Vanessa Carlton is the poor man's Michelle Branch

There's only one way to settle this confusion. Wrestling match. At my apartment. I'll be the mat.


This weekend I'm shooting what will turn out to be the last episode of my short series. I've learned a lot about making these picture stories. It's a hard business to make sure what is in your head makes it to paper, and then to film (or tape). So many variables. Can't say I've been thrilled with the end results on all the episodes, but that's no one's fault but my own. There are moments I see when I think I'm finally getting the hang of this. Then there are the moments that just don't work at all, no matter how much I try to force it in editing. Biggest lesson learned - if you can't pay anybody, stick with small casts.

Been very busy this month. Just finished the script (as finished as it's gonna be) two days ago. We shoot tomorrow. I hope we go out with a bang. Or at least a joke that doesn't bomb.

Foxy Brown is the poor man's Lil Kim

This is according to a woman who runs a little boutique store a few blocks away. The Poor Woman and I were getting gifts for a few nieces while the proprietess was telling us that Lil Kim was just in her store, and she was so nice. Not at all like Foxy Brown, who was very, very, very rude. Then she said "Foxy Brown is banned from this store."

And that became the title of my as-yet-released hit record. Thanks to another conversation later that evening, the name of my as-yet-assembled band is going to be "Italian Dick Tease."


I booked the other commercial too. Going to Dallas next week to shoot it. I'll look for some TX PMV entries while I'm there.

Nothing new

Six years ago today, I was temping in an office, blocks from what is now a big construction project/hole in the ground/gravesite. While I was not close enough to be hurt, I was close enough to feel trapped. I was close enough to feel the impact of the second plane before I heard it, turn to the right and see it fall. I was close enough to mechanically walk home through ash and darkness. I was close enough.

Today, I shot a silly commercial.

Anyone who tells you this world isn't an absurd place is trying to sell you something.

Odds and other odds

Tom Conti - don't know who is his poor man's (more likely, rich man's) mate.


Art LaFleur - this has been puzzling me since day one of PMV. Anyone got any ideas?


M. Emmet Walsh - I met Mr. Walsh once when he came to my college. He was in town shooting the mega-hit White Sands, and he spoke to my theater management class. Swell fella. Knew the head of our department. Mr. Walsh is seen here with a gentleman whom I had the pleasure of working with for all of about 11 hours. Looking at this picture, I believe Mr. Carradine stumbled onto this set not realizing there was a film crew making a movie, as he is in his street clothes.


Sam Jackson, as he was known then, also spoke at another gathering at our college. Nicest guy in the world. Spoke to about 50 students in a small, dark room on a lazy, Spring late afternoon. In just two years he'd rack up another 100 movie credits and go on to kick cinematic ass as Bible quoting, Burger-name pondering Jules. A lot of films passed through our school/town while I was there. I also met Billy Crystal (filming City Slickers). He's not a tall man. Nice, but tiny. But of all the celebrities I ever met there, this guy was the most awesome.

They broke the mold after Cesar Romero. I met him at a dedication ceremony on campus. Our gym had been converted into a soundstage, thanks in part to our college's lovely benefactor, Greer Garson. Mr. Romero was one of the guests at the opening night ceremony dedicating it to Ms. Garson (too ill to attend). Anyway, I was in a show that was part of the entertainment that night, and got to hob with the nobs after we were through. On display was a new Oscar for Best Actress, 1941 to Ms. Garson for her title role in Mrs. Miniver. We (the entertainment) were all asked to pick it up and pose with it. Oscars are not as light as you think they are. Anyway, Mr. Romero came over and spoke with about 3 of us for a couple of minutes. Shook our hands (very firm grip) and thanked us for starting off the evening with a bang. He told a few stories to our star-struck faces (all of which I have forgotten) and vanished into the crowd...which included Tab Hunter and David Huddleston. Knowing my fascination for all things character actor, you can also imagine my glee at being in the same room with Mr. Huddleston.


Just found out I booked one of the commercials I was on hold for. Fingers crossed for the other one. Daddy needs a new pair of shoes.


The Mrs. and I just wrapped up Season 3 of Deadwood.

Richardson agrees. Two thumbs WAY UP.

Chris Cooper is the poor man's William H Macy

As I say every time I post one of these too-close-to-call entries, I think both of these guys are the balls.

That's what the kids say, "balls," right?

Anyway, I'm actually in a whirlwind of commercial activity right now. Lots of callbacks, but haven't booked anything yet. I was on hold for 4 different, juicy spots, which would've made for a nice Christmas. As of this moment, I'm only on hold for two jobs...which would make for a decent Halloween. Lots of time spent going to said auditions/callbacks, so it's starting to feel more like a real job than a real job.

Which feels fan-fuckting-tastic.

Also getting paid to write. That's correct. Me. Writing. For money. Two different projects. Exchanging currency for my thought farts. By people who must not read this blog.

Laslty, my 5-min episdoic is now going on to episode 4. I think this will be it, as it's getting too hard to produce, and I've got too much on my plate.

Thanks for sticking around this long.

Dylan Baker gets the scripts that Cooper and Macy have to pass up. Dylan Baker is also the balls.

"What I Like About You" is the poor man's "My Sharona"

Kinda like Fruity Pebbles just ain't quite Cocoa Pebbles.