There's always an Arquillian Battle Cruiser, or a Corillian Death Ray, or an intergalactic plague

I spend an inordinate amount of time bobbing in the Pacific Ocean and I think it may be affecting me professionally. I also think, nay, know, that I don't care. That said I must confess that when the back lot of Universal caught on fire the other day I sort of laughed. Every time I'm on a back lot I am constantly struck by how lousy the safety systems are. I feel that way on almost every set I've ever been on, back lot or practical. Why is it that I can get fired for being unable to pull off the impossible while some jack-ass gets promoted as his set blows up? What gives? You should have heard the bitching recently about getting the correct street permit so that the crew didn't have to work in the middle of a fully opened road. Yeah, set the camera up but don't get hit by that truck barreling straight at you. Idiots.

That's it for today, just a random blob of useless information for anyone who might stumble upon this crappy excuse for a blog. I have saltwater on the brain and I think I'm going to spend the rest of the day shooting photos and playing with my self, I mean, my dog. But not like that.

Oh, this just in, got offered another low-budget movie and for some strange reason I'm thinking about taking the job. Did I learn nothing in Stockholm! Is not my new favorite scar not a constant reminder to avoid these things like the plague?! What is wrong with me? I think it's because I've had the whole week off and it's driving me insane. Every night I stay home, Charlie gets stronger. What? No really, surfing everyday and reading and trying to shoot photos is cool. For a day or two. The problem is that none of those things makes me any money and until I'm out of debt or dead I think I need to be earning some cash. Ah freelance life, what a bitch.

Peace out, bitches!