Thursday, November 30, 2006

fiction

"you vile cunt!"
somehow i had become a cunt a second after I asked Dancy for my money. she sat behind her cheap ikea desk, full of scratches and dents that exposed particle board. i had enough sense to go buy a used desk from a flea market that didn't look like chintz. something that didn't make me look like someone playing adult-time in production land. like someone so broke that everything was going tits up in about a month. this rat was jumping ship, but I wasn't leaving without some blood that's for damn sure.
"Nice Dancy, I'm the cunt because you, you what?" I cupped a hand to my ear and sashayed myself to the edge of the desk. "Dancy! Speak up! I don't think reception could hear."
The two receptionists spun around in their chairs quickly to look busy. Eyes in cubicles near the open office door looked at me and looked down. Probably should have closed the door, but I was raised by two unionized parents. "Baby, if you know you're on the way out, all you need to remember is don't sign anything and make a scene. Dignity is walking out with more money than your worth and security dragging you by the arms."
"Dancy, I'm waiting..."
Sniff sniff drizzly eyes pouring some emotions out.
"Okay okay... You're distraught. Let me do it. I'm a cunt for funding this whole ship of fools. I'm a cunt for trapsing after you for EIGHT years. I'm a cunt for not yanking out my money two years ago."
"No..."
"Oh can it, Dancy! Why couldn't you have pulled this stunt the last time we were with the investors huh? Couldn't get your little face to well up and crank out some lovely little..."
"Pasha! Stop it!"
I plopped my ass down on the edge and crossed my leg over my knee to bobble a canvas shoe back and fourth. There wasn't much to say other than get a tiny bit of satisfaction from looking up at what was now the entire office lookin in on us. I picked at my cuticle for a bit before sliding off to pull the blinds shut. I poked my head out the door leaning on the frame. No one had really tolerated me the whole time I was trying to keep shit together. Some jackoff in the art department had made posters of me with a moustache and the words "Gay Russian Tyrant of the Year" to pass out. Asshole. They were well done and yes I had framed it, but still I fired him. I think he's still working at The Star putting together ads for the classifieds.
Looking looking looking... I slept with him, him, her boyfriend, her husband - wow what a bore.... No one liked me because I was the heavy, the one who came in and said that we were out of budget and had to cut back. no one wanted to hear that something had to be redone, reedited for the thousandth time... No one like the Russian because he made Dancy cry. Dancy was sweet and wonderful! Dancy will always take care of us, Russian be damned! Ah, my little darlings. Dancy spent all the money and it's all over. No notice, no time to scramble for jobs. You'll all be competing against each other in 2 weeks for the same fucking PA jobs for the A Channel movie of the week. I drew a finger out to tuck behind my ear and trace it along my neck. My eyes bugged out a little and I gagged out my tongue. A few hands went up to their throats. They probably thought I was going to kill Dancy, and too stupid to see that I was trying to show them they were all on the cutting block.
Whipping the door shut Dancy jolted and moaned. "Pasha, don't pull out the money yet. I need it to pitch again. I need to fly out Ron and Kenny to..."
"It's over Dancy. My money's gone and you're on the hook for the rest I floated to you. This is all over. We're all over. You either agree to this now, cut me a cheque and I walk out easy peasy or i stick so many lawyers up your ass you won't even have the money left to send the kids to community college in Sault Ste Marie for 6 months."
