I have tech tonight for the show. Tech is notoriously excruciating. Sitting there. While people focus lights and figure out sound cues. As my grandfather used to say, it's for the birds. To make it interesting, I'll do it naked. Or on fire. Or both.
A bit of dialogue that occurred to me while eating hot dogs at Grays Papaya yesterday:
MAN 1: Do you know the origin of the hot dog, Jack?
MAN 2: No.
MAN 1: Heaven, Jack. The answer is heaven.
I found out today that one of the people I work with is a lawyer. This fact surprised me a great deal because I always thought of him as an incompetent fuckface. Speaking of fuckface, I'm reminded of names my dad used to call me (bear in mind he was never very clever):
1. Fuckface
2. Boner
3. Asshole
4. Shithead
5. No Common Sense
6. Gabriel Don (during his clean phase or when I had done something wrong)
7. Dingleberry
8. Dickhead
9. My son (when he thought he was being pious. Though, he doesn't know what the word pious means)
None of these names were ever said in anger, oddly enough. Not that it mattered. I always took comfort in the fact that I was smarter than he could ever be. And, that he isn't really my father. Still, they were a crude man's lexicon of love and affection.
My favorite and telling ongoing exchange he had was with his brother (my uncle):
UNCLE: What's up?
DAD: My dick! Wanna suck it?!
Good times. Good times.
4 comments:
Ugh. Dingleberry. Didn't he used to wear dresses, your dad?
Coincidently, I also started tech today. Of course, being the technical director, I actually have to work. Reading your post during the 10 minute break I'm taking after 6 straight hours of non-stop "focusing lights and figuring out sound cues" makes me hate your pussy actor ass even more.
Stop whining, daddy's boy.
Jonesy, I happen to be a delicate flower. And a girl.
I eat delicate flowers for breakfast.
And girls for lunch.
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