Mitcz.com

I have to be careful about what I say here, because I’ve got non-disclosure contracts coming out of my ass. However..

I was on a reality show the other night. Unlike the 3.5 seconds I spent on that weird MTV “True Life” show, where I was one of about 100 people at a random party, this particular show focused on someone whom I was on a “date” with for the evening.

To say it was surreal and pure fucking insanity would be an understatement. I tried like hell to retain my personality, my dignity, and .. well, my sanity. One or more of those may have slipped. Suffice it to say, I spent about 8 hours with the cast of an extremely popular reality show, and they probably have 2 full hours of footage of just me and the aforementioned “date”. Mostly yelling. I tried to calm the situation down most of the night, but then I snapped and ….

…well, again, I can’t really say. I’ll only say that I blew up a little bit and yelled a pretty fucked-up insult at someone. But I can just about guarantee you’ll be seeing some “highlight reel” of the evening on Talk Soup come December.

I don’t think the “date” will end up calling me again at a later time, but my friends are convinced the producers might try and coerce her to do so because I was the highlight of the evening. While the rest of the cast were off doing their own thing, I was immersed in drama and screaming for about 4 hours straight.

I guess I’ve lost a piece of my soul in doing that, but in my defense - I had no idea I’d be more than a 5-second blip in the background. Maybe someone will see me on there and say “Now THAT guy! I need HIM to headline at my comedy club!” or maybe “THAT guy would be PERFECT for this multi-million dollar role as the lead character in my new horror movie!”.

A guy can dream. World, forgive me for my sins. I’m just out to have a little fun.

I need to toot my own horn for just a moment here, but - I fuckin’ ROCKED the stage Saturday night at the Comedy Store. I don’t think I’ve felt better about a gig since the first one I did - way back at the Irvine Improv.

I need to give MUCHO thanx to not only the friends of mine who showed up (no offense to the ones who didn’t) but especially to the supporting comedians who gave it their all. THEY also rocked the crowd left and right, and we all got to benefit from a supportive crowd, made possible by the badassness of the comics that night.

There was someone videotaping the comics, and I’d really like to get that footage - but until/unless I do, all I’ve got is the audio from my digital voice recorder which I brought on stage with me. Unfortunately, you’re missing my facial expressions - to my surprise, that’s what created some good laughs between my pauses.

The material was written about a week or two prior to this gig, and I only spent 2 hours rehearsing it. That’s about 6 hours less than I would normally spend rehearsing material. I’m finally finding “my voice” - which I think is why it came out feeling natural.

Anyway, if you wanna give a listen :

Yesterday, I went to work as an extra for season 5 of Entourage. I won’t reveal the plot details, cause I don’t wanna ruin it for you guys - but for the purposes of this story, I’ll say it’s about the lead character “Vince” making some new big-budget flick. Okay then, on with the story…
Continue reading ‘My Life As An Extra : Part 2′

This blog includes a “part 1″ cause I’d like to think I’ll chronicle my time doing background/extra work in movies/tv/whatever. It might end up that I only do this once, as I’ll explain later.

I’ve done background work before. I knew the 1st AD that worked on a still-unreleased Rob Schneider flick, and I was a random bar patron. I applaud my friend for getting me in the front row of the bar, so I was the first patron shown on screen, close-up. Schneider, however, had other ideas. He said “Look, pal, I dig what you’re…… doing here. With your look. But uhh.. you’re a bit much. Could you sit over there?”. So, I guess I’ll be eventually credited with “guy who gets up and waddles towards the jukebox”. Look for my ass to wiggle in “Big Stan” coming to theatres just before the apocalypse, apparently, since it’s been almost 2 years since I filmed that fucking thing.

Anywho.. that was so much fun (*snicker*) I decided I’d give it a go for a portion of my income this year.

Heading in..

I went into a casting agency this morning that specializes in casting extras for movies and TV shows - their name is intentionally left out, cause I’m not looking to get sued in case I signed something that said “don’t ever talk about us in your blog”.

Driving into their parking lot, I found plenty of signs that said “no parking for extras!”. Yes, with an exclamation point. I assume this is to prepare me for a future of driving around studios and being prepared to park across the street. This is something they mention in the orientation packet, in fact.

