Geez, Grizz #666

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It's been awhile since I've written and after this weekend I thought
I'd give you readers the pleasure of spending a weekend with me, Ze
Grizz.

Did you ever have a weekend or simply a day in your life where when
the sun has finally set and when you survey what you've accomplished
over 24 hours you just shake your head because there is no reason why
that should have happened? Maybe you won a prize or found a bargain at
Foley's. Perhaps you fell into a romantic interlude that was
completely unexpected.

Well my life is zany and it is filled with those kinds of days because
of several reasons:

1. I'm up for anything and I love to do things on a whim.
2. I attract danger and romance.
3. I'm single and I don't own a dog, which means I can disappear for a
few days without completely screwing up my life.
4. I don't have any morals.

The combination of those four and the simple fact that I received my
nickname based on my life's mantra "If you're going to be a bear, be a
grizzly". That attitude has caused me more grief and more fun than you
will ever hope to imagine.

So let me take you on a journey with me and follow what a typical
"what-are-you-doing-this-weekend" phone call can lead to once combined
with the four tenants of my life.

Last week I receive a call from my old buddy Adrian. Adrian is a wacky
Latino with a penchant for buggery and can cause fun from all angles.
Adrian and I worked for a really super television company called FOX.
We no longer work together so Adrian and I usually hang out once every
2 or 3 months and it usually ends in hijinx or at least a split lip.
Our friendship would be frowned upon by mama; she would call him "a
bad influence."

He had just returned from a trip to Paris with his old lady where he
witnessed a man verbally abuse his wife to the point that she rolled
into a ball and sucked her thumb, on the subway. Ah, sweet Paris.

So big A tells me that he's off on Friday, and would like to go watch
some UFC style fights downtown. Since we are both very familiar with
the concept of not paying for shit, I make a few phone calls with a
disguised voice and secure us some press credentials.

We get drunk and act the fool all night.

The next day A realizes that he has left his phone at my house. He
returns for it and immediately begins drinking the rest of the whiskey
and chides me until I join. Once we were good and drunk we headed off
for more early afternoon debauchery that I will skip ahead for
everyone's sake but it's safe to say that we partied hard enough for
the activity to land somewhere between popping uppers and killing an
ex-wife on the sin scale.
Feeling like kings we returned to my place where a few more friends
had shown up for a fun Saturday night. Once again we headed downtown
to meet up with foxy women. Of course I run afoul of a girl I never
want to see again and we delightfully argue for a while until I end up
playing ping pong somehow with some girls who may or may not have been
prostitutes. One of them later asks me for drugs I don't have and when
I tell her I don't have them she sits on my lap and then leans in and
really really asks for them. I decide it's time to scram and on the
way out Adrian knocks over everything in his path.

Back at the apartments a few impromptu fights break out between the
boys and as usual furniture, faces, and egos are all bruised. We walk
over to the pool area and I try and make time with some deaf girls.
Deaf girls love a guy that can slowly spell the alphabet. My roommate,
Mike Muscle as he calls himself, talks shit to some really big guy and
I have to go keep this Texas rugby player from busting his grape.

(I'd like to take this brief moment to explain Mike Muscle. Mike has
many monikers and just to prepare you I may refer to him as any of the
following: Mike Muscle, Muscle Mike, Mike Mussel, Shotgun Sheikh,
Popgun Sheikh, Lil Mike and lastly "my latchkey kid")

Moving on, back at the house one of our party…Josh…realizes that he
can't find his wallet. Now Josh just paid for our cab so we know he
had it with him. He searches the house and car and since everyone was
wrestling earlier and the furniture is a mess we decide to find it in
the morning.

The next morning we search hi and low. We turn my house upside down
and retrace our steps from the earlier night. Josh confides to me that
there was $1,000 in cash in that wallet for the kayak he had planned
to buy this morning. The stakes have changed. Now I really feel for
the guy and we spend about an hour or so and talk to the girls in the
front office just in case any of the douche bags that live around me
are honest. Josh calls the cab company and they haven't seen his
wallet. All hope is lost.

Later we decide to take a trip out on the lake. Josh assures me that
foxy women will be on that boat. As we are about to leave Josh opens
my silver wear drawer and lo and behold, there is his wallet.

What the fuck?

I give Josh a well earned high five and now with our spirits lifted we
guzzle a few beers and head out to the lake. Sure enough there were
some foxes on the boat. LSU, Arizona Wildcats and worse are all being
represented. Of course water and booze make the Grizz very happy so
I'm doing my special brand of comedy that no human being can resist.
We are all laughing and having a whale of a time when I cannonball off
the boat and lose my sunglasses.

Until this year I've never worn sunglasses because I've always felt
like a douche but this year I relented. You see, my hot friend Joy
gave them to me. She thought they looked better on me and I have to
admit they immediately fit me well. Silver and mirrored they allowed
me to keep an eye on my enemies and more importantly I can stare at
breast without detection. Plus a hot girl gave them to me and that
means a lot. You never want to lose something a hot girl gives you
unless it's a baby or something.

