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The Questions People Ask Me. . .

First of all, imagine me shaking my head as I begin this.

As if it was not enough that I had just spent three hours on a tech scout, then ran to switch DAT tapes for a sound transfer, ran down the hallway to spend half an hour teaching an actress how to seem more like a deaf person, sit through a thirty minute production meeting where Tim failed to acknowledge that I am a girl, then when he actually did, he had me read the part of the slutty drunk girl who thinks she has a weight problem, after that back to teaching the actress a little more sign language, I went outside to have a smoke with some folks, and Greg turns to me and asks, "I have to make a bathroom look like a shitty gas station bathroom. You wouldn't happen to have one of those metal things you put on the wall, you know that like, they put condoms in?"

No, Greg, I don't happen to have a condom dispenser just lying around my house. Sorry.


I apologize for the tremendously long run-on sentence. I am a bit tired.

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Anonymous said…
hrmmmmmmmmmmmmm

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