Rockstar revolution
Rockstar revolution
Last Saturday Jessie and I went to a karaoke/bowling bar to kick out one or two jams with some friends. We hadn't been karaoke-ing since my birthday in July and had forgotten how much fun it was, so we made plans with everyone there to go back the next Saturday.
I invited a few people from work to go with us, and one of these people took it upon herself to make up some fliers to distribute to the whole crew. In just one day, my small gathering had turned into THE social event of the film shoot. The producers weren't going to have a wrap party, so this event had become a hostile substitute. An act of defiance. We created our own wrap party and didn't need production approval or money. With only a few well-placed invites, I inadvertently became the leader of a revolution.
Needless to say, when the entire crew and much of the cast showed up to karaoke last night and a work friend of mine started doing some improptu MCing, the pressure was on with my first solo.
A proper karaoke selection should be relative to a situation. One should play to one's strengths. For example, I can't carry a tune, but I can play an audience like no one's business. A song should be unexpected but be familiar enough so that even those that don't know the song should be able to sing along by the end. The selection should give some insight into the singer's tastes but only through hints rather than outright declaration. It should simultaneously intrigue and excite a crowd. My selection was Denis Leary's "Asshole", and I was goddamned brilliant. Really.
The whole night was a smash. I finally got to meet a friend's girlfriend who, up to that point, I thought was fictional. Everyone danced. Vino did flow. Et cetera, et cetera.
And today The Steelers won the Super Bowl. All in all it was a good weekend.
Only one week left in the shoot, and I can't wait to have a little time off to catch up on my movies, my book and--most importantly-- my sleep.
Watching:
Reading:
D
2 Comments:
I am 13 hours ahead of the United States, so the Super Bowl aired between around 9a-12p Monday morning here.
Since we can't very well watch the game and drink beer at 9am on a Monday morning, a guy taped it for us, and we watched it in the afternoon.
But, around 1pm, some BITCH -- knowing we all were purposefully not looking at the Internet -- says, "Oh, the Steelers won!"
Fucking A. I mean, fucking-fucking A.
I spent a horrible weekend in Tulsa Oklahoma. I am actually looking forward to a weekend where nothing is going to happen.
Seriously.
-Nick
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