured they were all asleep. When we couldn’t find the exact deserted spot we were looking for Holly turned back to the bar/mini mart to ask for directions. The bar was packed. I think I can safely report that the entire town was in that bar at 9am. They were quite friendly though and pointed us in the right direction. Sweet.
So our little caravan pulled up to the shore, my giant truck and her Volvo. At one point in time the sea rose up and flooded the old trailer park grid and what was left was gray and sagging and made of plywood. The salt crunched underneath us as we walked between abandoned homes and over fish bones. Everything was the same color except the sky which seemed vividly blue in comparison. There was no life anywhere. Except the ninja. There was a ninja practicing on the shore about a quarter mile down. He was spinning a large stick and wearing all black. My webmaster said he was quite good. My webmaster would know. He had brought a samurai sword for protection. I didn’t think anyone would believe this part so I got it all on BTS.
The first set was gorgeous. I wore a bright blue dress to match the sky and posed in front a water damaged chair in a roofless house and a broken out window. I wore trailer make up. Artsy. At one point some park troopers rolled through and asked Holly what she was doing. She was a student at Brooke’s University. This was her semester project. He said next time get a permit but as long as there was no nudity or money being made he’d let it slide this time. No sir. No nudity or profit here. He left. I know what you’re thinking: this is a national park? Yup. Protected by your tax dollars.
After the first set we drove off in search of another secluded beach. We found one down a nameless road and got more artsy grunge inside an old public restroom that had also been abandoned after it was flooded out. I was impressed with Holly’s range. I’ve only ever seen her shoot in a controlled studio doing the same controlled poses that are optimal for bright clear views of the cookie. She put me in black leather boots and fetish make up in the men’s bathroom. There were holes in the plywood and if you stared straight through the toilet seats you could see your own reflection in the communal sewage well at the bottom. She made it beautiful. This beach was in a different phase than I’m used to seeing. The sand wasn’t fine granules that make you want to build castles and bury your feet. It was broken down bones with whole spines or smaller individual vertebrae that crunched beneath our feet as we tried to step around whole preserved fish that had been perfectly dried in the sun and salt. It stank. We did another set in front of rotting telephone poles sticking out of the water at dusk and a final set on a concrete slab that had collapsed years ago at the shore as the last rays of light disappeared behind the mountains. My webmaster was upset that we didn’t get to shoot with his samurai sword.
Then we packed up in the dark and realized that Holly’s Volvo did not have 4-wheel drive. She was stuck in the bone-sand. My truck moved out with no problem but I didn’t have any way of pulling her out. She tried to get a tow service out but the road had no name and we didn’t know how to direct them to where we were so I drove her back the main road and entered a border patrol station from the wrong direction and they freaked out and yelled at me but helped us anyway. We drove back and ate Fig Newton’s and waited a couple of hours for the tow truck. We bonded some more. The tow truck finally showed up and I laughed. It was an F150. I had an F250 4x4. The difference was he had chains to attach to her car. He charged $300.
I got back late. My alarm went off earlier than I would have liked because I had a signing in Riverside for Adam and Eve. Traffic sucked. It was technically two signings. I got home after Midnight.
So today I get to relax. My call time tomorrow is 4:30am in Hollywood for a commercial I’m doing. I have to show up with red fingernails and expect not to be done before 8pm. My call time the next day is 7am in the desert for “The 8th day”, which means I’ll probably drive up Monday night and stay in a hotel. Then Wednesday morning the flight leaves at 7 am to take us on a four day signing tour in the northeast. I’ll fly home Sunday and Monday I’ll be back on set. I truly cherish today.
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Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Election Day
I was up late last night so I got to see the very beginning of today's election as booths were opening on the East Coast and CNN was covering it. The only other time I've felt I was experiencing history like this was on Sept. 11th as I watched metal and cement crumble and smoke like a Hollywood special effect. It didn't seem real. Today feels real. It's been pretty obvious that Obama had it for the last few weeks but today it was confirmed and when I logged onto the internet the top news story said "First African American President."
Me? I didn't vote for him. Between him and McCain he's my first choice though. I was a fence sitter and Palin scared the shit out of me and McCain changed for the worse and Obama for the better as the campaigns drug on. I respect a man who adjusts his positions as he gains more knowledge or circumstances shift. He went from promising to get soldiers out immediately to getting them out when the time is right. I've never understood why the media demonizes flip-floppers. I want someone who changes as the issues change. It's vital to making informed choices. He didn't freak out and slam everything to a halt when the stock market lurched. I like that too.
