animehem/central casting 2

animehem/central casting 2

head and another really long head to take up lots of space

head and another really long head to take up lots of space

head and another really long head to take up lots of space

head and another really long head to take up lots of space

head and another really long head to take up lots of space

head and another really long head to take up lots of space

head and another really long head to take up lots of space

head and another really long head to take up lots of space

head and another really long head to take up lots of space

head and another really long head to take up lots of space

head and another really long head to take up lots of space

animehem/central casting 2

continued from previous page

“I’m Lesley,” she said loudly but not loud enough. “Lesley Tesh!”

“Nice to meet you, I’m Steven! So you know Lonnie?!” I sounded like I was asking her for directions. Dangerously close to sounding like I did have an angle. But I have no angle. I’m angle-less. An open faucet like mine is just a beer tap of angle-free information both vital and insignificant, along with a constant stream of inappropriate over-sharing. It’s a flowing, rolling ramble that meanders like a drunk driver on Mulholland Drive and you may or may not get where I was aiming. We might even crash. But even so, when the verbose vehicle stops smoking, chances are you’ll still like where you landed because, hey, it’s Hollywood. I’m sure this is coming as a great big duh! to you, but as I write this, I’m kinda struck with panic: Who would get into a car with that guy? I’ll have to include a seat belt with the next book.

Oh, and worse, the flow has no filter. You have to say something is off the record or make me promise, vow, or swear to God not to tell anyone because I’m under the impression if you’re telling me this, Me can tell anyone else. Even something like “just between you, me, and the fencepost” is too vague for me to legally be held liable. For example,  let’s say the upcoming conversation went like this:

“Yes. Now just between you and me, Lonnie is my coke dealing galaxy-conquering companion and in a minute he’s going to transform into his true metallic reptilian alien form and I’m going to divide myself into a billion fragments of charged light particles and become a goddess and take over your planet, using all of you humans for feed. Keep it to yourself.”

“No shit,” I gasp.

She walks away. Someone comes up to me.

“What’s up, Ste7en?” they ask.

“Keep your eye on Lonnie and in a minute get ready to be really nice to this exploding light chick.”

Still, the actual conversation did have some similarity.

“Yeah, I’ve known Lonnie for quite a while,” she says. Then she bursts out laughing again, like there’s some totally hilarious private joke here. I’m not getting it, but I pretend to just so I can watch her laugh because there’s nothing like a beautiful woman laughing. She might not have said that alien business, but she still starbursts into a billion light fragment. I’m dazzled.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“Oh, you know. You know?”

I answer “No” but my neck is making my head nod “yes”. Stop it, Neck. Stop it, demands Brain.

More laughter.

“Right, right, gosh, I mean how could you know?” she says. More laughter.

Was she just released from prison or something? She’s overjoyed with everything. Maybe she’s nuts. I don’t care.

“You’re adorable,” I gush. She’s so pretty. So happy. Pretty and Happy. Let her eat the human race for all I care.

“Oh shut up.” Still laughing.

“I mean it. And this is so gonna sound like a line but I’m a writer and director and I’m working on these Japanese cartoons, dubbing them into English.”

“Okaaaay.”

Now those big beautiful liquid eyes are scanning me, slightly wary. She detects nothing. Still, something’s startled her. Maybe long ago she saw one of those damn anime shows with tentacles.

“We’re getting crazy busy,” I tell her, making sure to clarify my position on octopod-on-human sex in animation. “NON-tentacle anime is huge right now and I am beating the bushes looking…or listening, I guess…for more voices. Are you by any chance an actor? Have you ever done anything like that?”

Uh-oh. Pretty and Happy is suddenly gone. Replaced by Pretty and…Angry?

What the hell happened? I know I must be coming across like the molesting casting agent sans couch, but I’m legit. I’m gay! My cock has no foreskin in this game. My love for you is strictly asexual.

“Who told you?” She asks me, arms folded now, scolding, demanding, suspicious.

“Told me what?” I ask innocently. But it comes out sounding like bad acting. Which is really pissing me off because I am innocent. No one told me anything. Hell, she hasn’t told me anything.

“Come on. Who told you?”

“I swear to God! I really am a director!” I’m about to whip out my wallet to find a business card or my birth certificate, passport, a skin graft. You know, just the usual items we have to have on us now to vote, to stop that rampant voter fraud because that’s the giant immorality gumming up the workings of the governmental election process. And then that’s when it hits me.

She’s an actor.

“I’m sorry. I just moved back here from L.A.” she confesses, embarrassed, coming clean as if we both just realized her profession at the same time. But that’s okay. At least she’s not just outta prison. She’s not back to full H&P mode but it’s close. “I thought someone must have told you.”

“So you are an actor. Excellent!” I say, noticing her beginning to shift her weight from this leg to that. Wait. We’re cool now. Why’s she nervous? “Have you done anything I’ve seen? What were you doing out there?”

“Oh, just this stupid show. It’s nothing. A series.” She doesn’t look me in the eyes. What did she do out there? Porn?

“What series?”

“It’s just some stupid kids show.”

“I have two kids. I probably know it. Come on, tell me.”

Then she does that shmur shmur shmur thing. You know, how you mumble the answer so no one understands you? Only she’s doubling down and raking her fingers across her lips as well. The music isn’t helping.

“Pmer Mgers”

“What?” I ask louder.

“Pmer Mgers,” she repeats.

Again with the hand over her mouth. WTF?

“WHAT?”

Then she goes all cartoon on me, making two fists and throwing them down toward the floor, moving her head forward to me slightly, yelling.

“POWER RANGERS!”

Oh. My. God.

At that time those multi-colored kung fu kids were the hottest thing on the planet. It was the only year anyone ever even noticed the faces of the kids when they weren’t covered by helmets. Coincidentally, as I’m writing this, they’re filming the reboot, but updating it for the times. Updating it for the times means they’re casting all previously Asian roles as white people now. The lone Japanese character in Mighty Morphin Power Rangers, Rita Repulsa is now played by the whitest non-Japanese actress on the planet, Elizabeth Banks. This casting news flash came just a month or so after everyone saw the first production still of Scarlett Johansson as Major Motoko Kusanagi. I imagine Banks and ScarJo meeting one night for sushi (those poseurs) only to be interrupted by Yakuza comprised of Ming Na Wen, Bai Ling, Eddie Huang, and George Takei. After getting the women to reveal the information they’re wanting, the gang motors off to go all samurai on the studio execs in charge of casting. Elizabeth Banks. That rice is so white. What? Was Julie Bowen busy?

It's only rock and roll But I like it, like it, yes I do

It's only rock and roll But I like it, like it, yes I do

It's only rock and roll But I like it, like it, yes I do

It's only rock and roll But I like it, like it, yes I do

It's only rock and roll But I like it, like it, yes I do

It's only rock and roll But I like it, like it, yes I do

animehem/central casting 2

It's only rock and roll But I like it, like it, yes I do

It's only rock and roll But I like it, like it, yes I do

It's only rock and roll But I like it, like it, yes I do

It's only rock and roll But I like it, like it, yes I do

It's only rock and roll But I like it, like it, yes I do

It's only rock and roll But I like it, like it, yes I do

It's only rock and roll But I like it, like it, yes I do

It's only rock and roll But I like it, like it, yes I do

It's only rock and roll But I like it, like it, yes I do

It's only rock and roll But I like it, like it, yes I do

It's only rock and roll But I like it, like it, yes I do