muffy bolding

A woman from Michigan and another from the East coast were seated side-by-side on an airplane.

The woman from Michigan, being friendly and all, said: “So, where are you from?”

The East coast woman pursed her lips, turned to her and said, “From a place where they know better than to use a preposition at the end of a sentence. ”

The woman from Michigan sat quietly for a few moments and then replied: “So, where are you from, bitch?”

Well, Mr. Sizemore arrived and he is everything — in EVERY FUCKING WAY — that we expected. He is loud, brash, bawdy, funny, and brilliant. Jesus christ, he is brilliant. When the camera starts rolling, he quite literally takes your breath away; you cannot look at anything else. His powerful presence sucks all the air out of the room. I now understand why so many have put up with so much for so long; he is a genius.

In other news, JaRule is one of the nicest and most humble guys I have ever had the pleasure of working with. When we were introduced, he took my hands, looked into my eyes, smiled the sweetest most genuine smile — and hugged and kissed me warmly. Though he is obviously known for his music, allow me to be the first to publicly state that he is a natural actor. He blew my fatass away with his performance yesterday — he is just so very present.

There is so much more to tell, as film sets are the ultimate breeding ground for the building of both lifechanging alliances as well as the distinct odor of pure, unadulterated evil — there is no place on earth quite like them. Think an extraordinary summer camp for deranged, creative adults. I don’t ever remember belly laughing quite as hard as I have belly laughed here in Nashville — and trust me, that’s saying something…as I run with the most hilarious pack of jackals in the bidness. But that will all have to wait until I get home. Right now, it’s back to the set.

Also, it’s been a sheer blast to register all my votes on everyone’s Johari windows. What is it about breakin’ it down and keepin’ it real that is so gottdamned satisfying to the soul? If I have missed anybody on my friends list — due to time constraints or an overloaded website — do leave me a comment so I can be sure and leave my humble calling card upon your soul.

http://kevan.org/johari?name=muffybolding

Much love to all.

Although I am far away from him right now — and even though we don’t really “do” the romantic holidays, as it’s much more fun to celebrate EVERY GOTTDAMNED DAY we get to spend together — I just wanted to make sure and wish a very Happy Valentime’s Day to my one true love, Gregory — who is the best husband, father, friend, and comrade a girl could ever dream of having. You make everyday fun, Mr. Pigglesworth…and I can’t wait to see where this grand and glorious adventure takes us next. If the past years are any indication…I am sure it will be extraordinary.

Oh, and special thanks for taking such wonderful, loving care of the babies in my absence. I left the mystical, magical wooden spoon — “The Enforcer” — in my underwear drawer for safekeeping. Beat at will, My Sweet!

I love you.

Even as I type this, we are shooting the film Furnace at the spooky old Nashville State Penitentiary, in the freezing cold dead of winter. First things first: Nashville is motherfucking COLD — colder than a whore’s heart. I had no idea, people. My cooter, she is shivering.

Second things second: During my big scene, my hair was in a HUGE sassy secretarial bouffant, not seen before or since with these hairs of mine. That hair was epic — EVEN IN HELL.

And third things third: Said scene was just me and Michael Pare’ from “Eddie and The Cruisers” fame. He is fucking brilliant, funny, and oh, so LOVELY. I was absolutely smitten, and remain so to this day.

During the last take, unbeknownst to everyone else on the set, the director, Billy, and I took a small liberty with the script. Originally, Michael — who plays Detective Turner to my Polly, his secretary — sweetly asks me, “Are you propositioning me, Polly?”, and I look over the top of my glasses at him, read him, work my neck like there’s no tomorrow, and respond with, “Ummm, no — and trust me, honey…YOU COULDN’T KEEP UP.”

Billy and I — with one wicked eye on the inevitable outtakes reel — did the last take this way instead:

Michael: “Are you propositioning me, Polly?”

Polly (patting her bouffant, throwing down her file folders, and peeling off her sensible sweater before lustily crawling over the top of the precinct desk at him): “As a matter of fact, I am, Mr. Eddie and The Fucking Cruisers. Let’s get back on it!”

Needless to say, it brought down the gottdamned house — and belly laughing louder and harder than anyone else was Mr. Michael Pare’. He’s a good egg. Oh, and did I mention he’s still a top shelf piece of ass?

Goddamnit, I love my job.

And now, back to work.

Next up: The arrival of Tom Sizemore (Pray for us, won’t you?)

“Culture replaces authentic feeling with words. As an example of this, imagine an infant lying in its cradle, and the window is open, and into the room comes something, marvelous, mysterious, glittering, shedding light of many colors, movement, sound, a tranformative hierophany of integrated perception and the child is enthralled – and then the mother comes into the room and she says to the child, ‘That’s a bird, baby, that’s a bird,’ instantly the complex wave of the angel peacock irridescent transformative mystery is collapsed, into the word. All mystery is gone, the child learns this is a bird, this is a bird, and by the time we’re five or six years old all the mystery of reality has been carefully tiled over with words. This is a bird, this is a house, this is the sky, and we seal ourselves in within a linguistic shell of disempowered perception.”

— Terence McKenna

One question:

Bitch or Bust?

Thank you.

And now, back to our regular schedule of packing and panicking.

Inspired by the ever sexy and at the previous behest of the lovely and currently skull-pained . Hope it somehow helps your headache to know the details of that which currently dwells within my refrigerator and pantry. It should also be noted that this list is not entirely indicative of my normal weekly shopping list, as it just so happens to be the very last gathering before the big move — so it’s mostly treats and somewhat quick eats.

And for the record, all the cans of mandarin oranges are for my 14 year old daughter, Anne — the cute, skinny, pony-legged goat-girl currently lives off of them. Sweet, cute baby goat.

The canned artichoke hearts are for me, so keep your meathooks off; they are the passion of my palate.

beef stew
tj’s mountain spring water
tj’s mountain spring water
organic round tortilla chips
cheese enchiladas
cheese enchiladas
altoids gum cinnamon
shortbread apricot/raspberry filling cookies
tandoori naan garlic bread
beef stew
spinach and tofu egg rolls
egg rolls and vegetable stir fry
tj’s balsamic vinegar 33.8 oz
weston hash brown potatoes
weston hash brown potatoes
tj’s fancy oyster crackers
orange pasteurized juice
coffee french roast
potato and green chile burrito
black bean and cheese burrito
potato and green chile burrito
black bean and cheese burrito
sweet crisp corn
mandarin oranges fruit
mandarin oranges fruit
mandarin oranges fruit
mandarin oranges fruit
mandarin oranges fruit
mandarin oranges fruit
red mild salsa 24 oz
regular cottage cheese
canned artichoke hearts
canned artichoke hearts
organic hearts of palm
organic hearts of palm
5 layer dip
canned artichoke hearts
sweet crisp corn
organic hearts of palm
canned artichoke hearts
tj sliced jack cheese w/ peppers
tj sliced jack cheese w/ peppers
celery with peanut butter
celery with peanut butter
cut carrots with ranch dressing
broccoli cauliflower veg combo
organic sliced apples
mini-pearl tomatoes
chewable melatonin 500 mcg
chewable melatonin 500 mcg
mini-pearl tomatoes
mini-pearl tomatoes
tj’s mountain spring water
clementines
tj’s mountain springwater
pellegrino sparkling water
pellegrino sparkling water
pellegrino sparkling water
pellegrino sparkling water
pellegrino sparkling water

It is done.

“Because, truly, if you’re thin and have the right haircut in Los Angeles…miracles can happen.”
— CJ Arabia, writer