Don't hate me because I can drink four beers and a half-bottle of wine and not have a hangover. Here's a picture of Johnny to make up for it.
I've decided that a pic of Johnny will accompany all my posts for the forseeable future. I'm trying to increase my female readership. So, welcome, grrfrenz. Last night I was saying how when the husband dresses up as Jack Sparrow, it's friggin' eerie. Someone said, "Yeah, right." And then someone else said, "He really does look like Johnny." Boy was she sad she was going to miss the neighborhood Halloween Party. You can judge for yourself by viewing the film "Discretion" at right.
Last night was Bunco--I won 15 bucks and caught up on all the neighborhood gossip. I also had a bird flirt with me. "Hello, I taste like chicken." Her name is Bianca.
I also met a friend of a friend, a certain girl who knows my producer. (Heh, that sounds so important. My producer. Like I'm friggin' anybody.) I learned that my producer dressed goth in high school, dated two of her good friends, and some other tasty tidbits I'll hold back on for negotiation during script revisions.
I think I'm going as a hippie for Halloween. I have a fuscia tie die sarong to wear as a top over jeans and all my beads. Perhaps I'll post a pic.
Isn't International Sign Language for wanting to get laid "getting into bed nekked"? Whatever. It worked.
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