“No parking for extras” will become my mantra.

The lineup

Heading into the place, I assumed (naively) that I would walk up to a secretary and say “I’m here to auditon”. Nope. Instead, I’m in a room full of people filling out paperwork. And there’s a giant table for people who no doubt thought “it says to be there at 10:30 but I’ll arrive at 10am!”. These are probably the same motherfuckers who graduated high school with 4.2 GPAs and printed out their homework.

After filling out my paperwork, they said “okay, everyone line up” and I stood in a line that I thought would move pretty quickly. With only about 20 people in front of me, it took an hour before I arrived at the end desk where some old man sat and waited for me.

Along the way, there was a tiny video screen giving out information on “industry terms”, as if no one knows what “we’re rolling!” means on a movie set. Maybe they don’t. My favorite part was that the screen at one point said “Have Body Art? Tell the photographer about any piercings, tattoos, or interesting body scars. Usually, this can increase your bookings!”. I didn’t know being horribly scarred in a car accident was an admirable trait - but I was happy I didn’t have to hide that I removed my piercings prior to my arrival.

I finally arrived at the desk, and some old man typed in my information, grunting along the way as if to say “g’damn computers… with their.. keyboard and fancy screens. In my day, we wrote everything down with a quill pen and people wore a top hat and a 3-piece suit. G’damn kids. Get off my lawn”.

I brought with me 3 headshots that I had printed up earlier this week (those shots are in my myspace gallery, btw, if you’re painfully curious what the Mitcz looks like in a cheesy headshot pose). I said “I brought these headshots, in addition to my photo” and the man said “oh… tell the photographer”.

I went into the room with the now-infamous photographer. I said “I have piercings. And tattoos. I brought headshots!” And I showed them that I had headshots with and without piercings. He seemed unimpressed. Thankfully, some crazy lady looking up at me from the desk next to the photographer said “ooh.. that’s a nice one!” and pointed to the close-up of my face with piercings in. I dig that one, too. The photographer suggested I give them the pierced one, and he’ll take one of me without piercings.

Taking the picture

Here comes the funny part..

I said “okay, then here’s this one” and handed the lady my headshot. She said “it’ll be a $10 fee to scan this in”.

I paused. Looked at her, and went into “you’ve got to be fucking kidding me” sarcasm mode.

Me : “So… are you going to scan this in, and then make a 3D representation of me made out of hardened clay?”
Lady : (stares blankly at me as if to say “no such technology exists”) “Uhh…. no. Umm..”
Me : “Is the scanner powered by a nuclear reactor?”
Lady : (now starting to understand i’m fucking with her) “Ohh.. heh. Umm.. no. It’s just our fee”
Me : “I think I could BUY a scanner for $10 these days”
Lady : “That’s our fee for scanning”
Me : “Can I e-mail you a digital copy and save you the trouble?”
Lady : “No. We scan it in for you”
Me : “You wouldnt’ have to. I have digital copies of these, it’s really no trouble for me”
Lady : “We don’t offer that”
Me : “The recording yesterday said I could just drop them off”
Lady : “Yeah, you can put them in that box over there, but they won’t be included in your file”.

I don’t know what happens to photos put into the magic box. I didn’t ask. I paid the $10 uber-scanning fee, along with the $25 “headshot fee” and moved along for my unnecessary headshot.

Back in the day, some agencies would charge for your headshot cause they need to develop the photo, have it printed a few times, and put it in a book. These days, they have a digital camera (a rather shitty one, mind you. I carry a pocket-size Canon in my pocket that cost easily twice what they’re using) and put the fucker in their digital database.

Total cost of that? Maybe 1/100th of a penny. For electricity. And time. It’s not like the motherfucker is setting up a light rig. He pushes a button. I saw him do it.

Checking In..

I get home and wait until 2pm for them to update today’s list of castings for the following day. It sounded a lot to me like Hollywood Bingo.

Today, they were looking for an extra for Dexter. I love that show. I almost pissed myself when I heard it on the breakdowns. But here’s the catch..

