From Christmas 05 to Christmas 06: A Black Chick's Journal

[Shaun Landry]

Save Me.

What turned out to be a quiet meeting on dealing with media contacts...turned into a hardcore discussion on why I do the things I do for little to no money for improvisers.

I met with Jill from HWFM at her office at the Entrepreneurial business complex. This is an office that you can get get at an incredible rate that comes equipped with an office, internet phones, professional mail system, security, front personnel, and the big perk...gorgeous conference room spaces. For five buck extra...you get internet connection and all the rest. The offices already comes with shelving units and a desk.

What an incredible little Co-Operative of a space. Because you would never know the deal with the place until the renters actually told you. In the office is Jill and her co-producer...and Paul E with Turtle Rock. He is only springing 400 a month for his office with all these amenities.

I call Hans on the spot there. I love working from my home. But with all of these corporate phone calls...I cannot physically invite clients here. That just looks cheesy:

Hey, Welcome to my home office. This is Tut...he will jump onto our business clothes. Don't mind the bong on my desk. I hope you found parking on my street. Seriously. You don't have to worry about walking out of here and finding your car antennae gone.

And Jill said it best: I really do miss the people interaction. The floor she is on is a group of really super cool private owners who are all really cool to each other. They also have workshop spaces... This place is dreamy. Beautiful. Professional. Cheap. Walking from my house. Close by the Chieftain.

I'm all OVER this place.

...

We all sit down with our media list. I email my .csv early in the morn instead of burning it on a CD. My media list is surprisingly larger than theirs. It also seems to be sorted a little better. (I break my down by the simpleness of Television, Radio, Print Publications, Website, and Freelancers. This way..when I send out emails....I can break them down into smaller subsections...because what I send to Radio does not go to Print...etc.

Jill Mergers her list with my list in Excel...then we start getting rid of the dups and talk about the ones we have gotten media features and specials from. It was a really good day to talk about all of this considering the San Francisco Guardian just changed over Calendar Listing from my wonderful Cheryl Eddy to a new woman.

Later in the day I get on the phone with her and had a nice welcome and anything we can do for her chat. I offered her candy...and my undying love.

It is a strong hardcore clean list of 300 Bay Area Media contacts. It was a nice purge of things I was planning to do in December until my health got in the way.

We were sitting about after we were done and Jill asked me if I ever thought about getting into Public Relations.

I said (Wearing jeans that probably need a good cleaning and the SF Jersey) I don't know if you noticed or not...between how I dress and how much I fucking swear...that I don't really fit into the corporate world so well. I feel really comfortable with doing what I'm doing: Getting the corporate world money on my own time...and then passing that on to improv companies who need PR help.

This, is when I got laid into. About my "Self Worth" why I give my services to upcoming improv ensembles for free and not make a big profit off it.

"They don't have any money" I implore. And you can't take money from people who don't have any money. I wish I had someone who did this sort of thing for me when I started in improv"

"Well...do you feel like you want to save them?"

THIS is why I felt so gunky after that Tuesday Rehearsal. I left that couch like a wide open wound talking about my relationship with Hans. I said on the couch "He met me when I was in geese with a mattress on the floor and in the nasty confines of that house. I met him spending half his time in the back of a comic book store and the other half living in Dyer Indiana with his parents. It was like we were trying to save each other"

And this came haunting me right back the following day in a business conference.

I just put my head down "No Jill, I don't want to save improv. I want people to succeed."

"But you have the skills and the talent to make more money"
"By what? Charging 100 dollars an hour to Drunken Monkey doing their PR"
"Yes"
"I know they don't have it. I know Texaco does. I know that Starbucks does...I even know YOU might..."

This went back and forth standing for about an hour. I was called out all over the place. Do I do this because I want to "save people" do I do this because "I want to be loved" She says: "Trust me. I see a lot of me in you"

This...is where I just smile. Because every theater person I deal with at some point of another giving me advise on how to live my life...calls me out on the few nice habits I have...as *bad Habits*

I get a lot of other people's bad habits laid at my emotional psyche door. Generous and Caring has been mistaken for the twisted mean definition of Martyrdom. Helping means "Needy" Straightforwardness means "Damaged"

Achieving goals? This means Sneaky.

You name it? I have been called it. Loving, Bitch, Tender, Whore, Passive. Aggressive. Passive/Aggressive.

