… let the music tell the story …

It’s another one of those posts where the songs speak what I can’t … shouldn’t …

I am so … so …


… what’s wrong with me? … don’t answer that …

I reallyREALLYREALLY need someone to photograph me in a way that captures my inner Brad PItt or George Clooney or Johnny Depp or Kevin Bacon or Stanley Tucci or Colin Firth or … even … I don’t know,  Nicholas Cage on a bad day.

Those men are age 49 to 55; as in, I am in the same age cohort as all of them. NOW I KNOW that I do not have the same natural materials with which to work as any of them (not to mention not having the personal trainers, chefs and etc) but I cannot possibly be as repugnant as it would seem response to my photos indicates.

Well, actually, yes, I can be and am – BUT THE POINT IS – a good photographer could disguise that and make me look, I don’t know, somewhere in the same solar system as the above mentioned men. I mean, really. So, although I am no longer an actor – I guess what I really need is what amounts to a new headshot – hahaha – yeah, actually, a headshot. Indeed.

I am also looking for a new name to make me more – I don’t know – sexy? Mysterious? Palatable? My friend L suggested all sorts of foul monikers, such as Gavin McLoad and Penis Parker and Ream Martin – but he watches a lot of porn and those are a trifle too obvious – and difficult to live up to – for me. So, here’s the thing: the following pics are getting me nowhere in life:

C BLOG 1 C BLOG 2 c blog 3 C BLOG 4 C BLOG 5 None of these have met with any real success. And let me just say that it is ego-defeating enough to be rejected by agents, publications, and publishers as well as employers, as well as my recent rather rich in rejection personal history; I would like it if once in a while a picture of me didn’t frighten the horses. Or the whores. (That’s a Sondheim reference and not nearly as scatological a sentence as it seems.)

I mean, I could understand if I sent the Demon Barber of Fleet Street one (to the right) with me wielding the razor and looking like I look – although that was the last time I was actually at a weight of which I approved – unfortunately it required eating nothing but one can of tuna every three days: C BLOG 6 but I don’t bring out the Sweeney unless I’m really feeling low. Like, for instance, today.

I was having a “Mom day” and as we ate lunch and I told her about a position I was hoping to get (as opposed to the positions I hope to someday assume) she said to me, all sweet and dead serious with her 85 year old logic and wisdom; “You’re never gonna get that job at your age. They’ll never hire you.”

Wow. Uhm, she doesn’t MEAN it like it sounds, but that’s the way it has always SOUNDED since I can remember – which may have SOMETHING to do with me feeling like “Well of course they don’t want to meet me once they see my picture.” Which is why it would be reallyREALLYREALLY cool if someone could take a picture of me in which I looked like someone else – someone attractive and sexy and – you know – someone someone wants to hire or publish or fucking meet (or, meeting, fuck).

Oh life. Wait – I’ve got it; maybe I should just send this:

C BLOG 7  COOPERcooper, anderson 3Mr. Anderson Cooper is close to my age – and my weight – and we both have the same hair cut – maybe if – when I then meet them – I just get really busy, really fast – they won’t notice it’s not me?