Anyway I'm immediately crestfallen. Josh and I abandon our floaties
and head down in the murky deep to see if we can find them. Of course
since it's a lake and muddy and shit we have no chance. Visibility is
at about 4 inches. We both dunk down a couple of times and come up
empty. I'm in near tears. Now I have to stare all the girls in the
face. FUCK.

Josh and I are discussing this and then he tells me about a girl he
went home with on Thursday night. It seems a local high school teacher
was just drunk enough to stomach Josh and she took him home. We
discuss his adventure crudely, as men are want to do, and all the
while another boat draws closer. You see, the big thing to do at the
lake is to tie up boats together so that other drunken strangers can
look at your friend's boobs. We decide to look for the glasses one
more time before the boat ends up in the area where they were lost.

We surface, empty handed of course. The boat is now within feet from
us so we offer to help buoy and tie it up. One buoy comes over, then
another. In typical Grizz fashion I holler to the captain of the
vessel: "what kind of women did you bring us". The guy finds this
amusing and one by one his female companions show their face.

Josh blanches.

One lady is the teacher that he had carnally consorted with only a few
days earlier. I'm ecstatic. I go under to keep from laughing openly.
Josh is forced to talk to her but after a few more beers he seems
pretty calm. Her boat is filled with fellow teachers. One was a high
school teacher with fake tits and braces. I can't imagine what her
students think. Actually I can imagine what they think; it's what I
was thinking! Anyway they are booming regaetton music while she shakes
her ass. It's the boat that everyone on the lake makes fun of but
ironically if you're drunk enough; it's the boat you always want to be
on.

By now I've gotten the rapt attention of about 15 or so people. I'm
telling jokes, making wisecracks about society and the like. People
seem to be enjoying my exuberance until I start arguing with one of
the foxes. I can't really remember how it started but somehow I
drunkenly segued into a stirring speech that would have made Patton
and Edward James Olmos cry.

While it wasn't funny, I did have everyone listening and as I began
to get to my main point I yelled to them "NEVER GIVE UP" "NEVER EVER
GIVE UP" "I LOVE MY FRIEND JOY AND SHE GAVE ME SOMETHING THAT SITS AT
THE VERY BOTTOM OF THIS LAKE AND I WILL BE GODDAMNED IF IT WON'T BE ON
MY FACE WHEN I LEAVE!!!"

And to really drive my point home dramatically, I threw aside my
floatie and dove down into the muddy depths.

I shit you not, 30 seconds later I shoved up my right hand with my
mirrored sunglasses in hand. The response was indescribable; everyone
there went ape-shit. I was mobbed in the water. In a million years I
couldn't pull that off again. I wear contacts so I can't open my eyes
and god knows you'd never want to in that water.



Josh and I embraced. We had both come so close to losing that what's
closest to us. We had looked fate in the eye and said "not today sir,
I will not be fortune's fool". It felt so good. I looked back to
Thursday, back to when Adrian had first made that call "what are you
doing this weekend?" I realized then and there that next time I got
that call; I would screen it and just go to see a romantic comedy with
a human girl.

Jeez, Grizz #5 (California Dreamin' Edition)

Well it's me the Grizz and I just got back from my first visit to
California. For the first 26 years of my life I'd been to such exotic
locals as Mobile, Fayetteville and Des Moines.

If that sounds funny to you that I haven't been well traveled, it will
sound funnier when I slap your ears for mocking me for growing up
poor.

Anyway I've never really been all that concerned about California…but
in the past few years some friends have moved out there and have
extolled the virtues of San Diego, L.A and San Francisco.

I had to attend a wedding for my best friend since childhood so I
figured, screw it, why not tour the whole state?

So I started in San Diego where I spent most of my time with old
friends and family and dodged all the Mexicans that were running
around. Actually they weren't Mexicans but Dominicans, Cubans and the
Japanese. The World baseball tournament was in town and they were
crawling all over the place with their flags and cowbells and all that
crap.

San Diego was beautiful but my wedding duties kept me out of too much trouble.

While saying goodbye to the newlyweds we decided to have lunch and
drink some beers at the pier in Oceanside.

I had just put away about a six pack of Coors original and we decided
to walk out on the pier. As we sauntered along I see this guy suddenly
stand up on the side of the fence and I elbow my buddy "is this guy
going to jump?"

Sure enough off he goes and we all run over there as people are
converging to see what's going on. The lifeguards race down the pier
and swim out to him and he's swatting at them and yelling "don't help
me!" Everyone is all in a tither and yelling "he's trying to kill
himself".

Well, like I said I had drunk a few beers and I felt it best to start
yelling things like "YOU FAILED AT THIS TOO!" and "YOU COULD'T EVEN
MAKE A BIG SPLASH DUMBASS!!"

