Quick Follow-Up

Dear Brad,
So I haven’t heard back from you regarding my thoughts about collaborating dated February 9th; I know you’ve been really busy, with the UN goodwill ambassadorship, the baby on the way and getting the Tibetan prayer tattoo on your back for little Maddox, but not to worry, my sources have been staying abreast of the developments. I hear you’re considering doing The Frontrunner, a decision I whole-heartedly support. I loved the book when I read it, though I’ll admit that was some time ago. I’m assuming you’re planning on playing the ex-Marine and -hustler turned College track coach Harlen Brown. Your hotness will be well utilized in that role, especially if you’ve kept the physique you developed for Troy. Seriously, you looked like you’d been built from a kit, I had straight guys telling me your Achilles was giving them some sleepless nights.
I assume this means you’re not planning on taking my advice of making a story about a love affair between an Adonis and a normal shmoe, since the only character I can see playing would be Billy Sive. Wow, you’re giving me quite a challenge with this one, aren’t you. A college track star described as "handsome despite his mop of Hippie hair and his granny glasses." Where to start? The hair is the least of my concerns, hell if I just refrain from cutting it while you get the financing in order, by the time we’re ready to start shooting, I won’t need hair extensions. Think of how much that will save us right there on make-up (or is that wardrobe?). The granny glasses, okay, that’s tougher, I think even someone as gorgeous as yourself would find them a bit of an obstacle to overcome, but I’m ready to give it a whirl. But college-age track star? Well now. I am on the scrawny side, so we’ve got that going for us, and in fact I ran cross country in school, so I’m familiar with the subtleties required to portray a person running like hell, but Billy Sive is what, twenty years old? Twenty-two at the most? People tell me I look young for my age, but here we’re talking half my age. Then there’s the whole ‘handsome’ thing. Okay, like I said, I’m not Quasimodo, but a handsome twenty year old? I think that may be beyond even my abilities, especially if we’re going to make the sex scenes between you and me as explicit as I think the story requires. So, I think there’s really only one answer.
Plastic surgery. And lots of it.
I’ll probably need a face-lift to start with, I could use some serious dermabrasion to help with the acne scars, and while we’re in the neighborhood, why don’t I get a chin too? I’ve always wanted one, so this could be a great opportunity, and I’m sure we could write it off as a business expense. It's for the good of the project.
In terms of my body, I suppose I could just start training hard now so as to be in tip-top shape for the first day of shooting. Thank god he wasn’t a football player, right? I do have this incipient spare tire however that we might as well get rid of while I’m under the knife for all the other stuff. I don’t think it really adds much to the bill, and losing it will certainly jump-start my journey to looking like a Olympic gold medal winning, barely out of his teens, long distance runner. I suppose we can use a body double for some of the shots, such as the ninety million times we have to see Billy running around a track at practice and whatnot, but we’ll have to use me in the love scenes if we want to maintain the integrity of the film. Even if the rumors about your questionable hygiene are true, that’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make. That’s just how much this story means to me.
So those are my thoughts; can’t wait to get to work. I’ll check into surgeons and fees here in New York, but feel free to give me any names if you have someone you like (not that YOU needed any surgery, but maybe Jennifer did at some point). If he’s in LA then I’ll need accommodations of course, but it needn’t be fancy; I’ll be perfectly content to stay with you, Angelina and the kids. That way we won’t have to waste a moment getting right to work exploring our characters’ relationship. My process is really best served by using a lot of improvisation. With enough pain killers, we can start the minute I come out of anaesthesia.
So just let me know when you’ve secured the funding for my surgeries. And don’t be a stranger! Call me day or night.
Kisses,
Patrick

Links-A-Go-Go

This is one of those times when my lack of web editing skills really shows. I’ve been wanting to write an entry that involved a lot of links to other blogs, even linking back to previous entries in my own blog, but I don’t to know how to do it in that really cool way, you know, where you say "for more information click here or here," and both the heres are links with the different colored font and everything. It is so much more elegant than having to type in the address each time, and I’m sure my Neanderthal approach earns me the disdain of bloggers everywhere, but I really don’t have any alternative at present. So I hope you’ll bear with me, and if anyone feels she or he is able to explain to me how to do those cool linky things, I’d be much obliged.
One of my new favorite blogs is Joe. My. God. (http://joemygod.blogspot.com). There’s lots of great writing, with a wit and concision I hope to emulate when I grow up to be a big blogger. There are many entries I might point you to, such as "Withdrawn!" (April 12th) where he suggests a policy I and Melissa of A Choreographer’s Blog (http://kinesisproject.blogspot.com) would like to implement into our lives. The entry that occasions this writing however is inspired by Exodus International. (See my previous entry entitled "Stop Helping.") Joe reports on a lawsuit they filed against someone who posted a photo (while I’m learning blog editing, maybe I could learn photoshop too, ‘cause damn, that’s some cool shit) satirizing a billboard Exodus had planted outside a gay establishment that said "Gay? Unhappy?" then it listed the web address for the organization. The parody said simply "Straight? Unhappy?" with the address for a gay dating website. Thanks to the ACLU and laws recognizing satire as protected speech, Exodus decided not to proceed with the lawsuit. (Go to Wikipedia for more information on this whole situation, and organization. Find that link yourself, I’m getting tired.) This prompted Joe to suggest a contest where people send in their own ideas for how to satirize the billboard. For a picture of the billboard see Joe’s entry entitled "Parody-licious!" (April 18th).
I love this idea but seem to lose my sense of humor over these people. The best I can come up with is:
"Bigoted? Hate-filled? Self-righteous, sanctimonious, judgmental, pseudo-Christian homophobes masquerading-as-compassionate fuckwits? Change is possible, but fat chance morons like you who don’t have the brains god gave a barca-lounger would be able to see it."
Then I start barking and have to be sedated.
I think we can all agree my approach lacks a certain satirical elegance, no? So I invite you to come up with your own ideas for this parody contest. Joe is accepting submissions at his blog, and said he will post the funny ones. You can also post your ideas on your own blog, tell Joe about it, and maybe he’ll link to your blog. Unlike me, Joe knows how to do that cool linky thing.

Long Before the Metrosexual

February 1997.
I attend a meeting of Lavender and Green, an Irish and Irish-American GLBT group. The members are almost exclusively gay men, mostly second generation New Yorkers with a scattering of immigrants. (There is one former nun who is fabulous.) I think quite a few of them, had they not been born gay, would have been conservative Republicans. A few of them are anyway. My earrings are noteworthy to some, though they make sure to tell me they like them.

In greeting and parting, we all shake hands, firm and manly.

After the meeting I head over to a party of friends who are fellow actors. There are quite a few women there, but funnily enough the group is again mostly men. I am the only gay guy present.

In greeting and parting, we all hug and kiss on the lips.