Warning: This journal is rated R, for restricted audiences. It contains naughty language and adult situations. If you are under 18, do not read without the consent of an adult.
Wednesday, July 22, 1998: Production Day 3
High and Mighty,
Ahhh. Today was a little better than the last, and it wasn't because there were less oranguatans and wombats and wildebeasts on set- because there were plenty, I assure you. Today was nice because I had not only the pleasure of meeting the lovely and gentle Catherine Keener, but also getting extreeeeemely stoned on the job. Hooo-wee. Man, I was blooooowed. Every time my walkie went off I jumped about six feet in the air, figuring god or the devil or who knows who was whispering in my ear. Needless to say, today was kind of a blur, and that is just fine with me. I ate a lot of food, wandered around like a zombie, stared at my foot and laughed a lot. There is some serious down-time in the movie biz, I'm starting to realize. I need to figure a way to up my productivity level. Maybe I'll bring a book or something. Or maybe I will just do more drugs. One bad thing, the shoot went short, which means we'll be coming in extra early tomorrow. I haven't really figured out the whole schedule/timing thing, it's a little confusing. All's I know is I get paid once a week, so a few more days of shooting and I am in-the-fucking-money. Sweet mammy jammy it will be nice to eat and drink like a normal person once again, and not the shifty vagrant I have become. Lloyd Rice is back, fuckers. Million dollar idea: cell phone bong.
