Ran into that stunning young latin male ingenue with the lovesexy scar who was a featured player on the HBO prison sex melodrama Oz. I don't know his name, but this dimunitive male vixen has one of those muscular, tight bodies with a gorgeous complexion, and bubble derriere that has an unmitigated life of its own. I pretended to read the newspaper, but i just stared at him for a good 45 minutes, mentally undressing him, and imagining that he was sitting on my raw ocre face, and occasionally feeding me his uncut peterkin.
I wish tired TV people would stop contacting me. I'm not interested in auditioning for a part on a tired sitcom, exploitative talk fest, rock video or reality TV show.
I'm also sick of so called indie-filmmakers who never stop emailing me to be in their low budget films, with the promises of exposure. The only thing this lady needs is: a. food in her fat stomach b. serious coins in her shabby pocket book and c. hefty peni in her twitchy coochee.