I don't like his fiscal policies. I don't think taking more money from tax payers is ever the correct decision. I think we spend the money we work our asses off for better than the men in suits who didn't have to lift a finger for it. I think we're just as likely to put it back into the economy as the government is. We're American after all. We spend.
I do like that the world likes him. I think that will work miracles in foreign relations. It doesn't matter what you're saying if the country in question has a negative perception of you. I think Palin would have become an even larger caricature than Tina Fey already created and the administration would be the same laughingstock it is right now. We don't need mavericks we need reason.
McCain didn't show reason at all. Picking a running mate because she has a vagina is selfish and impractical, especially considering how high the liklihood is that she would have actually had to step in for him. Especially picking an unknown vagina. He met her only two times before choosing her as his running mate. That tells me a lot about the decisions I don't want that man making for me or my country. Furthermore, he went against his principles by choosing her in the first place. He hates what she stands for and so did a whopping majority of the independent voters whose ear he initially had.
Anyway I guess we'll see what happens. I don't think either candidate was ideal but I do agree that Obama was closer to it. Obama as an individual I have a lot of respect for. He overcame huge odds to get this job. Now let's hope he's cut out for it.
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Sunday, November 2, 2008
Make Up
I’ve learned that I hate heavy make up. I don’t like feeling like I can’t touch my face or seeing color before I see features when I look in the mirror. It’s cool for pictures, but so are uncomfortable positions and improbable outfits. In person it’s a bit much.
Lately I’ve been on a light make up trend. I’m requesting it on set and resorting to lip gloss and tinted lotion at home. It’s given me a glimpse of how guys live: you get out of the shower, you dry off, you put on clothes, and you go. It’s nice.
But tonight I screwed up. It’s been awhile since I put on fake lashes and it seems as if I’ve forgotten how. I tried to cover up one mistake with another and it turned into one very bad downward spiral to which I can promise there would have been no end had the club manager not shown up to take me to the feature. Obviously I had to time to wash it off and start over as I have done many many times in the past. So now I’m staring in the mirror and considering just going sans make up completely but it’s a dark club and it actually works with the black eye liner. Go figure.
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Saturday, November 1, 2008
Halloween Costumes
Well I’m sitting in the basement/feature room catching up on blogs and avoiding the dressing room because they made me judge the stripper Halloween costume contest and the ones who lost are not speaking to me. The ones who won are. You win some you lose some. Ha.
There was one blond stripper-cop who was super friendly all night. Annoyingly friendly. Pushy. She tried to make me lace up her outfit as they were calling me on stage. Then during the costume contest she tried to rape me until she didn’t win and hasn’t made eye contact since. I feel used. It was a battle of wills though. Even if she’d had the best costume I wouldn’t have given her the award because I don’t like being seduced by people who don’t want to fuck me. It feels like trickery and if I were a man in this club I would scream. I gave first to Little Bo Peep. She really went all out.
I also judged the customer costume contest. The man with the foil hat and end of days sign won hands down. His back said “ask me about fiat currency” with a bible verse written on the side. It doesn’t get much better than that. Speaking of good costumes, there wasn’t much to do today so my roadie and the club manager and I roamed the mall. It was mall-o-ween. The sign at the entrance said so. We determined that the best time to have a toddler is Halloween. There was one dressed as a skunk. His little skunk tail was taller than he was. There was a baby Nemo. There was a two year old pooh bear. And free candy everywhere. So not only were they as cute as they will ever be right then but they were all in extremely good moods. I pity the parents who get to deal with the sugar highs later.
Side note: my dog is Tigger this year.
And I’m a feature. So I don’t get to drink myself stupid in a slutty costume with bad lipstick somewhere in Hollywood but I can do it here in Albany minus the liquor abuse and subsequent hangover. That’s what they pay me for. I have to make a choice in the next fifteen minutes. I can be a nurse or a pirate or a French maid or a school girl or a flapper girl or a baseball player or a foot soldier or a sailor or batgirl. This is the last show of the night and the place died down after the contests so I don’t think it will matter too much what I choose. I just need to keep myself busy until the night is over so I can keep my mind off the random candy ready and waiting in quiet determination.
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Dog Days
Sans Dick Sucking
Just Say No.
dilemmas
Role Models
Ninjas and Samurai Swords
Election Day
Make Up
Halloween Costumes
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