mighty low

my agent called the other day. she was very disappointed. i was unbooked from the will ferrell movie, now titled 'high wide and handsome'. seems an executive at columbia pictures reminded them if they wanted to keep their tax break status, they had to hire north carolina residents.
bummed am i.
it's like getting that skateboard for christmas. it's shaped right in the gift paper. but when you opened it, that's all that was right. while yer buds got powell-peraltas and tony hawks, you got a wal-mart brand deck. with shitty soft wheels and a lame deck with appropriate graphics approved by some corporate jack-ball.
adam mckay is my unwitting parent in this craptastic metaphor. he didn't know. all the other kids were from georgia. columbia pictures is kyle lapinski. he does not deserve powell-peralta. they do not deserve me. i am the skateboard i never got.
i'll never work in this town again.

of note

my agent called yesterday. she was very happy. i booked a guest role in will ferrell's new nascar comedy. i have been calling it a cameo. technically, that is incorrect. a cameo must be uncredited. peter jackson appeared in each of the lord of the rings trilogy. spike lee and alfred hitchcock were in all of their own flicks. did you see dan aykroyd in indiana jones and the temple of doom? i didn't.
credits are stuff you put on your resume to get agents. the better the credits, the better the representation. they are space tokens in the poker game of the entertainment industry.
i know not the role i'll inhabit. i hope it's the license test scene. i read for the driving instructor. there will be stunt driving oh yes. and a large jungle cat oh yes. i'm not shitting you oh no.
i have yet to pay my improper lane change ticket.

i like the cut of your giblet

it was about 100 degrees when we shot the bojangles 'digging to china' ad. the neighborhood was pristine. i was not. makeup and wardrobe rubbed dirt and grass in my hair. i apparently was not sweaty enough and spice (her parents hated her enough to name her that) was content to spray water on my armpits and rub it in with her bare hands.

sam the director had occasion to be joyous. we collaborated on a joke: we pop up in communist china and the neighbor still has his coffee mug. it said 'made in USA' on the bottom. guffaw!
the bluescreen will be cgi'd with rickshaws and pagodas.
the special fx team showed up around lunchtime. i campaigned for an image of a man confronting a chinese tank in tiananmen square holding up a defiant drumstick.
we also talked about how high the suicide rate is in china. a steady diet of industrial pesticides. no mention of chicken, but bojangles really has opened a restaurant in the city of 'china'.

a.m. = anti-matt

an MOK* voice over audition in my basement for hasbro's reintroduction of the furby. 8:30 in the morning. the client needs it by 9.
the directions read:
Upbeat MALE....
25-40...
FUN!! Energetic!!
A little quirkier than usual....
Vince Vaughn meets Yogi Bear.
Will Farrell as "Elf."
"Bender" from Futurama without sounding too ethnic or accented.
But naturally...not over the top like someone's trying to "act."
Dazzle me.
click here to hear my truly undazzling gravel-vox. sort of a vince vaughan vomits into a megaphone while will farrell grunts in bender's hollow torso.