Several onlookers were aghast that I would say such things to a
troubled individual but honestly, who tries to kill themselves by
doing a cannonball? He's a woman in my book, besides there was a
perfectly good train station one block away where he could have done
himself in rather easily if he wasn't such a pussy.

Next I was in Irvine for a few days visiting some of my gal pals. The
girls had to work so I spent my days frolicking on Orange County
beaches looking for Marissa and more importantly Marissa's mom, Julie
Cooper.



When I got to LA later that week it took me approximately 15 minutes
to have my first run-in with the LAPD. I got physically removed from
the Mercedes Fashion Week show. I made a couple of attempts to sneak
in with a camera but the cops came and dragged me out. While I was
calling them pussies on the way out the door I thought I recognized a
little girl but wasn't sure. Later I realized it was Francis Bean.

Hey Francis, I know a guy on a pier in Oceanside that should borrow
your dad's shotgun.

Once in San Francisco I had run out of cash. Spending money in
California is very easy to do. I had a few $19 burgers that tasted
like cat food and ass. So the last day I had lunch with my ex
girlfriend in Chinatown and headed to the train station. It was
raining so she gave me her umbrella, I tried to tell her I didn't need
it but she refused so I took it and my all my luggage and lumbered
down to the train station.

The guy at the ticket counter told me which train to take to the
Oakland airport. I hopped aboard but when I got off at the station,
there weren't any planes. I asked if I was in the wrong spot but the
lady told me that I needed to take a shuttle bus to the airport. Cost?
2 dollars.

Now I have one dollar in my pocket. One dollar. I look down at my
dying cell phone and call my buddy Nathan in Oakland but I get no
answer. I know he's at work anyway but it was worth a shot. My ex was
back in San Francisco at work and can't come get me. I've got no money
and there isn't an ATM within blocks.

I ask the train station employee if the airport is in within walking
distance and I get laughed at. I decide against asking a white person
for money since I've spent 4 days bitching about all the hobos and
bat-shit crazy homeless that have hit me up for change. I doubt that
anyone is going to give me money anyway since they deal with that shit
all the time.

I decide to walk 4 blocks in the rain, while dragging my entire
luggage, completely aware that I'm in OAKLAND where people can
sometimes be a little grabby.

So I get to the ATM and find out that I have $ 0 in my account. You
see I rented a PT Cruiser in LA (nothing says gay bear like a hairy
man like me in a PT Cruiser) and they required a $300 deposit which
had yet to be refunded to me.

So now I walk back to the train station completely fucked. I'm a
dollar short. The only friends I have in the bay area are unavailable
for at least 5 or so hours. My phone is about to die and I've got
about 30 minutes until I'll miss my flight and be screwed beyond
belief.

I'm standing outside my bus, wondering what I'm going to do when a
lady walks up to the bum next to me and asks him "How do I get to the
airport". He says "Give me two bucks and I'll give you a ticket"

I'm stunned at her question since the bus driver is 3 feet from her
and she just walked out of a train station where a good 6 employees
were but she's going to ask Toothless Old Zeke for a ticket. She looks
over at me and say's "should I trust him?" I nod and then she gives
him 2 bucks and he pulls out a dozen train tickets and gives her one.
I realize that this guy must go around digging through the trash to
get tickets with leftover money on them.

I approach him and say "say how about an umbrella for a bus ticket".
He looks over at my umbrella on my adidas bag and says. "Nah I'm
good". I try harder…."come on brother check it out, it's raining and
you ain't gonna stay dry...perfectly good umbrella".

He pulls out the umbrella and looks at it like its Excalibur. He pours
over every detail and angle and I take it and open it for him. He nods
and gives me a 3 dollar bus ticket.

I quickly grab my bags and get on the bus. The bus driver just
witnessed all this and so when I hand him the ticket he stares at it
for a minute then puts it in. Bingo. I'm on my way back to Austin
bitches.

Basically I had to hustle a hobo to get home. I had never felt more
like a man. The irony of all my whining about bums was not lost. I
would never say another unkind word about our flea ridden train
hopping newspaper blanketed friends.

Jeez, Grizz #4

Dear Journal,

Today was $1 margarita day at El Arroyo, or "the ditch" for all you
gringos. El Arroyo isn't the most sought after cuisine in Austin, more
of an afterthought, but they do have the most witty daily updated sign
out front. Anyway, on Thursdays they buckle up and offer dollar
margaritas that cater to the college crowd and old drunks like myself.

Speaking of my drinking I've really tapered off in the past year. I've
been with the love of my life for 12 years now and I've finally
decided that she, sweet lady booze, just isn't worth it anymore. When
you weigh 230 lbs and you've been drinking for over a decade it just
becomes a sloppy, dirty, costly monster of a habit. So nowadays I just
drink once or twice every other week. The only problem is that I still
think that I can hold my booze. So before it took 7 or so drinks just
to get my sea legs, and now I drink 7 and I think that I can pilot the
Challenger.