All I could think of was: What in the world is wrong with being helpful? When did society start considering this a bad thing? Was this when we stop trusting people at the core of it all and everyone must have a hidden *something*

Does making money and trying to be popular really have that sort of grasp on actors? To where the own definitions of caring and kindness and been changed into everything most actors DON'T want to be?

I just stood there. And I said "You are probably right" I'm too physically tired to fight about who I am anymore to people. She apologized leaving about the "Self Worth Lecture" just said "It is fine"...and told her when I walked out of the building. I have said worse to actors. You know things like "OH GOD...GET LAID"...

I left with a clean wonderful list of media contacts. It was an exchange. That came with a price. A price of hearing about my Self Worth.

I walk out of the Entrepreneurial Building. Then the irony hits me: I just got a Self Worth talk about helping people who need the help with their improv company. Coming out of building built to help people who need the help with their companies.

I love irony. I really do.

I will probably continue to give my services out to strapped for cash improviser for free to little for nothing. Because I have those resources. And they don't. And cannot afford it. Giving someone I will continue to deal with the idea of people considering "An Opportunity" as "Saving The World"

I will probably continue giving cheap or free rental spaces to improv actors so they can turn an actual profit on their shows and have the money to invest in services like mine in the future. I probably will continue to do that no matter what anyone thinks.

I'm not here to save a damn soul. I cannot save myself from the inevitable finality of what happens to humans. And that is the big one.. Death.

All I know is time is fleeting. And for me on the world and the one thing I love to do?

If you want the help? I got the resources. If you want to throw me a dinner and buy me some flowers...awesome. If you got the cash and can afford it...awesome...throw me some walk around money. I get my money from people who *I know have it*

For those worried about me eating Alpo 20 years from now? Don't.

If you want to do stuff that goes into direct competition with what I'm doing? I don't care. That in my mind means there is more improv for the straights to see...and I support that, no matter if the M.O behind it was being snarky or not. And, I'm willing to help with that...

With no recognition whatsoever.

I came home and told Hans that I got a tongue lashing about being over generous and my "Self Worth"

"Shaun...people don't get you. I don't get you sometimes. That is why I love you"

And once again...Hans saves me. From myself.

 

[Shaun Landry]

KAMIKAZE!

Got some free tix to see this one man show with Matt Kaye at The Purple Onion in San Francisco (He is from Chicago and did Fat Whore with Jen Ellision in WNEP).

I was told by Goldstar Wonder that he has not had a drink in almost six years.

Well, There goes offering him a congrats drink after the show. I'm actually really super happy for the man. Makes me happy when improvisers see an actual problem and tries to remedy it.

The audition for big name computer company has been booked in since Wednesday. Right now there are fifty people coming to the audition. But, I'm *still getting emails from people* from the newsletter and sfcasting.

I feel really super bad for these folks. Especially New Lila Boy. I just don't want to double book someone else's time.

My battle with Sears has officially come to an end.

During Christmas I ordered these CD racks for Hans. I realized they were too big for the house the moment I hit click. I called them two second after the click to tell them to cancel. They did.

I get an email from sears two days later saying THEY ARE ON THEIR WAY. I call up Sears again...and basically say "WHAT THE FUCK"...

They tell me it was their mistake. and to send it back. That is when I start logging in my outlook all the calls, phone numbers and people I spoke with.

The package comes. I deny it. I ask UPS for a tracking slip. I scan it in...I keep it.

This is December. It is now Almost April 2006. After dealing with BofA and Sears...they finally re-credit me the 271.16 from these racks I don't own.

The last call I had with Sears was on Tuesday. They told me they were only going to give me 216.00...taking out the shipping. The Shipping...I NEVER ASKED FOR.

Me (to customer Service Rep): So you are telling me you guys are trying to Screw me for a mistake YOU MADE

CR: I would not say that...

Me: Okay...would you say this?: If this was you...and you have been dealing with this since December...and you did the right thing and cancelled...and Sears sent you the product you did not want ANYWAY...and you waited, and waited and waited to get your money back...then you find out they are taking shipping out from SEARS MISTAKE...

...tell me sir..How would you be feeling right now if I was sitting in your seat...and you were sitting at my office desk more than livid?

C.R.: (Long Pause) Oh god. I'm so sorry.

The Retarded Side of Sears. He said after the whole interaction: Well we hope you shop with Sears again.