"After all this and you're out?"
"Bitch, I got into the finance files. We've been flatlining for a year and thowing money into an abyss of debt's not going to cut it. Ya lied to me and to the 30 people out there living a dream working for the nicest bosslady in dah whoooooole world!"
She said slumped down. "You're a mean cunt Pasha. I'll remember this."
"When?! When will you remember this? When you're paying me off in monthly installments into the next fucking century? I'm out of here. I'll have movers in tomorrow to get my desk out... Unless you wanted it?" I picked off a strip of cheap black paint from pre-fab design. Oops, I really yanked a big one off. I flickered the tips of my fingers to get the residue off.
"Just don't do anything stupid Dancy. It can get worse than this believe me. For every morself of spite against me that comes out of your mouth, I'll hear about it. Every time you curse my name, I'll hear about it. In fact, let's just shake on it now and agree that we should only be talking via lawyers and accountants."
I started for the door.
"Do you have something lined up already?"
"Damn right, i heard the ex hubby needed an assistant so I sent a resume... and voila! He always did like my coffee."
"Ugh.... out... OUT!"
I pulled a painting off her wall that I had bought. I walked out and left the door open.
"Dee Dee, call me a cab please... Oh and pass me that vase. That's mine. Thanks dear." I flicked my hand out, sending hundreds of tiny glass beads across the floor and slid it into my book bag that I left at the reception desk. The orchid in the vase - over priced and a perfect example of needless expense - jutted out of my bag. Naturally it had been moved and rooted through while i was in with Dancy, whatever. Good thing I had my porno rentals from last night sitting in there. I had a thing for gangbangs so hopefully it didn't disturb them.
Everyone was still still in their work areas looking at me. Dancy was still crying in her office. They looked relieved that I hadn't killed her, although no one had even got up to check.
Snatching up a few more pictures and a jar of pens to pour into my bookbag they looked so sad and silent. I pulled my office door shut and locked up.
"The dream is over people! I hear Drudellbelle's is hiring a night manager!!!" Dru's being the sammich and coffee bar down in the lobby of the office building. I laughed and went out the door as I shook my bag waiting to hear the noice of my spray paint can. One arm looped around the art and the other holding up a shoulder to keep the bag steady. White halls. Pictures of documentaries we had done, movies, famous people we had to give verbal handjobs to all the time we worked with them. Dancy. Me. The awards that had stopped coming 5 years ago. Mounted news articles all bullshit. Clickaclickaclicka... pssssshhhhtt... pssssshhhhhhhttttt.... down the hall in a ragged line of drippy black paint... across our faces and history... down the flight of stairs to the side entrance door. I rattled the can again and scrawled out "Flee while you can little ones". I dipped my head down to push my sunglasses on. Wretched sunlight. I don't like doing business in the blinding times of midday, but the weather waits for no man. The cabbie waved at me and I mouthed one minute please. I blacked out my name on the door with a messy x and dropped the can where I stood. There. Now time to go home for a nosh and call that jerk face lawyer to get the ball rolling on formally ending a friendship and more importantly a failed financial venture. I hope they don't wreck my desk when they move it...