So my new habit is to go to dollar margarita night, alone, and try and
get some writing done while staying under a weekly booze budget of 10
dollars. What are you writing, Grizz, you may ask. Something in between
Mad Libs and Penthouse letters if you must know. Anyway tonight I had
a few lime/tequila dream bombs and then I decided to go get my clothes
back from some broads. Innocently enough, I left a sport coat at one
girl's house and a belt at another girl's house.

One girl is not my cup of tea whatsoever. I barely know her and
somehow I left my prized Oscar dela Renta sport coat at her house
during a "coat check" at her party. The other broad is more palatable,
still not really my speed, but she enjoys some of the same things I do
and is more tolerable in the looks department. She's been eyeing me
for a while and since I gave up on life and love a long time
ago....I'm game for whatever.

Anyway I talk the one gnarly into leaving my coat on her porch (so we
didn't have to speak) and I met the other girl at a dog park, pet her
dumb ass pooch and then got my belt back.

Feeling the highs of accomplishment without effort, I was driving home
when I got a text message: "I FORGOT TO ASK, WHAT ARE YOU DOING
TONIGHT"

The dog park was very public and I knew that this broad was
embarrassed to make plans in front of strangers so I texted her back
and forth for a while until we decided on a time and a place to meet
for dinner.

Now as I said before this chick is good looking and has similar
interests, but the only reason that I'm going is that I have nothing
else to do and the OC jumped the shark awhile back so Thursdays are
perfect for hanging around women. So I take a shower and put on my
prized sport coat and head back out.

I show up a little late to the restaurant, all full of myself and
tequila and when I walked in the door I took a few steps and looked
around and then I heard "Grizz".

I turn around and there is the first girl. The lesser of the two.
She's sitting alone at a table for two and says "you're late"

I'm confused

I stare at her for a second and say "what are you doing here?"

She shakes her head and says "are you ever serious?"

I laugh nervously and tell her I have to pee

I go to the bathroom and desperately search through my text messages.

That fucking tequila tricked me; I had been talking to the wrong girl
for 2 hours.



So basically I spent $$ and wasted 2 hours of my life and broke a
life-long family tradition. My brother and I have always sworn that we
would never appear in public with anything but a STAR (a girl
completely out of our league.)

Of course I saw like 5 people I know and they looked at me like I was
eating with my cousin or something.


THE END

Canada And Its Moustaches And Passion

Every once in a while I watch something that shakes me to my core. I've watched this video three times and I still can't believe it. Your turn. Courtesy of the 1987 Calgary Flames - the most embarrassing thing in hockey history.

Tony

The Whiteys: NBA White Guy Awards, Part One

I was going through the inordinate amount of sports cards I have, from back when I rode the cardboard horse in the early 90's, and while almost all the players and styles look funny to me now, nothing looked quite as ridiculous as the white guys. Not all of them, mind you. But most of them. Additionally, I don't know where they got their photos back then, but whoever snapped them either had a knavish sense of humor or didn't give the card companies much to choose from, because they really caught people in some unflattering poses. So unflattering in some cases that it makes it seem as if some chromosomes had gone temporarily missing. I pulled out enough cards that a complete celebration of the NBA White Guy became possible. Here's to awkward and missed high fives everywhere.

The Silver Mullet Awards

Let's kick this off right, with the easiest to mock hair style of all time. Glamourized in fine films like Joe Dirt, and reaching such a popularity that not long ago a certain website was able to sell themed calendars, the mullet is certainly an easy and popular target. But there's something special, and I don't know, downright righteous about an NBA player having one. Let's begin shall we?

Mike Gminski

Mike obviously spent some time on his hair, a common theme among Duke graduates, who may need that attention to grooming for that job at daddy's bank. Not only did he have a great mid-range jumper, he knew his way around one of these. I feel pretty confident in saying that if there had been a Color Me Badd at the dawn of the age of Man, Mike would've fit in real nice. He gets bonus points for having visible brush lines on the business end of his mullet. I don't actually have a point system, but he gets three bonus points anyway. He's a broadcaster now, so grooming will be forever a part of his life.

Scott Roth



I don't remember Scott Roth as a player, but I can tell you that being guarded by Scottie Pippen, as in the picture above, is as close as he ever got to a ring. They sometimes call the mullet "Camaro Hair," and he surely looks like he's driven one. He also looks like the kind of guy who listened to Priest as he picked on smaller, weaker kids, and the mullet is the birthright of such a person. He's currently serving time in Wisconsin for hate crimes or animal torture, whichever you find more humorous.


Brad Davis




I am really glad Brad is named Brad, because he's such a Brad. Brad actually is up for more than one Whitey, that's how powerful his fashion mojo is. Since Mike Judge is from Texas, I find it extremely suspicious that Brad resembles both Todd from Beavis & Butthead, and Boomhauer from King of the Hill. Just look at him -- he's practically bumming a smoke from you.