...I said...I would not shop with Sears again, if The Taliban had hot pokers to my eyes and forced me to buy one of your Fridges. I would rather have them burn my eyes out. But, at least *you were nice enough*

And he just laughed.

I got my money back today. And sears had the quiet nerve to send me an email on a 50% discount on *anything in the store*

I click onto the take me off your mailing list instead.

 

[Shaun Landry]

Stomp, Stomp, Stomp.

I don't know how such a little feller can make so much noise.

STOMP STOMP STOMP through the house all morning fixing the pipes in this place.

He must weigh about 120 Soaking wet.

STOMP STOMP STOMP. He shakes the floor as I speak right now.

My home is falling apart. Literally. The place is old. And to make it all suck even more? They sold the place next door...which, I guess the plumbing here was attached to theirs, and they disconnected it...

Leaving my washing machine, dish water and kitchen sink shooting water out of the back of the building to *nowhere* causing flooding downstairs on the porches.

For a while there everyone thought we were doing something wierd up here. I dunno. Like killing rabbitts in the garbage disposal. or washing the head of the homeless guy I lobbed off over and over again in the washing machine.

But no. It turned out that they just did not remember our shit was connected to the shit next door.

Then, there is the rain.

We have a skyroof in the apartment. One in our kitchen. One in our bedroom. The roof (according to 70's gay hairstyler Repairman) is a shambles. This, is why everytime it rains lately...we get water coming in from the Skylight into our kitchen. Its depressing. Especially with all the rain here in San Francisco this year. We have re-arranged our kitchen...Just to catch water. Every night when it rains...it is like a dripping waterfall.

Last night the rains in San Francisco came down in sheets. Our bed is right under the skylight in the bedroom. Generally when it rains...it is very romatic and wonderful.

Last night It woke me up. And for ten minutes I laid in fear hearing the rain hit our skylight and hearing the leaking in the kitchen wondering "Will the roof fall in now?"

Depressing.

====================================================

STOMP STOMP STOMP goes the plumber to my desk two seconds ago. I actually get a look at his face.

Deliverance lives in San Francisco. He shows me and hans (who is sitting across from me at his office desk) this broken *thing* It is his light he was using under the sink:

Deliverance Boy: (drawl) mumbly mumbly mumbly.
Me: waaa?
DB: mumbly...liiiieght broke....mumbly...go out to feeeix...mumbly...be riiiieght baak
Me: Alrighty then.

=====================================================

70's Gay Hairstyler Repairman told me yesterday that our owner was thinking about just leveling the entire place. Just taking the whole building down.

Why did he tell me this? It was the look on my face of sheer horror. And I think he realized what a shock he put me in...because this would mean if they actually really do this? Hans and I would have to find another residence. And the renters hell laws in San Francisco that goes with that. This would mean they would have to relocate us somewhere or buy us out.

What a fucking nightmare. I look at him and say "FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS KIND IN THE WORLD...if this happens...give us MONSTER ADVANCE Notice"

Me personally? i just want them to *fix this place* I love living here. The location to everything. The enclosed porch. The back porch...and when things actually work? The Dishwasher plus our own Washer and Dryer. The place is comfortable and actually holds a lot of great memories when I first came here and knew the renters downstairs...then moving into that apartment...to moving up here when the rains flooded downstairs.

Our landlord actually has been a good guy to us. Which, is probably why they are here right now. This place has been quiet and serene over the last two years. The first time this building contained people who all like and respect each other. We invite each other to our parties. We watch out for each other's packages when they arrive. My next door neighbor lets me pilfer off of her spice plants on the porch. My downstairs neighbors invited me and Hans to their wedding. The man who lives where I used to live...loves boxing and comes up here with chips and watches boxing with Hans.

70's Gay Hairstyler tells me: You should have been here in the late 90's. This place was a nightmare of horrible renters. The guys downstairs...Drove everyone nuts. I think they were *so violent and closted gay*

*they were not gay* I told him. I hated to tell him that I knew the guy and the roommate. It made him uneasy. Not as much as me. When someone says something that snarky and goes on and on about them being horrible renters...do you really want to up to the idea that the only reason you are living here is because of the Violent Closted Gay Guy he so wrongly mistook him for?

Ick. Makes me feel icky. But I will up to that. Because (like most) He never treated me wrong either. I think he was the only one who told me that he was moving out. He never told the landlords. I did. When I called and asked if I could move in. He moved out on a Tuesday. I moved in the following Friday.

