A Book. An Ass. A Vision.*
Now it's everywhere.
Last night I had a panic attack. The executive's son at my company bought a copy of the Ass book. I didn't feel good about it. He's 14 or so. I thought he was too young.
"Don't get in trouble," I said.
"I won't," he said. "Sign it."
"Chase the Moon," I wrote. "Be the Sun."
The kid was thrilled. Not me though. I was pretty sure this was the end for me. One look at a book about Ass, and that might be my last day in television.
I guess that's a pretty stupid thought, huh?
Then comes one that supercedes all others. The Ass book isn't good enough. It needs work.
This might very well be true. It's a flawed book, but that was what it was all about. No changes. Who knows?
I think I'm feeling wretchedly strange because all I have read this last week is Charles Bukowski, and now I've watched 3 DVD's about him and, and it's all getting to be a bit much, and I keep asking, "What the fuck am I doing?"
It's a great moment of panic. Am I now the Ass guy? Will it be harder to get a date? Will I have to be a switch hitter?
"Oh, no," a guy at work tells me. "You're fucked on both ends."
I felt better this morning though. The book finally showed up on Borders and Amazon. (It's about time!) I will be dealing with the ftp to get Golden Ashtray images onto the database. Hopefully, it works this time.
"Anything else?" you ask.
I'm writing a book. What else?
I wonder what this one will be about. Maybe, sugar. Either that or gangsters. I like gangsters. I like the way they talk. They got that sideways thing.
"Ehllo," they say. "What's it to you?"
"A fig newton," I say. "With milk."
They bring it over pretty quick. I'm surprised. That was my first sideways talking. Usually, I just talk with my lips parallel. Not this time though. Now it was all sideways.
"Enything else, Boss?" one of them asks.
"Yeah," I say sideways. "I need potassium."
"Pa-what?" Jimmy, the Wrench asks.
"Bananas," I say.
The Wrench runs off. I sit there with my sideways talk. I count the money on the table. This being a gangster is easy. I just had to kill people and take their money, or scare them really bad. That was easy. And now I had Jimmy, the Wrench, getting me some Potassium. This wasn't a bad life.
"No, it isn't," one of my henchman agreed.
"Want a knuckle sandwich?" I asked.
"Nah," he said.
"Well, too late," I said and popped him in the mouth. "You got one."
For those of you who want to be on the credits for Clerks II, simply add the film as your friend on myspace. The first 10,000 friends will be added to the film.
Here is the link.
If you acted too late, there's always a bonus. You can check the credits for Why Do Men Do Stupid Things for Ass?
Have a nice weekend, P.
*Copyright 2006 by Pirooz Kalayeh