Thursday, March 29, 2018
Job
Max quit his gallery and signed with
a brand new one, which would debut
with him, and with a groundbreaking
show of what Time already hailed as
freshmax.
The night before opening, stolen, every
painting.
State of the Art Security, uh huh?
Captain Ossing, heading the Art Theft
Squad: “Pros altogether! What can I
tell you now?”
As all such cleverness does, it eventually faded from the
news as leads exhausted.
news as leads exhausted.
Hottest Rumor, bought by a Swiss who
displays them to crooked international friends.
Anyway, Max and the gallery did okay on the insurance.
All law enforcement still amazed at the brilliance of the job!
The latest Hollywood blockbuster reveals a woman behind it, but, of course, that couldn’t be.
Labels: art theft, art world, caper, criminal, Hollywood, security
Sunday, March 13, 2016
Star!
-How do I say hello to your Image?
-Same.
-I miss the real you, warts and all.
-That chaotic slut nearly killed me!
The Big Guys stepped in to save my
career.
-Now, it's Little Miss Perfect!
-Better than the petty little vileness
I was before.
-Not to me. Can you bend for old
times' sake?
-I'm allowed a transgression a year,
flying to a secret Caribbean isle as
Wanda Broadass.
-Why don't I bring the isle to you, or
at least a peninsula?
-Stop trying. Here's the key to the liquor
cabinet.
-Will you imbibe?
-Wouldn't be surprised.
Labels: fast life, Hollywood, image, old friends, past, refolrm
Sunday, July 05, 2015
Combat, No Real Fatigue
“You know,” halfway though their initial date,
“I thought I was the champion of selfish
obnoxiousness, but I've been supplanted.
All hail to the new miscreant!”
She made a sweetly fluttering reply ending with the
word, moron.
Off and running, they. And continued for several
more encounters.
Then, Here Comes the Bride, etc.
OKay okay, belay the Tracy-Hepburn, or its later
manifestations in films by Mike Nichols, Nora Ephron.
The latter: Chick Flicks with clawing techniques.
Well, clawing plus cloying, that’s Hollywood!
This marriage definitely not that second cl-!
They fought continuously. Occasional peace
treaties to lend time to regroup.
Exhausting most others.
For their ten-year anniversary, return to that arch
bookstore’s coffee bar, and repeat the original script,
just about word for word.
The pride in being able to do that sustains the usual war
for rollicking days.
And–-Oy!--years.
Labels: Ephron, fighting couple, Hollywood, Nichols, Tracy-Hepburn
Saturday, April 04, 2015
Dream Factory
After the previous night, when both Rip and Caroline actually
left him, Hobie proved scattered in the important scene,
dropping a drink when he toasted the end of the Interstellar War.
But the Polish director wouldn’t reshoot. “Good! Stupido!
Ev-body stupido!”
Also his metallic pants made his rectum itch so, he cried.
“Good! Cry. Is happy time, so cry because!”
Hobie finally got to Dr Rolski, the studio’s European Publicist,
in town to translate in this shipwreck of a production.
“After I graduated from Krakow and signed on here, they told
me Dream Factory, which I correctly translated to Bullshit Factory!
Anyway, I can’t say anything to the director, who belongs in an
institution, American OR Polish. Better, American, since
his English is better than his Polish.
Hobie sunk back into the sofa in Rolski’s cluttered Winnebago.
“In English, Polish, French or German, my life is flying apart!”
“Join the club!”
Labels: bisexual, breakup, director, Dream Factory, European, Hollywood, Polish, shipwreck
Wednesday, December 24, 2014
New Wine in Old Boffos
-It’s hardboiled detective drama from the Forties.
With the boxy clothes! Can’t have Chevvie SUVs and
humongous vans, and Special K on breakfast tables!
-Handsome product placement fees!
-They’re anachronisms!
-So is the producer! Here for thirty years and still
can’t speak English!
-Doesn’t affect the product.
-The PRODUCT? Is it affected by a director fresh off his latest
detox after the boyfriend finally left? A leading man and lady
without a discernable IQ between them? Techs who’ve been
around so long that this Jewel in the Crown is not the worst
crap they’ve worked on?
-Never mind all that! Let’s keep the integrity of the script.
-That WHAT? It started straight-stupid drama, and then sent
itself up for demented chuckles. It’s a total, unreclaimable mess!
ANYWAY...as they say in Chinatown, let’s cut to the Chink!
-Which is?
-You got shit? Swing with it!