Joe Wolf



Joe evidently had one move, and you are seeing it. I think he may have picked it up at the Special Olympics. Those rainbow Lego Nuggets uni's don't help his uncoolness one bit. His mullet style is far from extraordinary, kind of like a regular haircut with extensions at the back. I think Michael Keaton must have had this same do at some point. Joe probably has his eye trained on a squirrel right now.

Dwayne Schintzius



The clear winner of the Silver Mullet Award has got to be Dwayne Schintzius. He was sort of the Brian Bosworth of the NBA; an ornery, cocky son of a bitch who overstayed his welcome almost immediately. It's said that his response to "How's the weather up there?" was to spit on the inquisitor and then reply, "It's raining." He was also involved in one of the more disturbing off-court happenings you'll ever hear. He was hanging out with another real son of a bitch, Jayson Williams, who bet him that he couldn't drag his pet Rottweiler "Zeus" (did EVERYONE watch Magnum PI??) out of the house. As the story goes, Dwayne won the bet, and Williams reaction was to not only not pay up, but to blow the dog's head off and then make Dwayne take care of the mess. This might be the only time Shinbone is a sympathetic character in an anecdote.



Anyway, the former Gator is sporting a high fashion badass mullet. Only badasses can pull this one off. Look how it fans out menacingly, not unlike a cobra, warning lesser creatures to stay out of his path. Nature has a pecking order, and Schintzius was no fool when he selected this hair style. Today he is a professional wrestler, or has at least considered becoming one at some point.

Next up: Spastic Poses

Jeez, Grizz #3

Where was I? Oh yeah, accosted by Busey. Gary arrives on the set and at first everyone is excited.

The extras were all excited because another celebrity was coming on set, granted most of them were confused when he showed up. I heard a few "that's not him" remarks which caused me to shake my head "you're thinking of Nick Nolte, you blowhole"

Gary's first day was fairly uneventful from my standpoint. Except that he demanded more chairs for his trailer. Several chairs arrived and they just weren't enough. I believe 8 - 10 chairs were brought in. Why? Who the hell knows ...no one was going into that trailer. Might as well move to Beartrap Island, much safer.

"...Excuse me Mr. Busey can I ask you a question? Take a seat? Ok thanks, listen can you tell me just what went wrong with your son's television show Shasta McNasty?"

From what I understand, Busey only had one line...a cameo if you will, so I was surprised to see him on the set the next day. It would be fair to say that the climate had changed. None of the crew was really smiling and it was obvious that fear had set in. In between takes Busey would literally charge up to people and shout commands or questions. The main cast had distanced themselves somewhat from him because of his erratic behavior.

He had only been on the set a few minutes when one of the main cast and the director walked over to one of the camera ops, who was a former marine. "Hey did you ever have hand to hand combat?" "Sure." "We may need you."

They were laughing when they said it, but a few days later no one was laughing.

Now I am of the opinion that he is truly disturbed but at the same time it can be a bit calculative. One second he's running around hollering and acting the fool and the next second he's delivering his lines brilliantly. I guess my point is that as long as the camera is rolling he's professional grade, once the lights are off he's bat-shit crazy.

We broke for lunch and now things got really interesting.

I was sitting at a table reading the sports page. By now I'd had my fill of just about everyone on the set and I was just interested in staying warm. Busey storms out of his trailer and walks over to where the rest of the extras are sitting by the portable heaters.

The next 4 minutes was one of the most bizarre sequences I've ever seen.

But let me back up. Remember the kid that would act all slimy and look at you sideways when you talked to him? Well a few days earlier he got in my car during one of the colder nights so we could enjoy the heater while on break. He asked if I wanted to see his "honey." I didn't, but as in most socially awkward moments I complied, and he showed me a photo on his camera of a cute young girl. "Isn't this that chick that was on the set yesterday?"

He said yes, apparently she was the daughter of one of the make-up artist and that he'd known her for years. He told me that she'd been going through some weird shit and had been skipping school because she had no ride and that he was hoping he could start giving her a ride to school. I pointed out that you'd have to be half a fag to want to drive a 15-year-old to school when you are a 23-year-old man. He backtracked and said he's just her friend, never mind 2 minutes ago she was his "honey".

Fast-forward a few days and this chick shows up on the set and I see her mom get all bent out of shape. Apparently the girl rode to the set with some dude she knew and the mom wasn't happy about it. I overheard the mom going "you're 18 years old and she's only 15". It didn't look good for the kid but he seemed nonplussed.

So back we go to the 4-minute sequence.

Busey walks over to the extras and as soon as he gets over there a burst of flame comes off of one of the portable heaters. I don't know what happened but a ball of fire is around the heater and Busey drops his soup and sandwich and takes off like wild dingoes are at his heels. The rest of the extras scream and scatter; I spot a propane tank right behind the fire and run over and kick it out of the way and start kicking dirt all over the flames.

