I'm in Panama. It is hot. It is humid. It is 8am. We are going to prep gear today and shoot a scene on a beach. Following that we fly for an hour to the Caribbean side of the country and live on a yacht for a few days. What the fuck? Don't ask me, it ain't my money. Apparently we're hanging out with models and race car drivers and Izod has all the money in the world to spend on this shit. Go for broke. Coming from a Third World country like the post-Bush USA I was under the assumption the world was suffering from some sort of serious financial meltdown, Great Depression Part II. Apparently I was mistaken.
Peace out, bitches!
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3 comments:
i'm so confused. i remember the words, but i'm not sure of the context, but apparently, i did hear this according to your father. buy me something!
Stay focused, sober as possible, do a good job, and keep your head down!
Look at this way - Izod most likely has enough money to shoot another project in L.A. You wanna stay on that gravy train.
And do please win the lotto! A writing shack? I would like a fully equipped writing wing, or at minimum, a writing cabana.
Duck pond. Deer everywhere. Quail! Dove! Rabbits! Maybe even pheasant!
And you speak of writing wings and shacks. Bah!
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