Labels: anachronism, Bomb, Chinatown, detective drama, hardboiled, Hollywood, product placement
Saturday, April 19, 2014
Wronged
-So you need a wronged woman? I got one! Deepest hurt for
the ladies. And then endless homicidal rage for the more
vicious segment of them.
-I'll call the agent of this...?
-Laurie. Nothing like her on the planet. Scares the shit outa me
just looking at her.
-Sounds perfect.
-Uh...I just thought, unfortunately. I'm afraid she recently ruled herself out.
-Stop it! How could...?
-She became a Larry.
-Sex change operation?
-The whole meghilla. So, if you need a wronged man someday,
that inner drive to murder translates easily enough.
-Call in one of the lazy-ass writers!
-Interesting move. Flip the script from girl to guy.
-No problem-o! But I'm thinking deeper this instant. Wronged both
as woman and man! In fact...perhaps not by external people at all.
-The whole searing drama played inside Larry-Laurie?
Jekyll and Helen?
-I'm sniffing Academy Awards!
-At least one of those genius ones for you.
-“I’d like to thank...nobody.” It’s a lonely life.
Labels: Academy Award, Hollywood, Jekyll and Hyde, producer, script, story conference
Tuesday, April 15, 2014
So-called Scrotum Window Bill has passed
President Joline Shellmire will sign into law
Quotes:
1) I'll sign it. It's trivial, but let's get it out of the way.
Our table is too full to waste any more time on it.
2) Trivial, hey? If Freedom is trivial! -Sen Malcom Rosstell,R,WY.
3) Let the boys have their little peekaboo. But, buy new garments.
Modified ones too chintzy! -Actress Mixxy Elbore
4) Add a devil-may-care female president to a perpetually cowardly
congress, and is it any wonder that the Hollywoodization of America is finally accomplished? We will pay! God insists!
-Rev Osgood Greb, Decency Front
5) Scrotum? How to not show what accompanies it? -Till Evans,
Women’s Aggregate
More from Sex & Politics WebNews in fifteen minutes
Labels: Christian, Hollywood, politics, scrotum, sex
Thursday, January 02, 2014
Heat of Darkness
Hooray For Hollywood
Sam totally black!
Uh uh! they say, bit
of lighter pigment
in all. Try a deep
cave. He dreams of
movie tarts sparked
by the exotic. Real
life results, nil.
Meantime, Curt, so white
as to be abstract, enters
the studio as a star. His
father runs the conglomerate
absorbing it. Extensive
filtration of bland looks and squeak-
y voice pull still further tricks. His
posse of pinks and browns rue-
fully enfold “Midnight Sam.” So they de-
cide one fast evening to paint him
Leonardo DiCaprio’s hue.
But the drugs wear down. Fortunately,
film noir making a comeback, and he
becomes a gangster therein, terror-
izing corn-fed blondes from the interior.
Labels: black, drugs, film noir, gangster, Hollywood, Leonardo DiCaprio
Wednesday, May 01, 2013
Washington Correspondents’ Dinner
Ah the Glitterati! Hardly
the reporters or politicians,
who’ve had over-
much excrement
hurled at them for such
a label. So, Hollywoods suck
up the Red Carpet instead.
It’s all of it what it is:
Flash and Gas.
Labels: actor, Hollywood, politician, Red Carpet, Washington
Sunday, April 14, 2013
Coastals
EAST
I'll hafta go to the West Coast.
The solution's on the ground.
WEST
You've done. And here you are.
The spotlight points with disgust.
EAST
Quite so. The former. Facts before opinion.
WEST
I'm listening.
EAST
You must set out the problem.
WEST
I don't do inventory.
EAST
I'm on my own then?
WEST
Emphatically! Sam Spade after partner Miles
x'd by Mary Astor.
EAST
Wifty, yet calculating.
WEST
You‘ve met my wives?
EAST
No, and I never sang for your father.
WEST
That's okay. My father sang for your father.
EAST
Chums then?
WEST
No. He was too awful.
EAST
Back to the case at hand. I abstract, since
you won't cooperate.
WEST
Do! But shake a leg! Lunch can't be late.
EAST
A hates B because of C. Therefore E is the
culprit.
WEST
You think?
EAST
Not really. By turning the solution upside
down, it's actually V.
WEST
Shall we notify police?
EAST
Not so! We've privatized Justice. You and I
will take out V.
WEST
Our usual method?
EAST
Talk her to death.
WEST
I didn't know she was a she.
EAST
Nor did she. That's where the complexity of
the case becomes complex.
