Gotta love Thai commercials

Dear Ma,
                   Things are going well in the big city. I've even made some new friends:

Yup. I have a feeling everything is going to work out just fine.
I'll send money home soon.


K

So like, what do you do?

When someone asks me what I do for a living I tend to panic. I never really know how to answer it without sounding like a douche bag. The problem is that I work as an actor and there really isn't any way to say it without entering the marathon of suck that is talking about it.

You see, when someone says “Im an actor” the average person thinks one of two things:

1. No your not. You're a douche bag and you are just trying to sound like you don't work at Applebee's. Which you do.
   
   
   
   
   OR
   
   
   
   
2. Really?!! WOW! What movies have you been in? Do you know any famous people? What's Brad Pitt like?!!!

Now, its about this time that I immediately regret saying Im an actor, wishing desperately that I could take a mulligan and just say I work at Applebee's. But I can't. Its out there. So now we are going to talk about it.

If you are the guy that thinks Im a douche bag, I have to admit; I don't blame you because saying “Im an actor” does sound douchey. That and I do kind of look like a douche bag (Its ok. I've come to terms with it).

But I don't blame you because I can't tell you how many times I have met some person who was way to excited to tell me “ Oh me? Im an actor!” and immediately my first response is to secretly think the person in front of me has all the credibility of a homemade condom. I do my best to hide my contempt but I have never been good at such things.

I feel like this because so many “actors” just..... aren't. They are in no way actors. They probably did some shitty short film or a play 2 years ago and now feel like they need to get a shirt made.

But in reality they don't have an agent, don't audition, and don't work more than once a year and its these fucktards that love nothing more than to “talk about the craft”. I can just see them at home answering James Lipton's questions into their hairbrush microphones. They are those special little unique snowflakes that make me feel like writing my name is pee and it's because of these non contributing zero's that we get a bad name.....well, that and the fact that damn near every actor you have ever met is a self involved, egomaniacal weirdo craving your validation.

That might help too.

So I understand you immediate mistrust of me. Its fair. At least its not the other classic response of “Do you know Brad Pitt?”

 You need to understand something:

I hate you. Please go away forever. This question is the devil.

I would rather have the worst hangover of my life while working the complaint desk at the bottle depot, than have to answer this question. Again.

Asking me if I know Brad Pitt is kinda like asking someone who is in business what Donald Trump is like in real life.

No. I don't know Brad Pitt. I will never know Brad Pitt and I am completely ok with that. Even if I somehow did know him I would still tell you I don't because you are a boob. You might not realize it but there is a bit more to being an actor than trying to meet famous people.

What its like to be an actor

Now if you don't mind my section just filled up and I forgot to ring in your chicken fries.

Everybody is working for the weekend

Every now and then I find myself in a situation where I can't help but think how the hell did I get here? Lately, I have been having a lot of those. Like now for example, where I find myself standing in front a big cardboard box that I am very unhappy with. This is because it is full of speedos. Speedos I am expected to model.

I really should have put in that no speedo clause.....

These particular banana hammocks are European in flair; high rise on the sides and non existent in the back. Sweet. No tan lines. I guess if you are the type of person who wears speedos you might look at this box and think "JACKPOT!!!" but I'm more of the "does anybody have a match" persuasion.  

This all being said, I pride myself on being a professional so I drop trouser (I wonder how many times that exact statement has been written?) and gear up. I brace myself with a confidence boosting speech that would make even Dirk Diggler proud and I step out.

I pull back the $3 shower curtain (also known as the door to my luxurious change room) to find 3 lady boys looking directly at my "apparel". This is my posse. They are my hairdresser, my "stylist" (I use the term loosely) and my MUA (make up artist). For a moment, I worry that he wants to do some touch ups but I quickly sidestep that issue and him and head directly into the studio. 

Now have you ever had that dream where you are standing in front of the class and you are wearing nothing but your underwear? Well apparently that is what I do for a living. At least today it is. I find myself standing in front of 20 or so people who are all staring at me expecting me to do something as if I'm some sort of dancing monkey.

 I can just see the SNL skit now with Patrick Swayze and Chris Farley as auditioning Chippendale dancers. Man I miss that guy..... and Im not talking about Swayze. 

 We have been shooting all day and the pace has been ridiculously fast as is most catalogue shoots. You spend about 12 hours in front of the same boring back drop doing the same 4 cheesy poses, shirt after shirt, pant after pant (side note: can someone please explain to me why pants are plural and shirts are singular? Both have 2 appendages?)  and most of the time the crews here in Thailand seem less interested then George Bush at a feminist rally. Right now however everyone seems to have "noticed" my new outfit, making this is more awkward that an Amish prom.

 At least it can't get any worse I think to myself.... until it does: out of nowhere this little Thai man comes over and decides to "adjust" my outfit without so much as offering to buy me a drink first.  Seriously man, I could've used a "hey, heads up: Im just gonna throw around your package like I work at UPS".

 Usually you get used to random people poking at you as they have an onset dressers who watch for things like wrinkles in clothing so this is nothing out of the ordinary. Unless all you are wearing is a fucking speedo.

Long story short: I modelled the shit out of those speedos.