Because sometimes there’s just nothing else out there to make you say *ahh… yeah*

There’s this!
Shawn Reaves… of course he’s a search that landed here. I cast him in a feature film a few months ago and on day one of the shoot a personal emergency took him off the set. I’m not at liberty to say more, but I’m so glad to know (selfishly) that it’s not like I made a bad call in casting him and he pulled a diva move and walked off set. No. It was legitimately a personal emergency. And there will be a moment in time when I can cast him again. And I will. Rockstar cool actor… and I’m so glad my life intersected with his.
Blindtrash… WTF? I don’t even know what that is, much less how it led here. But maybe it has something to do with Blind Lemon (or was it Blind Melon? Damn those ’90s!!) or at the very least Trashmouth, Smashmouth, or some other trendy band name. What were we called? Trenchmouth and the Plastic Unicycles? Yeah. That was a damn cool band name in the ’80s… as was A Bunch of Lamps… That Don’t Work. Of course the BEST band I ever fronted was Llama Farm. Seriously. We rocked hard. Believe it.
I think my favorite ever search came from “lost the key handcuffs photos” because–my GAWD, why wouldn’t that RAWK?!? It just so would! Of course, I’m way tame in my mid-30s years and whatever handcuffs I had were surrendered to Brandon at the Walsh house somewhere around year six of the series. Oh, wait… that was Claire! Bitchcakes!
Ah, just the same… as Chip and Caroline taught me in ’97, there are always two realities: “That’s what happens to me,” and, “That’s what happens to me on my show.”
I did get one Google for “Bonnie Gillespie Katrina,” layst month, which is what reminds me that there are several Bonnie Gillespies. There’s the first one I encountered, in 1994. I’d moved home from Los Angeles after the Northridge Quake (my starter quake, FTLOG) and re-established phone service in the Hotlanta area. I immediately began getting calls from creditors about my “strip club life” and the bills I owed payments on. Gold Club, Cheetah III… yeah, I loved those places, but I never worked there, yo!
Okay, so since becoming a grown-up (stop. laughing. you.), I’ve only ever been confused with two other Bonnie Gillespies. One is a board of regents member in the northeast (you go, girl) and the other is a photographer for the Red Cross. Every time there’s a natural disaster, she gets higher Google cred than I do. DAYUM, what a year she’s had! Bless her bones, since I do nothing as important as the work she does!
BTW–as for feeling like a slug and such… well, it just effin’ happens. What can you do? You just keep doin’ what you do and enjoy the ride. That’s really all there is. Ever.