What seems like a quaint little house adorned with oriental genealogy books and dated pictures and family knick knacks, in truth is a house of ill repute, masking everyone’s eyes with a spell where the ingénue is the biggest liar of all - so the bad vibes wake me up and I take my family of three and return to our small apartment to deal with a disgruntled wife and discover a film crew in my living room claiming that we’re all making a movie and their last set up took 38 takes to get it right and I’ve totally forgotten the last ten days and I’m in deep debt and blowing up a van for the insurance money and still without a distributor I’m on the floor while everyone sleeps winding and rewinding dailies with Woody Allen and Oprah - funny stuff but too confusing for a final cut - and I get hamburgers still warm in a Fed Ex package from my star, the Queen of Talk TV, wishing me luck on the project - so I eat all the meat knowing it’s going to be a real long while before the movie is finally ready for screening – yeah, a very long while until I’m assuredly done with this pile of unedited footage and then … once again … I awake but now … this time I’m standing up and dealing with the taste of bile in my mouth.
