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State of Disarray: No Sleep Till Brooklyn

2004-09-09 @ 1:21 a.m.



State of Disarray; No Sleep Till (after) Brooklyn

New Jersey is known as the 'Garden State'. I have realized that by 'Garden' they mean a Conservatory of Scents That Mock the Lickable Wallpaper in the Chocolate Factory. It started out pleasant as the car filled with the unexpected aroma of butterscotch. We felt as though we were breathing candy as we (apparently) drove past some sort of butterscotch factory on the Turnpike. The scent slowly turned into an amalgam of both sugar and rubber, as we drove by Burning Tirestown. This was followed by the stench of exhaust and vapors of the good ole' Jersey factories, that apparently cause smog, haze and a conglomerate of smells that make you pray for a cold.
Finally, after we inhaled the essence that is the Turnpike, we arrived at our destination: Brooklyn. After about an hour of missing the same street a gabillion times, we found our rent-free home of three days.
Beautiful Bushwick, as absolutely no one calls it, is near the Brooklyn trains and even closer to the inconsiderate folk who insisted on keeping us up to 6am every night. There were 11 of us staying in a one-room loft on the third floor. It was a fairly large room, so it wasn't that we were completely 'sardined' we just didn't have a lot of beds to accommodate all of us. I shared a bed with Christina, Joseph and Mike shared an air mattress, Beata and Daryl shared a ridiculous air mattress, complete with throw pillows, Jonathan and Larry shared another bed, Angel slept on the floor, and the twins, Matt and Matt shared...the floor. What started out as a long night turned into an even longer morning.
My bed was closest to the window where from 1:00am to 6:00am I heard a couple fighting. In and out of consciousness all I heard was this man yelling 'No Son! Come on Son!' *clap clap* I thought I was dreaming, I mean WHAT THE FRICK was this guy screaming about? And why was he clapping?! At first I thought it was a guy yelling at his son, but I finally looked out the window and realized it was his girlfriend. Her name must be Sonya, I gathered. I finally fell asleep around 5:30. One hour later, and 20 phantom mosquito bites later, I woke up to the sound of Angel's alarm going off. I was about to go off if he didn't turn the stupid thing down.

We finally made it to 'location' around 8:30. Our set was at a boxing training-gym in Manhatten a few blocks from Ground Zero. That day went pretty well. The band, Last of the Famous, set up their instruments and lip sanc to their song 'Standing' (about 43,506 times.) They had cast a bunch of extras to help out, which mostly consisted of punk girls and guys. Some of them were in the 'Suicide Girls' or in the 'Pussy Cat Dolls' or The Suicide Dolls and Pussy Dogs, or something like that anyway. (Carson Daly never showed up.) We wrapped around 8 or 9, got some dinner and went 'home'.
Saturday night was even more interesting than the previous night. We stayed up for a bit reminsicing about the day, the room, and long-lost shows. (don't ask) After Angel kissed us all goodnight and sang us a lullabye, we ventured off to never-never-land. Because what happened next, I NEVER expected to happen.

A few hours into the night we started hearing more arguing. This time it was a couple fighting, and two of their friends. The woman seemed to be doing more of the arguing this time. They were right outside our window, so there was really no way to escape it. Not to mention that the walls ARE actually windows, that were open. It took all my strength to try and sleep and not go out there and tell them to shut up. Eventually the fighting got so bad most of us just laid in bed listening. Their arguing increased in intensity. At one point I was pretty much expecting to hear a gun shot. And that's when we heard the scream. The most awful scream I had ever heard. We all scrambled to the window as we realized what had happened. The boyfriend (assumably) had punched the girl in the stomach. She had to be at least 7 months pregnant. She was hysterical (rightly so). He was going ballistic as the other people tried to separate them. The woman was holding her stomach in agony as the other girl called 911 and a cab. Of course, the cab came first. Angel said he heard her say that she was bleeding already. He had heard their argument more clearly and said that she was saying that the baby wasn't his or something. To say it was sad and depressing and just AWFUL is like saying New Jersey smells. I mean that's MURDER. (in my eyes anyway).

A few hours later we had to get up again for another day of shooting. We arrived at 9:00am and set up for the boxing sequence. The lead singer and guitar player were to pretend to box as part of the story. But they wanted to do it for real. Their real bruises and cuts eventually circumvented the fake ones that Christina applied. My job during these two days were minimal. I helped set up the lights, and worked the fog machine. I was the Fog Master by the end of Day 2. In fact you could say that I was so important, that I wore a FogHat When this video comes out, you will be in awe of my Fogmastery. (This is my excuse for not being in a lot of the photos, for I was lurking behind the fog). Who knows? The Chickie-Leg knows!

Anywya, we wrapped around 8pm and left for VA that night. I drove back most of the way in the van I was in. The three vehicles in the Wraith caravan had walkie talkies, which always makes traveling more fun. By the way, I just realized how funny that they are called 'walkie talkies'. We should do this with more products. Such as 'ridey bikey' and 'sitey chairee'. Anyway, pretending to be Maverick never gets old for some reason. I finally got home around 3am, and fell asleep around 4. I slept IN Monday morning till about 3:00pm.

Monday night I was to report at a laundry mat a few miles away in Alexandria. We were shooting the final scenes of the video where the other band members who did not fight were playing a video game, which is supposed to be the game of the other members fighting....(you have to see it). This is when Angel told me that he would be training me to be Second AC, after I had completed my training in Second AD and FogHattery. I have seemingly fooled him into thinking I know what I'm doing. I left the laundra-mat around midnight to try and get some sleep before my first day back at (work). I may not have been paid, and didn't meet Carson Daly, but I did have a good time, met some folks, experienced The Brooklyn first-hand and increased my desire to be in this business. So thanks to Wraith for dragging me along despite my poor driving skills and apparent inability to eat New York pizza correctly.

This is the first day. I am talking to the Gibmaster as I show him how to do 'The Hand Jive'. (we were bored) (I was born to do it)

This is also on the first day when they are playing with the extras. I am on the bottom right corner workin' it. (fog machine).

This one is even harder to see. But I am de-bulbing the lights in the ring. Putting those things in and out gave me mad respect for the PA's on the Justin Timberlake 'Rock Your Body' video. (look it up)

This is me starring in my dramatic role, "I just accidently glued my hand to my forehead". It's a monologue, (off-off-off broadway.)

This is the third day at the Laundra-Mat in Alexandria. I am sportin' my Strong Bad sweatshirt as I try and calculate how many hours in total I actually slept this weekend. I was up to '5' when Angel told me to stop daydreaming and help Daryl detach himself from the camera lens. Three days of camerawork caused Daryl and the eyepiece to morph into one massive Daryl-Cam.

This is Angel and Daryl setting up the camera as I prepare to moon them. We were all exhausted, and I figured it would wake everyone up a bit.

Daryl prays I don't do it again.

Angel agrees, as he smack me in the face, forbidding me from a repeat mooning or I will have to leave. Joseph starts talking to the camera, as he has become delirious at this point. We were all a little worried.

Angel explains to Joseph what just happened as he has never seen a naked butt before. I try and mime to Joseph that Angel hasn't either, as Jonathan gasps in horror. Daryl suddenly gets motivated, as he documents the whole thing to be showcased later on E! True Hollywood Story WRAITH.

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