____________________
ah the good old times... what did northrup frye call it? the 'pastoral myth'? i love that.... reflecting back on everything through a fuzzy glaze. out with the screaming catfights, in with the love.
"Dancy, sit sit..."
glasses dropping from on top of her forehead onto a scalpel-carved button nose.
"what? oh god what did you do now? if you and Benson...."
"Chill baby, i PROMISE i won't sleep with him again." Lie lie lie because you can just say you were drunk and forgot.
"No, you son of a bitch I mean it!"
my hands up and arms wide open. "What? where's this hostility coming from? You're wasting my time you manic fucking midget SIT YOUR ASS..." scoop you up... you were managable before you popped a couple of kids out. shit i'd throw out a disc if i tried to do that now.
"down. Please." and into my plush highback office chair. swear to god this Danish banker had this thing for one week and died in it. auctioned for $2000 if you can even believe it. oh man i love that chair...
right.
"Sit down. Please."
Dancy squirmed and eventually retreated into the warm leather. what the fuck is it even made of? for all i know it's fucking orphan hides, but you can't stay mad in it. the equalizer on wheels.
"What what? I grow weary of this faggotry."
oh to have an hr department back then. i could have sued my way into retirement.
"We want to talk to you about the casting. and specifically..." I shook her by her hoodie in a desperate tone. "Andy made the decision! Not me! Not me!!"
Andy yanked me back.
"He lies!You know he's the final sign-off on hiring!"
We looked down at her very grey complexion with that smothery eye glaze from getting stoned and drunk at 10AM on Sunday morning until work the next day. tendonitis flared from flickety-clicks playing minesweeper and soduku puzzles.... all fuelled by and angry and solitary coke binge. well i was just guessing since that's what she did the last time things turned south with Son of a Cunt. I mean, i was living with Dancy then so that's what I remembered her doing. snarl snarl snarl! don't touch my shit! did you finish my puzzle? the answers are all wrong! blah blah cry cry... the usual female bullshit when dealing with actor flings.
"Dancy..." I smoothed my hand on her sweater. "We hired Alton for the movie..." Alton being her male alter ego in some intellect-wank piece we were shooting for Canadian tv. see, we got a grant... and then we moved to the states and spent the money there... and there was this TO-DO and we had to make something in Canada etc etc and lawyers fees. that's about all i remember of that.
"What? Andy! Pasha! You promised you'd get someone perfect for the role..."
shoe stares. i need to take andy shopping for something new. seriously.
Andy goes first. "We did."
Son of a Cunt came over to the apartment when Andy and I were wrist deep into a bag of pot we just bought.
"Who's that? At this hour?"
"Dee, it's 7pm. What time do you think it is?"
"Oh... Hang on I'll go get the intercom."
"Uh, hello?"
"Can I come up?" We scampered over to the window to peek down to the front door. a tizzy of stoned fear and thumping pulses...
"Soc-ee?"
"Soc? You know... the first letters of... the name."
"Gotcha."
"Hello? Are you guys there?"
"Shit!" Back to the other side of the room.
"Look! We don't want any trouble!"
stiffled laughter.
"What? I'm not mad! I want to come up..."
"Sure you do! You'll come up here and shoot the joint up and..."
"Andy, your finger's not on the intercom button."
"Oh. Look dude, leave us alone."
"Pasha! You're both there... Listenlistenlisten! i just want a little time... i want to audition."
Stunned. We hadn't found anyone to play Alton. No one. I was thisclose to getting Dancy dressed up in drag to play her fucking dream role.
Up he came... Lord! He dyed his hair black. that's so cute. it's the little details.
He smiled and sat across from us on the couch. he fumbled through a messenger bag. and yes i thought he was going to whip out a gun or something to whip our asses or something. ah. nothing.
Plop. A script on the table.
"I know about the movie. I know you two can't fill the role. This is the only thing that's shooting that's not some cop drama for the cbc! all i hear from people is that you're being particularly picky..."
I picked up the script. this was over 4 revisions old. man, some of this shit was long cut out... I opened it up to the particularly le barf scene of a soliloquy out in algonquin park.
"Go for it jackass. Start from the top and keep going." Just one casual look and bang! down went the script. Cheeky prick! He went and memorized it. It was good... well, as good as something so trite can get. fuck you government funding auditors...
Andy finally stopped him 30 minutes in... he had kept on going and did a fine little job on the terrible dream sequence with Pierre Trudeau. Maybe we shouldn't have cut it.
"Enough... fuck... we... we..." Andy looked at me. those eyes. those eyes saying "WE GOT NOTHING! THIS COULD BE ONE GOOD THING IN A SHIMMERING 90 SEGMENT OF SHIT.
"We can't pay much... There was this lawsuit, see."
"I know... just... I need the work. this isn't a fuck you to Dancy. I want this part and i'll do anything to just... work around the problems. ok? you have my word."
"You're hired...." He stood up to shake my hand. "PENDING!! Pending final approval from my business partner. Don't play daft boy. We'll persue it but I'm not going to promise."
"Pay me a retainer to stay on board until you decide or i will take the lead on Mr. Pogo's Craft Time as Teal Helper." Cheek. What nerve!
"Bullshit. I KNOW Mr. Pogo's won't hire Craft Helpers without criminal background checks Senior Bouncy Cheque-o..."
Gulp.
"Don't bluff me cocksucker. Hold your roll and I'll get back to you."
Phew. "I can't process this. I say let's smoke this shit until we black out and talk to Dancy on the fly. We deal well with this on-your-feet stuff."
"Pasha..."
"Ah ah... not one word. We'll manage." Already I devised that i would make it look like Andy forced the issue. Match point.
Dancy slumping over.
"Don't even... you hired Son of a... yeah... oh that son of a bitch."
"You're taking this... well?"
"I told you it's the chair. we just need to keep her in it for... for like forever i guess..."
-----------------------