Some camera man spots me and does some dirt kicking too and soon the blaze is out and we stomp out all the grass that has caught fire.

Before I can even digest what just happened Busey starts yelling "Where's Paul? Where’s Paul?"

A few extras point to the sideways talker whose name is Paul but when Busey gets up to him he says "Are you the guy who brought the girl to the set today?" Instead of just saying no this Paul squeaks "No...it’s him, and I was mad at him earlier" and points to the young kid that was getting yelled at by the mom.

Busey storms over "ARE YOU PAUL?" ...."yes" the kid says and Gary grabs him by the arm and drags him about 10 feet away and starts in on his ass. He's berating this kid (two inches away from his face, just like he speaks to everyone) and I begin to worry that this small dude is going to get his ass kicked by Busey. The kid is profusely apologizing and I'm not sure what is going to happen.

The female P.A. that babysits all the extras gets spooked and runs off to get help. I don't think that help will arrive in time, so I walk over and stand about a foot behind Gary. At this point I'm fully expecting to break up a fight with GARY BUSEY and possibly have my own fight with him. Now it might be a good time to point out that I'm 6'3, 230lbs, so I didn't find Gary to be physically intimidating, but his antics put him in the category of the monkeys I discussed earlier.

Gary may disembowel me.

My adrenaline was going pretty good and I was nearly swooning from the notion that I might be on The Smoking Gun within 24 hours, and just as soon as it started Gary just turned and took off. The kid pulled out a cigarette and tried to put on a face that didn't convey "I just made a mudslide in my pants." He thanked me for standing by and then walked off shaking his head.

I envy the fact that he will be able to tell his kids that he was once berated by the star of Point Break.

A few hours later we are back in business and Gary is at it again. He's holding a big fake rock, and when cut is yelled he tries to dribble it. Then he runs over and yells something at someone, and then he runs over towards us and throws the rock at us. I sidle over to the wardrobe guy that's been following him around for two days. "So how's it going?"

The guy slowly turns to me and with the most sincere deadpan face he says, "This has been the most amazing thing I've ever witnessed." I look back and see Gary screaming at the producer, Brad Wyman (Monster). "WE'VE GOT A BIG PROBLEM!" Brad just stares off into space and puffs on a cigar. It seems that blowhard psychotic actors can be handled the same way you handle your average bum. By ignoring them.

Later it starts to come to a head. The A.D. announces that this will be the final shot of the night. Gary loses his shit and starts screaming "DON'T SAY THAT! DON"T SAY THAT!" He calls the A.D. unprofessional and at this point I look around see that everyone is stiff as a board. The atmosphere on this set had been so fun loving for weeks, and now in one day everyone is on eggshells.

I have a grin a mile long.

Finally the A.D. starts whispering to people that when this scene is over...go home. Gary had definitely worn out his welcome and they were just going to leave his ass there no matter what he says.

The next day was the last day of shooting, and we did fight scenes in front of a green screen in a studio. This was the day that the Amazons arrived: 8 women all of whom were over 6'0 tall.

Two of them I would have started a war over.

It was like Disneyland for a man like myself. Hell it was Disneyland for everyone -- Amazon women in bikinis running around. Busey's still there acting a fool. Suddenly the extras were getting all sorts of attention and special treatment.

One more thing of note: The bad guys were also on the set, the guys who fight my cave buddies. I have a little story to tell.

A few months ago I had guzzled some booze and me and the boys were going to the bar. Me, my buddy Adrian and my roommate Lil Mike. We found a prime parking spot but before we could park some big dude was standing in the spot. I waved for him to move and this guy just stood there talking on his cell phone. I told Adrian to make him scram and Adrian rolls down his window and tells him to move. Guy still doesn't budge so I jump out and since I've been drinking I tell him this isn't the lunch line and you can't just save your spot.

He tells me his boys are on his way and I give him a "fuck your boys" and we go back and forth and finally he sees things my way and moves. We park and laugh in his face and get to drinking. For the rest of the night he stares at me until I walk over and give him a hand gesture to let him know I don't love him.

So the last night on the movie I get dressed in my caveman getup and prepare for the battle scenes. I think you know where this is going; of course this big bastard is one of the bad guys. We laugh and make up and discuss the error of our ways. He tells me he was holding the spot for his wife. Then he takes his shirt off and this dude is probably 300lb and most of it is muscle. I silently thank God for not letting me die that night and I look at his skull tattoos.

Later they "wrap" Gary. Everyone claps and instead of shaking hands and leaving like David Carridine and the rest of the cast did. Gary leaps onto a ladder and gives a barely coherent speech about how he fell in love with everyone and he wouldn't be where he was without people like us and basically talked a bunch of nonsense while everyone prayed for him to leave.

At the wrap party everyone got drunk and told stories that are even better than what I've shared with you. They were just a little too specific, and I promised not to "out" them on the internet. Buy me a drink sometime and I'll tell you who banged who on the set and how David Carridine got drunk on absinthe and went around nearly naked demanding to keep his costume.

