Musings. (aka: Please cram your 2 cents back up your asshole.)

I didn't go to Magic Mountain cause the girl we were gonna take (cause she'd never been) couldn't make it. Plus, I have no money. But I did play croquet on Sunday for the first time in weeks cause it wasn't retarded-hot outside for once. It was a very pleasant day, actually.

Hrm. I felt like I should write, but I'm now realizing that I have nothing to say.

Yeah. Like that's ever stopped me.

For those of you who are under the cockamamie assumption that my entire life revolves around trying to "be a movie star in Hollywood," here's an update: I've been fairly motionless on the acting front lately because 1) very little seems to go on out here in the middle of summer, 2) I'm broke as hell, and 3) heat + humidity = nick sits very still for as long as possible all the time. Its alright, summer rolls on.

The fact that I'm taking my sweet-ass time with this LA actor thing really does drive everyone nuts. I don't get it. I don't get all-up-in everyone else's business and try to tell them how they should navigate their career. I might enjoy the scenic route as opposed to the "nose to the grindstone" mentality but its not like I'm passed out in the back of a Sunset Strip nightclub with a syringe dangling from my arm so chill the fuck out. I'm not stupid-- I know what I'm doing. If my pace isn't good enough for you, then you better move to LA and starve and have a nervous breakdown your own damn self. Otherwise, no more talky talky.


I want very badly to go see Little Miss Sunshine. I hear its super-duper.

Night.