They wanted a photo stand-in for Jimmy Smits. That means, from the get-go, they’re looking for a muscular SIX FOOT 3 Mexican. With short hair.

Oh, but wait! This is a scene involving golf. So, you’ll need a handicap of less than 9. And a course total of UNDER 80 strokes. That means 4 strokes per hole, on average.

Yeah, I’m sure there’s about 100 of those lying around.

The other calls asked for :
- An 18 year old with his own wetsuit
- A 20-something with a bright-red 1980’s-era Camaro
- Mid-20s men with a Mercedez, Lexus, Infiniti or better

WTF? I really hope that’s not a sign of things to come. But it sure as hell is interesting. Makes me wonder if they’re just having fun

“Okay, today we need a mid-40s male with a natural full head of hair, a red hat, flippers, and a blue honda civic”

I’ll keep you posted on where I go from here.

I did a little guest writing for EVE-101 and they’ve posted it today. It’s part of a series called “He Said, She Said”.

This week’s question was..
One partner likes their sex simple, the other with a side of kink…can they both find satisfaction in their sex life?

And what’s my answer? PUT YOUR CLICKER THING HERE AND FIND OUT.

(oh, and I made some clarifications/responses in the comments area of the page, too)

Sometimes you hear a sentence that, until you heard it, you never would’ve imagined hearing it. Chief amongst these right now is the title of this post..

“Mitchell, come here and get high with your mother.”

My mother said that to me on Friday night, as she was lighting up a joint I rolled for her and we passed it around the room to my sister, some of my cousins, one of my aunts, and Misi. She continued with “You’re doing this for mom”.

What can I say? I’m a mama’s boy. Mom says “get high with me” and, well..

It was an interesting weekend, to say the least. Catching up with family I haven’t seen in probably 8-9 years was a scary thought but it worked out great. My family rocks a lot more than I’d given them credit for in the past. I guess you can only go so long in life pretending you’re a lone soldier, so it’s time I acknowledge the depth of loving family I have chillin’ out just a few hours north of here.

On Sunday, I walked the 5k in Lance Armstrong’s “LIVESTRONG” event. I couldn’t help but feel like it was a bit too corporatized. It was $50 just to register to walk. There were banners up all over the place. The “post party” was little more than booths setup to hawk energy drinks, cycling equipment and the like. That having been said, I choked up quite a few times when I saw other people holding signs that said “I’M A SURVIVOR!” - while I wanted to just run up and hug them and say “congratulations! keep strong!”, I just couldn’t get that sentence out without cracking.

Trying to get my mom to walk in the special “survivor lane” through the finish line she said “but.. I’m not a survivor” pretty much killed me. I couldn’t muster up the words to say “but you’re here NOW and that’s what matters”, for my throat had a giant lump in it that, if forced to move, would’ve started the waterworks.

All things considered, it was a great weekend. Very pleasant. While I watched a lot of my family cry in my mother’s arms, I tried to focus on the positive and keep a giant smile. For we were alive, and together. And most of us were pretty fuckin’ high.

How can you frown at a time like that?

Fresh off the internet wires, it’s time for the 3rd installment of “Mitcz : The Expert”. In this episode, I tackle the tricky question of whether or not dick size matters, and what those male enhancement (dick pills) are all about.

This one’s a little more serious than past episodes - but I think you’ll enjoy yourself all the same. Watch your step.

Now for the 2nd installment of “Mitcz : The Expert” wherein I discuss REO Speedwagon, conjoined twins, the shocker, love, fabreeze, sterilization, the death penalty and so much more.

Enjoy!

So, here it is. The first installment of “Mitcz : The Expert” where I break down the lesser-known details of anything that crosses my path. For this first installment, I’m gonna make you think about some shit in Willy Wonka that may not have crossed your mind. It might sting a bit, but you’ll be fine.

Another “OMGCELLPHONES!! RADIATION!!” alert has been making the rounds lately, this time saying that there’s a strong link between a mother’s usage of cellphones while pregnant and/or children using them up to the age of 7, and that of behavior problems.

The study can be found here.
Continue reading ‘Neurotic Children and Cellphones’