WEST
When you heading back?
EAST
So Murphy, the Irish Wolfhound, can reclaim my
sordid cot? At any rate, I bore you. My tragic flaw.
WEST
One.
EAST
Yes, they're lining up out the door.
WEST
And down the street past the Lyric.
EAST
Starring Humphrey Bogart as Sam.
WEST
That’s what the marquee says. It goes on
The one with Mary Astor.
EAST
That's vague even for us. Get the step ladder.
We'll put up the letters of The Maltese Falcon.
WEST
Or Falcone in the Italian version. And one sounds
the terminal letter.
EAST
Always and forever. Let's meet halfway next
time. I'm worn and torn by air travel, packed
into a tube stinking of fellow men.
WEST
The gals are perfumed. Don't add them to
your satire.
EAST
They're excluded by your recommendation.
Not that they’ll thank anyone!
WEST
Where is halfway, by the bye?
EAST
Pittsburgh.
WEST
Your geography is as brilliant as your wit.
EAST
Nonetheless, my advice to you stays constant:
Take two and hit to right.
WEST
But if I do that I never land the big salary
the sluggers get.
EAST
Amen amen I say to you, they also serve who only
land bloopers.
WEST
Our whole lives are bloopers.
EAST
Leave us to heaven. I’m hungry.
EAST
I'll hafta go to the West Coast.
The solution's on the ground.
WEST
You've done. And here you are.
The spotlight points with disgust.
EAST
Quite so. The former. Facts before opinion.
WEST
I'm listening.
EAST
You must set out the problem.
WEST
I don't do inventory.
EAST
I'm on my own then?
WEST
Emphatically! Sam Spade after partner Miles
x'd by Mary Astor.
EAST
Wifty, yet calculating.
WEST
You‘ve met my wives?
EAST
No, and I never sang for your father.
WEST
That's okay. My father sang for your father.
EAST
Chums then?
WEST
No. He was too awful.
EAST
Back to the case at hand. I abstract, since
you won't cooperate.
WEST
Do! But shake a leg! Lunch can't be late.
EAST
A hates B because of C. Therefore E is the
culprit.
WEST
You think?
EAST
Not really. By turning the solution upside
down, it's actually V.
WEST
Shall we notify police?
EAST
Not so! We've privatized Justice. You and I
will take out V.
WEST
Our usual method?
EAST
Talk her to death.
WEST
I didn't know she was a she.
EAST
Nor did she. That's where the complexity of
the case becomes complex.
WEST
When you heading back?
EAST
So Murphy, the Irish Wolfhound, can reclaim my
sordid cot? At any rate, I bore you. My tragic flaw.
WEST
One.
EAST
Yes, they're lining up out the door.
WEST
And down the street past the Lyric.
EAST
Starring Humphrey Bogart as Sam.
WEST
That’s what the marquee says. It goes on
The one with Mary Astor.
EAST
That's vague even for us. Get the step ladder.
We'll put up the letters of The Maltese Falcon.
WEST
Or Falcone in the Italian version. And one sounds
the terminal letter.
EAST
Always and forever. Let's meet halfway next
time. I'm worn and torn by air travel, packed
into a tube stinking of fellow men.
WEST
The gals are perfumed. Don't add them to
your satire.
EAST
They're excluded by your recommendation.
Not that they’ll thank anyone!
WEST
Where is halfway, by the bye?
EAST
Pittsburgh.
WEST
Your geography is as brilliant as your wit.
EAST
Nonetheless, my advice to you stays constant:
Take two and hit to right.
WEST
But if I do that I never land the big salary
the sluggers get.
EAST
Amen amen I say to you, they also serve who only
land bloopers.
WEST
Our whole lives are bloopers.
EAST
Leave us to heaven. I’m hungry.
Labels: Astor, Bogart, Coastal, East, friendship, Hollywood, West
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
Hooray for
"Plot involves hairdresser, let’s call him
Bruce, because cliches are easier to deal
with this morning. Anyway, what he
learns from his clients lays the ground-
work for his second career: Cat Burglar!
Anyway, get me a masculine actor.
Anyway, get me a masculine actor.
I’m sick of these pseudo macho men
who camp it up because they’re afraid
we’ll think them queer.
How about Relitzky? Uh huh, yeah, I know. Brute! He eats steel and shits bullets!
Are you finally through? Too hard edged? Couldn’t sell Bruce?
How about Relitzky? Uh huh, yeah, I know. Brute! He eats steel and shits bullets!
