Friday the 13th

Thursday evening, I went to some finger-food 'n cocktails hoop-dee-hoo thrown by the Governor's Film Office to celebrate filmmaking in New York.

I got into the party since I recently got suckered into becoming a member of the Writers Guild Activities Committee. And while at the party, I plastered on a smile and tried to chat it up with some of the A.C. women.

I can't quite articulate how depressing this was.

Quite a bit older and unpleasant to look at for long stretches. (MIWFs.) They asked about my career, and I gave them the Cliff Notes version—with the sort of less-than-thrilled manner that you would use in relating something when you KNOW the person asking doesn't fully understand (or care) what you're telling them.

"Horror movies! Oh, your movie isn't gory, is it?"

"Uh... no, not really."

"Oh good! I saw this new show on one of the channels, it's this horror show -- I couldn't believe what they could put on network tv!"

"Fear Itself."

"Yes, THAT'S THE NAME OF IT! Oh my gawd, I had to tell my therapist about it, it kept up all night! Why would you show those things?!"

This one woman's breath bore the sharp odor of rotten eggs.

I wanted to kill her. Out of mercy. Just snap her neck.

I managed to break away so I could practice my Wallflower Shuffle elsewhere.

xxx
Zooey looked like an angel on the Letterman show this week. Don't know what she was babbling about, but she just looked like a perfect goddamn motherfucking cocksucking dizzy ding dang dong angel.

Everyone should go see her new movie The Happening this weekend because pretty girls need all the support and affirmation that we can offer them.