*mit out klothen

pshaw-ditions

this week started out like a black snake and ended up a real m-80. i'm one of only a handful of lucky thespians called back for the bojangles spot. a guy digs a hole. his buddy wonders, 'hey what's with the shovelin', digger?' guy counters with 'they've opened a new bojangles in china!' hey big brain, help the boy dig! forget the fact that you'd have to start in chile or argentina. bo-jingley-jangles, ya'll!
at the autotrader.com audition i was asked to be footloose and fancyfree with the script. it's an internal video to get their employees buzzing over customer satisfaction. somebody there believes you can grab blue-collar attention with a comedian dressed as a chef putting 'ingredients of success' in a bowl. zut alors! their version starred 'chef rolay'. yuk. i wrote my own script, with full-on fun-tastic puns and culinary quips! check it out:
It takes a lot of ingredients to cook up a hot plate of success.
With me, Chef Paul Kudbuggle, as your guide, you’ll be out of the failure pan and on the expert plate in no time!
I always like to start with an Empowerment Snack-a-teaser. Begin with an entire package of trust. It may sound like a lot, but you can use too much of this. In fact the more you give, the more Empowerment there is to go around. Add a pinch of admiration with a dash of respect. This dish can go a long way. It not only whets your appetite, but it really gives those around you a taste of worth.
We know the English enjoy their afternoon spot o’ tea. Here in the States, our success comes from drinking Integri-Tea. You say, Chef Paul Kudbuggle, How do I make a pot of Integri-Tea? The basic ingredient is Truth. A gallon of it. It can’t be served in an unpredictable cup. Why? Take a look at this pasty fellow with food stains covering his shirt. He spills his Integri-tea. So always provide it in a mug of Reliability.
We’ve all heard there’s no I in Team. There is an M and an E. And an A and a T. That spells MEAT, the centerpiece of any profitable entrée. Meat doesn’t cook by itself. It’s seasoned with group dynamics such as cooperation, it’s grilled on an open communication flame, and rarely is a meal as satisfying unless it’s eaten with friends.
i was asked to immediately go back to the script. and this time, could i do a character. other than the twat I just portrayed? oh, you mean do a funny voice...
"it's always better with a funny voice."
i'll file that one away in my comedy 'don'ts & seriously...don'ts'
so i did it with a marvelous french accent and made milquetoast adjustments to their 'gazpacho dedication soup'...
i also had three voice over auditions, which i did from my own basement without having to put pants on. one for (surprise) ga lottery, one for dr. paul bearer's funeral spectacular (i'm lying), and the last for a nerf football that actually works better in mud.

do you exist?

john facenda is the voice of nfl films. he was hired to do some comedy voice overs for ford auto. i provided the character voices for three of them: the sports professor, the high school football hero, and the shirtless guy trying to start the wave.
i did this after getting in from LA at 5 am. i then had a callback for the will ferrell nascar movie (as yet untitled). it was in charlotte, north carolina, about 3 hours away.
i got about 2 hours into the drive, mason jennings keeping me company on the cd player. my agent called. if i couldn't be there in 15 minutes they couldn't see me. i was late.
they could see me tomorrow.
i relented, ate a bean burrito and turned back for home. outside greenville i was pulled over for an "improper lane change". the cop, a huge gap-toothed man, asked me to step out of the car. i was positioned in front of the camera on his dash. the litany goes like this:
where are you going? really. do you own this car? really. what do you do for a living? really.
this is the fourth time this has happened to me. in alabama i was told my tag was expired. it wasn't. this cop attempted a similar maneuver:
"where'd you get the tag?"
from the tag office when i registered the oldsmobile 88.
"well, this tag is registered to a lincoln town car."
i shrugged.
by this point, three more cops pulled in. two with drug dogs.
any illegal items in the vehicle? really. are you carrying large sums of cash? really. can we search your car?
i said no.
i'm no lawyer. i know a little about civil liberties. i thought this would be the end of it.
no way.
immediately, a german shepherd was led around the 88. my wife's grandmother's car. i didn't see it give a bark or jump up or do anything. yet, the stunted-growth cop opened the doors to my car, allowing the dog in. he began searching through everything.
six marked and unmarked cars now lined the interstate. i turned to a round-faced cop chewing tobacco. i asked do i fit the profile? he deadpanned:
"nawsir. a profile does not exist."
a fantastic solution to any problem.
"by the way, watch those ants don't git in yer shoes." a line of ants stretched across three lanes of i-85. i was hypnotized. the line remained unbroken despite rush hour traffic.
the cop spat a wad of brown dip on the ants. a war of attrition.
"tough little 'gunners."
nearly an hour passed. cops on their backs under the 88 with flashlights. ice scraper, spare tire cover, guitar amp, comic books dotted the brown grass outside greenville. i'll always cherish that time a cop of the bucktoothed variety pat me down.
"you smoke marijuana?"
no.
"do you do any drugs?"
no.
"why is there a box of sandwich bags under the front seat?"
hold sandwiches.
"have a nice day."
i got a $77 ticket for improper lane change. against my gut feeling, i went back to charlotte the next day. i auditioned for adam mckay (pictured with will ferrell). he had me read two parts. his comment was:
"that's it, perfect read. you're very funny. thanks it was nice meeting you."
i told him how we'd met a couple time before about 10 years ago.
"dude, i remember you. you guys did shakespeare in austin. it was awesome."
i was flattered. fuckin'-a right it was.