Are you finally through? Too hard edged? Couldn’t sell Bruce?
Yada yada yada! No empathy there at all?
I...uh...wouldn’t worry about that.
I...uh...wouldn’t worry about that.
I know him better than you.
And his wives.
(Sings) And the boy he left behind him,
where the River Drava flows.”
where the River Drava flows.”
Labels: Cat Burglar, crime, Hollywood, homosexuality
Friday, October 26, 2012
Agent
-Look! You're the artist. You hafta figure out how, but you must change. I can't get you any work at present. And with year 3000
coming up...?
-Well I'm trying like hell but you know that I'm a clone. Of other clones, actually. The original me was born in the nineteen forties. Then the acting prototype was Alan Ladd.
And for the tearjerkers, George Brent
who wore a sports jacket consisting of shoulder pads, and was abnormally
sensitive to the ladies.
-Yeah? Never mind that last horseradish.
Alan Ladd and Humphrey Bogart were film noir. After three nuclear wars, that sorta evil considered incredibly bush.
-That noir stuff still permeates me. I can’t help it. Some prof at USC is starting a group, though. For clones in the movie industry.
-Well, anyway...hold on!...may be something after all. Jeanine’s telepathing me about another screwing-a-robot film. Yeah!
You get lustful with one and then--
with a nod to the girls–-actually fall in love. Hell of a plot!
-I'll take it!
-It's a boy robot.
-I go either way--due to the times.
-That's a start towards solving our big problem! You’re a handsome young
man in any age. That should always
mean money!
-Look! You're the artist. You hafta figure out how, but you must change. I can't get you any work at present. And with year 3000
coming up...?
-Well I'm trying like hell but you know that I'm a clone. Of other clones, actually. The original me was born in the nineteen forties. Then the acting prototype was Alan Ladd.
And for the tearjerkers, George Brent
who wore a sports jacket consisting of shoulder pads, and was abnormally
sensitive to the ladies.
-Yeah? Never mind that last horseradish.
Alan Ladd and Humphrey Bogart were film noir. After three nuclear wars, that sorta evil considered incredibly bush.
-That noir stuff still permeates me. I can’t help it. Some prof at USC is starting a group, though. For clones in the movie industry.
-Well, anyway...hold on!...may be something after all. Jeanine’s telepathing me about another screwing-a-robot film. Yeah!
You get lustful with one and then--
with a nod to the girls–-actually fall in love. Hell of a plot!
-I'll take it!
-It's a boy robot.
-I go either way--due to the times.
-That's a start towards solving our big problem! You’re a handsome young
man in any age. That should always
mean money!
Labels: clone, future, Hollywood, robot
Sunday, July 29, 2012
High Fidelity
-Director asked for you. He's a bio-method guy.
Likes that your wives cheated.
-Well, four did. Deal going in with present.
-Which is?
-No one gives a shit about anything.
-Now there's a partnership!
Labels: fidelityA, Hollywood, theater
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Premiere
Actresses arrive
in swarms of hair.
Fitzgerald had
Bernice bob hers
in defiance way
back where.
Saturday, August 14, 2010
Crass Dialog with Lovely Accent
-Well, I've perused the script. And I can't see for the life of me how an actor fits into it.
-You’ll be the Force Field!...it'd help to have read
Confla-great-O Comics.
-I'm not sure we have them in Britain.
-Confla-great-O is everywhere!
-Oh dear.
-Besides, the audience does see you as a person briefly.
Before you morph into Force Field.
-Well, I'm really not sure. Perhaps if...
-Hey! It's a fuckin payday! And they want a cultured voice, not
the usual corn-fed yokels hereabouts.
-Force Fields as British. Should I feel some pride in that?
-Cut the arch horseshit! You need the money.
Upside down on the house and car!
-And, soon, the career.
-Well, I've perused the script. And I can't see for the life of me how an actor fits into it.
-You’ll be the Force Field!...it'd help to have read
Confla-great-O Comics.
-I'm not sure we have them in Britain.
-Confla-great-O is everywhere!
-Oh dear.
-Besides, the audience does see you as a person briefly.
Before you morph into Force Field.
-Well, I'm really not sure. Perhaps if...
-Hey! It's a fuckin payday! And they want a cultured voice, not
the usual corn-fed yokels hereabouts.
-Force Fields as British. Should I feel some pride in that?
-Cut the arch horseshit! You need the money.
Upside down on the house and car!
-And, soon, the career.
Labels: actor, comic books, Hollywood