All in all it was a great experience. I went from not knowing who the director, Adam Rifkin, was to having much respect for him. Besides he told me the entire plot to the "He-Man" movie he wrote that will be directed by John Woo. By the power of Greyskull I'll never tell what I know.

So now I'm on to the next project and hopefully I'll get some actual lines next time. I implore you to see this caveman comedy when, or if, it's released because daddy should be all over it and we all want to support Tom Hodges don't we?

If you are a casting director and you'd like to have me write a gossipy catty column about your movie just let me know.

Grizz

Oh, and one more thing. at the wrap party I approached Gary and told him that I was so inspired by him on Celebrity Fit Club that I went out and lost 100 lbs and it changed my life. He told me I made his day and gave me a big hug and said he loved me. We laughed together well into the night.

Great Moments In Modern Obituary History

This is from my home town newspaper. I like this lady, too bad she's dead.

Tony

Jeez, Grizz #2

Well the caveman comedy has wrapped and it's for me to fill you in on how the whole thing went down.

Initially I was very skeptical of the comic validity of this film. As the days wore on however there were some scenes that had me laying on the floor laughing which doesn't mean a thing really but it gives me some hope.

We watched an outtake reel at the wrap party and I laughed a lot during it and was surprisingly relived to see that it looked more low budget than I even expected, in a good way. Reminded me of all of those old low budget movies you'd see on "USA up all night" with Rhonda Shear or Gilbert Gottfried. I think this movie will play better that way.

Along the way I ended up befriending most of the cast and crew so I suppose I won't be as hard on them as I was in my first post but don't worry. There are plenty of people to be clowned so you'll get your share of Grizz justice soon enough.

People have asked me "Grizz, what does a caveman do during caveman times" well the answer is simple friends. He hunts, battles, sits by a fire and bonks ho's on the head with his club.

The majority of my time on this film was spent sitting around a fire freezing my applebag off because we didn't wear pants. I have an extreme appreciation now for what women go through wearing skirts. If you're not careful...you'll catch someone eyeballing your crank and it's never who you want to eyeball your crank. Also, you'll find that the "business district" can get very cold very quickly and now I understand why women are always cold. I was born in Wisconsin and grew up in the harsh bitter winters of Amarillo but I was weeping toward the end of this film. It got so cold and rough that at one point we were so desperate that all the men were nearly arm and arm around a fire, just looking to survive.

David Carridine isn't as impressive as an acting giant when he's huddled next to you with chattering teeth mumbling expletives.

I know I know, everyone just wants me to get to the goods about Ron Jeremy but the fact is he's just a really nice guy. Lots of dick jokes, sure but other than that he's pretty vanilla. He did show up with what would be considered a girlfriend I guess and she was too young for me and I'm 29. I think Ronnie-boy is in his fifties. Good for him I guess but what the hell is she thinking. It would be one thing to go after a noted playboy like Warren Beatty. Sure he's been around the block but he's still got some power...this is like picking up a dick you found in the river Ganges.

Tom Arnold also made an appearance. What to say, Tom is a mercurial man. Some love him, some hate him. Personally I love him so this was kind of cool for me. Tom plays an effeminate caveman and I might just be part of the world's first hate crime, something I'm awfully proud of. I got a laugh out of Tom when we were about to begin our scene with a "let's beat his ass and then tease the shit out of his bangs". Trust me it was funny. Anyway he was only there for a day so I never got the chance to talk Iowa wrestling with him or to dust off any old Roseanne jokes.

What about the beautiful Ali Larter you may ask? Well Ali doesn't talk to the trolls on set but the Grizz was able to....ok actually I'm a troll so I never spoke with her. Well actually I did once when we were filming a wedding announcement and I went up and said "where are ya'll registered?" which if used in the film will be very funny. Get it? It's caveman times and I asked where are you registered.....ok f you. Anyway I've never really been an Ali fan and plus she's a smoker and chicks under 40 who smoke look retarded to me. I did see Legally Blonde on TBS last night and she was pretty good in that. Anyway enough of her...she ain't ugly I'll tell you that much.

The only guy you don't know on this movie was Tom Hodges. I knew his face but not the name. When I realized he was Dolly and Spud's son on Steel Magnolias I flipped the f out. I can't say enough about this guy. All movie stars should be Tom Hodges. He went out of his way to treat me well and I hope he gets all the success in the world. See this movie just out of respect for Tom Hodges. Then go buy all his old dvd's so he can get the royalties. The man is a prince.

Another great reason to see this movie is the old guy. They have an old man that appears in many of the scenes, sans clothing. One of the better days on the set is when the old man showed up and two young girls saw their first naked old ass. Their mom was mortified and for a minute she thought that they were in the clear. You see, the mom had to confiscate the girls glasses and she hoped that they wouldn't spot the old ass. She came up to me and goes "oh my god I have their glasses!!!".