Friday, November 10, 2006

before/after

pre-solomon cocktail party:




post-solomon cocktail party:

Thursday, November 2, 2006

feel it closing in... the in the out the in the out the in the out....

Michael says:

MOW

snarky galore says:

boys

snarky galore says:

do you recognize my msn pic?

Michael says:

no

Michael says:

i thought it was nelly furtado

Michael says:

but then i realized it's a cougar

snarky galore says:

maude adams

Michael says:

ahhhh

Michael says:

i should have gotten that

Michael says:

she's octopussy

snarky galore says:

yes

Michael says:

is that a current pic?

snarky galore says:

NO

snarky galore says:

jesus

snarky galore says:

it's like from the 70s

Michael says:

i was gonna say... she looks great

snarky galore says:

she's a piece of the puzzle as to why you're gay

Michael says:

she certainly is!

snarky galore says:

yes j. knows

Michael says:

so... i'm not gonna go to guelph tonight

snarky galore says:

np

Michael says:

but tomorrow is a possibility

snarky galore says:

i'm so tired

Michael says:

there's a JH show

snarky galore says:

i'm oktoberfesting

Michael says:

tonight?

Michael says:

really?

snarky galore says:

tomorrow

Michael says:

again?

Michael says:

wow

snarky galore says:

there's an extra ticket

snarky galore says:

for me i mean

Michael says:

i remember now

snarky galore says:

so i'm going tomorrow

snarky galore says:

http://hingos.com/patches/strip/060802.gif

Michael says:

that's cute

snarky galore says:

i lurve that comic. i wish i could draw like that. the person is a really good artist so it kinda shows even though they're simple

Michael says:

kewl

Michael says:

so... no drinky drinky tonight?

snarky galore says:

what were your intentions

Michael says:

martinis

Michael says:

bond, probably

Michael says:

then maybe starlight if i can get andrew drunk enough to dance

snarky galore says:

phhhhhhphhht

snarky galore says:

don't force people to dance! dancing is for fags

snarky galore says:

wait...

Michael says:

he's a fag

snarky galore says:

uber-faggots

Michael says:

he needs to realize his dancing potential

snarky galore says:

NOT ALL HOMOS DANCE

it's a certain type. that being uber faggots and femmes

snarky galore says:

the remainder are happy to have a drink and then fuck the uber faggots or femmes

Michael says:

he'll dance if i tell him he can fuck my face

snarky galore says:

don't use up the fuck fantasy cards. hold out for better things that you want. he'll only dance if he's drop dead drunk, and if he's dropdead drunk he'll fall asleep during a bj

Michael says:

you'd be surprised

snarky galore says:

enough!

Michael says:

anyway... if we got to fahmi's for a bit would you come?

snarky galore says:

when?

Michael says:

i dunno... i gotta talk to him first

snarky galore says:

can we get some mother fucking liquor?

snarky galore says:

k

Michael says:

i was supposed to call after work

Michael says:

knowing him he's probably napping

snarky galore says:

touchee

Michael says:

and yes, we can get booooooooze

Michael says:

allright, i needs to make some calls

snarky galore says:

get back to me honcho

Michael says:

you're on the queue