Remember how on Remington Steele, Stephanie Zimbalist hired whatisname -- James Bond number five -- to be Remington Steele because no one would believe she could be a private detective?
That's what I need: a 30-something dude with skinny glasses to pretend to be me... just go hang out at LiT and SKYY Bar and the art museum handing out my card, so people will think I'm actually an artist.
4 comments:
Not sure I understand why it matters what others think in this regard. (Or in any other regard, for that matter...)
I think you're an artist.
But again, that's meaningless. What I think. What they think.
What do YOU think? Because that matters.
You've got the beret and all ...
You mean it ISN'T all about the wardrobe?
Oooops.
blogblah!!!
From the top again.
Who's writing the script, you or one of the voices in your head?
You're not having sex because you don't want to?
You're not an artist because you don't want to?
You're not eating bok choy because you don't want to?
You are, however, a bundle of energy, always on the go.
PS
This isn't a dress rehersal; we're well into the third act of closing night. And you keep choosing the same part to play? You must get something out it.
PPS
Will some drag old blogblah out of the wardrobe? He keeps messin' with the hats.
Dude, you're like the best cat barf artist I've ever not met in real life.
Fer sure, like totally! Your work is so lifelike I can almost feel the cat barf in between my toes. Hot and cold, both.
You rock in my enabler book!
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