I know that I can't translate this well without telling you in person but it was one of the funniest moments of the movie. The mom furtively looking back at her girls who are sitting around a fire. After about 6 takes the damage was done. One of the girls had spotted the atrocity and had pointed it out to her younger sister. Nothing more damaging than staring at your first naked male body and noticing that it looks like wet bread. I loved it.

This movie also has monkeys. More than one. One was a baby named joey and he was of course adorable in his little baby jumper and diapers. The other was an actual long armed monkey named Albert or some shit.

Monkey's used be cute, now I"m wary. The jokes over. I've watched way to much Discovery channel to get close to one of those assholes. They always turn on you. There will come a day that the monkey decides you ain't the boss. That's when your genitals will be pulled off. I got enough problems in my life, the last thing I need is to have to pull a knife on Mr.Jenkins, the resentful ill-tempered ape who hasn't had acting work in a few years. One time we were doing a scene and I was about 20 feet from the monkey, while I was walking by he screeched and I damn near fainted.


Now it's time to get to the good stuff. The extras. Here is where the entertainment begins. The extras can be broken up into 3 categories:

1. the eager person wanting to get into the business, this is the easiest way
2. the person who had nothing better to do that day, might as well be in a movie
3. the delusional dipshit who thinks he's a star in the making and thinks David Carridine is now their best friend.

Now let's breakdown the percentages:

1. 5%
2.10%
3. 85%

It shouldn't be too hard to figure out who was worth talking to each day and who avoided at all costs. The only problem is that this was a small intimate set so you had no choice but to interact.

There was the insecure kid who introduced himself to everyone but befriended no one. He had a weird thing where he stood next to you and talked to you while looking at you sideways. We call that the "horse eye" where I'm from. It was unsettling. This kid was always poking his nose into shit that didn't concern him. Once he told me that he wanted to be a producer as long as he didn't have to be an asshole. I told him that being a dick is a job requirement of producers. His response "then I guess I'll just be an actor"

Ok dude. I was thinking I'd just become a neurologist myself. Probably just read a book or two to brush up on it.

There's more to the story of this kid....we'll hear from him later.

There was the "sista" who was on the set for a few days. Once she asked me for my phone number. "You tall and shit, we goin on a date" Now, the grizz ain't scared to dip his pen in ink ya'll but this chick was 35 and had two babies. I ain't down with putting "Bebe's kids" to bed and all that.

The true persona non grata was the weirdo who writes horror films. Now the make-up chicks told me that they loved me because I required no wig or beard. I looked like a real caveman but dear friends that's because I was a professional actor in character. This dude, Robert, was an actual caveman. I mean Cro-Magnon man. Hideous visage, yellow teeth and the posture of a well cooked gulf coast shrimp. This guy was nice but socially inept. He'd shuffle up to you and just grunt, expecting you to react. I gave this guy a total of 3 actual courtesy laughs and then I was done with him. I never talked to him again on the set and from a distance watched him alienate himself from one person to the next. After a bachelor party scene where he got too grabby he was kindly asked not to return. One night I went to watch the Tx Rollerderby girls. One of the extras was "Miss Demeanor" and she invited us to see her show. Robert was there of course and he was all surly because dudes were talking to his "woman". I guess he decided that she was his girl and he even claimed they had boned a few years ago. Robert approached me and stuck his hand out and I walked away. I'm not sure I've done that big of a dick move since high school. Robert is probably just a few years away from committing bloody bloody murder. I'd hang out with that monkey for days before I'll drink coffee with Robert.

On a side note my drunken roommate, Lil Mike had accompanied me to the roller rink. He decided to crash the show right at the end and one of the rollergirls treated him to the experience that is being a rollerderby queen. Here is a pictorial of the result:



Then there were the uncle and nephew team that were just there for the experience and to get high and hang out with Carridine. Guess which two dudes I hung out with the most? These guys provided me with comic relief and had no agenda but to have a good time.

All in all it was a 3 week party. Most of the crew were amicable and great. The wardrobe people were never pretentious and a few were cool as hell. I made a few actual friends and hopefully set myself up for networking in the future.

Ah but just when you think that everything is hunky dory things change. A dark sinister cloud was heading toward the Texas Hill Country. With only a few days left to shoot this movie was looking to be quite the smooth production.

All of this would soon change and I would be privy to one of the most exciting moments of my life. Friends, my life was irrevocably disturbed for the better when one of Hollywood's most quarrelsome and extreme personalities descended on us like the eye of Saromon.

I'm running a little late to the set and I park, put on my jacket and step out of my car when a man grabs me by the shoulders and shakes me violently. He tussles my hair with his hand and yells in my face "Hey you wild beast! ready to make a movie!!?"

He had the wild eyed stare that is normally reserved for train-jumping hobos, the mentally deranged and Vietnam vets who think they are still actively in the shit.

Read tomorrows exhilirating conclusion as we meet:


GARY BUSEY