JULY 4: It’s summertime, and I’m bald! You know, like… all the way. As in: pretending like I have some choice in the matter. But who needs hair when you’ve got a sexy mamacita like this on your lap? WooHOO! 4th of July! Founding Fathers! Great Nation! Let’s wrap some hot dogs up in bacon, char’em til they’re black, then pause to reflect on what it is exactly that we’re celebrating. Oh right — our independence! Yup, still got that one covered.
JULY 5: Jump on a plane with sexy mamacita and head to New York City, where she’s to begin rehearsals for a new show on… (cue George Benson)
That’s right folks, Autumn is gonna be singing and dancing, and perhaps even doing some “acting” on the Great White Way (racist — I think so too), in a little show you might have heard of… No, it’s not Mel Brooks’ new “Silent Movie The Musical,” and it doesn’t involve puppets or naked children. Nope, in fact it’s one of the most anticipated shows of next season, written and produced by the one and only, Dolly Parton. What a way to make a living…
JULY 9: So she’s off in rehearsals, and it just so happens that I have an audition for another new musical. What’s more, I starred in said musical during its L.A. and Vegas runs, to much ridiculous and ego-boosting fanfare I might add. Well, after some serious rocking and rolling at my good buddy Bernie Telsey’s casting offices on 43rd, I left the room with not quite as much fanfare. Long story short, apparently I’m not “right” for the show anymore. Hmm… If by “right” they mean that I rock just a little too hard to keep up with, then I must say that I agree… I agree. There, I said it.
JULY 10-18: I spend the next week and half sulking and playing house-husband. No, seriously… that’s what I did. We also squeezed in some good eats (check out my food reviews on YELP), and I managed to teach Rage that pooping whilst standing in the middle of Broadway and ANY cross-street, is not wise decision making for a six pound dog.
I also saw more celebrities floating around the city than I ever do here in LaLa Land. Victoria’s Secret Angel, Adriana Lima, kept making googly eyes at me while we were at dinner one night. I’m pretty sure she was miffed because I was with another (more beautiful) woman… but hey, she had her chance back in ’04 at that speed dating picnic in Lisbon. You snooze, you lose, lady…
Said hi to Paul Schaffer while walking the dog, and watched William Petersen hurry by one afternoon with his entourage — which kinda stumped me. WILLIAM PETERSEN has an entourage? I want an entourage.
JULY 19: I fly back to Burbank, dead tired from the ri-donkulously early morning flight from JFK. Grab some breakfast with the soon-to-be-world-famous, Dave Storrs, and his girlfriend. Then drag my tired butt over to the mall and stand in line for two hours to buy one of the last eight remaining 3G iPhones in the Valley. You know, the same one I scoffed at, rolling my eyes in disbelief at the Lemmings who would actually STAND IN LINE for a phone? Yeah, that one. Geesh… I’m a living, breathing contradiction.
JULY 28: After days of catching up on all the things that need “caught up,” I blog into the wee hours of the morning, hoping to spread goodwill and cheer to my fellow man, (and the other two weirdos who are reading this.) If there are indeed more of you, I ask you to prove me wrong. Leave a comment. Then again, don’t feel TOO obliged. It’s all part of the summer lovin’… and I’m having a blast.
"
"
"
"
"