Tuesday, July 19, 2005
Of Fucking Course
Fucking Shit.
Fucking fuck shit. And also, fuck. Shit.
I can’t believe it.
So not only am I totally psyched to be in the promo commercial tomorrow for Fox, I’m also fucking furious at myself for going to get my haircut the day before the shoot! I specifically told the bitch to leave my hair long, since I KNEW that she would fuck it up and there would be nothing that I could do. Well, after receiving her specific instructions, she began to hack the motherfuck away at my head. And now I sit here with hair so short, it would take a miracle to even get a glob of gel in it.
I mean, sure. My face looks wicked adorable. But my hair is non-existent. It’s fucking GONE. And now I’m damn pissed. Damn damn fucking shit damn pissed!
Last night I spoke to the girl who is organizing the shoot. I was instructed to wear jeans and a t-shirt since the role I will be playing in the commercial is “Man on Bike”. Fine. I mean, I haven’t ridden a bike in years, but as they say…
Anywhiz…I talked to her again about a half hour ago and I was instructed to bring a business outfit since I will now be playing two roles. THEN, I got a call 15 minutes ago telling me to bring construction boots since I will also be playing a construction worker.
UM.
Fucking what?
Yes, I know I’m quite studly of a man and all, but there is no way that I’m going to be able to pull off “construction worker”. I mean, I’m all of 5”8 and 165#. And I don’t have wife beaters, tattoos nor do I spit tobacco. What am I? The gayest construction worker ever? Oh God.
Tomorrow I will be playing a bald man on bike, a bald business man, and a bald, gay construction worker. And this is my biggest resume builder to date folks! To date!
Alright…anyway…
I had an absolutely amazing time with my brother this weekend. He was originally supposed to fly in on Sunday night, but his flight got cancelled, so he rolled into town early Saturday morning. We immediately began playing cards and talking and laughing until Monday morning when I got on the train and came back to the city. It was everything I could have hoped for and more. I can’t believe that he LIVES in the States now and that I can see him as much or as little as I want.
IMAGINE?
I’m like…Welcome home Winfield! I know you’ve been gone for 4 years, but can you please try to call me no more than once a month? Thanks. Fuck off now.
And now I’m back working at my job, snoring myself to absolute death and wishing that I didn’t cut all of my hair off the day before I got my ass on TV. Whatever.
At this point, there is nothing else to say, but whatever and also, whatever.
I’m hot, I’m cool, and I will make one hell of a business man, on bike, riding to his constuction worker job.
Fucking Shit.
Fucking fuck shit. And also, fuck. Shit.
I can’t believe it.
So not only am I totally psyched to be in the promo commercial tomorrow for Fox, I’m also fucking furious at myself for going to get my haircut the day before the shoot! I specifically told the bitch to leave my hair long, since I KNEW that she would fuck it up and there would be nothing that I could do. Well, after receiving her specific instructions, she began to hack the motherfuck away at my head. And now I sit here with hair so short, it would take a miracle to even get a glob of gel in it.
I mean, sure. My face looks wicked adorable. But my hair is non-existent. It’s fucking GONE. And now I’m damn pissed. Damn damn fucking shit damn pissed!
Last night I spoke to the girl who is organizing the shoot. I was instructed to wear jeans and a t-shirt since the role I will be playing in the commercial is “Man on Bike”. Fine. I mean, I haven’t ridden a bike in years, but as they say…
Anywhiz…I talked to her again about a half hour ago and I was instructed to bring a business outfit since I will now be playing two roles. THEN, I got a call 15 minutes ago telling me to bring construction boots since I will also be playing a construction worker.
UM.
Fucking what?
Yes, I know I’m quite studly of a man and all, but there is no way that I’m going to be able to pull off “construction worker”. I mean, I’m all of 5”8 and 165#. And I don’t have wife beaters, tattoos nor do I spit tobacco. What am I? The gayest construction worker ever? Oh God.
Tomorrow I will be playing a bald man on bike, a bald business man, and a bald, gay construction worker. And this is my biggest resume builder to date folks! To date!
Alright…anyway…
I had an absolutely amazing time with my brother this weekend. He was originally supposed to fly in on Sunday night, but his flight got cancelled, so he rolled into town early Saturday morning. We immediately began playing cards and talking and laughing until Monday morning when I got on the train and came back to the city. It was everything I could have hoped for and more. I can’t believe that he LIVES in the States now and that I can see him as much or as little as I want.
IMAGINE?
I’m like…Welcome home Winfield! I know you’ve been gone for 4 years, but can you please try to call me no more than once a month? Thanks. Fuck off now.
And now I’m back working at my job, snoring myself to absolute death and wishing that I didn’t cut all of my hair off the day before I got my ass on TV. Whatever.
At this point, there is nothing else to say, but whatever and also, whatever.
I’m hot, I’m cool, and I will make one hell of a business man, on bike, riding to his constuction worker job.
