I Love Plumbers

With Christmas out the way, we can focus on New Year's Eve. Thankfully my pipes are clean again. And no, that is not a metaphor. In the spirit of grubbinness, I offer you the following little video which I only discovered a little while ago. It's a car commercial I shot in Slovenia a few years ago, in which I play some dark and dirty character. Never really fancied myself as a goth, but the director evidently did. Good for a chuckle. As was my first attempt at snowboarding last week. But that's another post...

Merry Merry

After spending the day out and about on Christmas Eve, thanks in part to the water being turned off, I returned home after a splendid late lunch of Shepherd's pie and baked beans (with HP sauce of course), followed by rhubarb pie with custard. As I entered the apartment, I was hit by a stink. A rotting kind of stink. Following my nose (an easy thing to do) I discovered that my bathroom was flooded and my bath was full of dark brown water. Since I had left the taps turned off, the foul smelling fluid had come up from the pipes below. Delish!

After an hour trying to empty the bath and unblock it, I realised it was futile. The blockage is severe and using any water in the basin only bubbles up to fill the bath as well. But I didn't call a plumber on Christmas Eve, nor will I today, when they'll no doubt charge a (more) exhorbitant sum, which the absent manager will undoubtedly refuse to pay.

NOTE: Had to stop writing this entry to start bailing water again, as my upstairs neighbor was having a shower and my bath started filling up! No doubt I will have to do the same when the neghbor 2 floors up has HIS shower.

The moral of today's story, is be thankful you're not near me. Cos I stink. Have a wonderful day, whatever you do. And may the New year bring love, laughter, passion and reward!

Whoa - gotta go. My bath is filling up again - I kid you not. Now I need to decide whether or not to risk going out to Christmas lunch and have my place flooded. Grrr. At least the water's warm...

Why We Suck

After my ongoing theme of doppelgangers, how better to round things up than with a face-to-face with Denis Leary (aka Doppelganger #1). I saw that the man had a signing for his new book, Why We Suck, not far from me. The only challenge was getting there. I had to take my Dad to the airport after a splendid little stay with me - and could hardly let family take a taxi in order for me to spend 30 seconds with someone who looks a little like me. That's just weird. Oh yeah - and heartless.

So I took Dad to the airport, saw him through check-in and waved him off towards an invigorating cavity search (or whatever LAX security has in store these days) and only then raced off to the signing. Luck was on my side, traffic was thin and I arrived with time to buy a copy and rush upstairs to stand in line. Phew.

I had visions of Denis seeing me and going "Jesus, it's like staring into a mirror! I simply MUST put you in an episode of Rescue Me as my long lost, shorter, younger brother! Please tell me you're an actor - you ARE an actor, right? Wait, who's your agent...?"

In reality, it was more like "And this is to you?" He gestures to the book. I confirm it is, indeed, for me. I manage to cough up, in a thin whispery voice (what the hell?!) that not a day goes by I don't get told I look like him. "Ah," he says. (clearly he doesn't see the resemblance) "Well there's a picture in the book of me and Willem Dafoe". I laugh. The nice lady takes my picture and I leave, grinning like a child.

Good to meet the man. Seems like a nice guy. I am sure the book is not. Nice. With a cover blurb that runs "A feel good guide to staying fat, loud, lazy and stupid" you know he's not gonna pull any punches. It looks like a good bitch about people who bitch about things and blame others when they really need to stfu and change themselves. Just my cup of tea!

So what if I don't have a recurring role on the new season of Rescue Me. I got my face-to-face and that's what counts. I do feel a little bad that I had no time to explain that I was a little clammy cos I'd rushed like a loon from the airport, the warddrobe synchronicity was purely coincidence and I don't normally wear blue eyeshadow and eyeliner - that was from today's audition for the part of a washed-up Eighties rocker.

So what.

I'm sure, deep down, Denis knew I was a fellow thesp, deeply immersed in the craft, too committed to waste time with superficial things like mid-day cleansing, when there was an actor to support.

Nah.

Denis Leary thinks I'm just another creepy sweaty guy who wears makeup and stands too close.

Ugh.