========================================================
Hans and I start kicking around the idea of buying this place? How much would that cost? We wonder. That would be cool. I think we could feasibly do it. But we never *owned anything* of this magnitude...and what would that entail?

I don't know.

All I know is I don't wanna move. I hate moving...I whine I moan..

I STOMP STOMP STOMPY my feets.

*mumble*

===================================
Deliverance just arrived

(drawl) My boss is geevin' me a harrd tyiime. I came baack and re-uh-lized. I'z wuz at the wrong plaace.

STOMP STOMP STOMP.

What a great afternoon.

 

[Shaun Landry]

The Seven Ten Split

I saw Kamikaze tonight at the Purple Onion with Matt Kaye from Los Angeles...(From Chicago).

I was in a REALLY bad mood when I got there. This afternoon I with out with Goldstar Wonder. I finally meet her. We eat Japananese food in a place that is built really for drinking with food as an after thought. They had those big bowls of what I call "Backwash Booze" The big stinger bowls that you share with ten people.

I get a call from Nathan. He wants me to come to the theater. He is having a Pajama party. i had no clue they were using the damn Anon Salon Space that was not all the way cleaned.

Fuck. I head from way out the fuck of nowhere from this meal and head to the Climate theater. I get there at 4ish..

I'm there til 8:15. I'm not a happy person. I do get a call through all of this from Mr. John Bergman of Gesse Theater Company. I forwarded my home calls to my cell....and there was Bergie.

Bergman: Landry. Yeah.
Me: Bergie.
Bergman: Where are you.
Me: John. I'm on the roof of the Climate Theater in San Francisco looking over the skylight helping get ready a pajama fetish party with improv going on beforehand.
Bergman: (A notorious freak) Lots of ass fucking?
Me: Not yet...nor will I be there to witness it. I just don't roll that way. I like my ass fucking one on one and without an audience.

We talk like we have always talked for the last 23 years. Our loves. Our worlds. The Politics. He is in country and heading to Portland to do drama therapy there. He talks of coming to San Francisco. I know nine people who are drama therapists here and improvisers who would love to take a class from my Bergie.

It is becoming Geese Company Family Renuion. Bergman. Razowsky. If Stonkeking was coming here...everything would be complete.

Bergman was my first real improv teacher. He was also my first love. He will always be my love. He is crazy. he is a genius. Now, that I got the man figured....it is all about giving him a load of shit. I wish I had that gift when I was 18.

I offer him to teach classes here. He is a theatrical experience of his own.

The Revolving Guys give me beer. They have a *JAMMED PACKED HOUSE* I just cant be social. I stink..And I have already missed the first ten minutes of Kaye Guesting with HWFM. I watch some of their show and wait for Magic Absinthe Boy to come and pay me.

Thank god I keep clean clothes at the space now. MAB showes up looking like Hugh Hefner. Pipe and all. Kitty Cat shows up in PJ's. They bring in signs that say: "WARNING: If you come past this point you must unrobe. If you do not unrobe...you give the permission to let other people disrobe you.

Ugh. I want OUT of here. I get a tounge lashing for not having the space together. Whatever the hell. Just pay me...I got to get out of here.

I hooker bathe in the bathroom and put on the last clean shirt I have (a horrible paint splattered on purpose piece of art from Feathers from her Art Gallery Room) and grab a cab to the Purple Onion.

Meanwhile Hans keeps calling me. He does realize I cannot call him back...because the phone is forwarded to the cell phone. STOP CALLING. GOD. I'm FINE AND NOT FUCKING ANYONE.

====================

I get to the Purple Onion about halfway throught the HWFM show. They know me there now. They just let me in. Without the tickets Jill sent me. Feeling a little like "Improv Norm"

The show is good. Another jammed packed house. The improv world is shiny tonight. Sold out R.M show. Sold out HWFM show. Good news. Good times.

And there is Matt Kaye. Looks just the same as when I saw him perform with Jen Ellison in Fat Whore. He is doing HWFM...and he is making me chuckle. He was picked (like me) as the protagonist. Of course.

The show is over...I say heys to the crew...and then head up to smoke before Kamikaze. And there is Matt. He has not given up smoking. Well thank god for that.

Him: (smiling) Hey Shaun.

I just smile. I'm actually really surprised he remembers me. It has been more than six years.

Me: (hugging him) Hey you. I just took a hooker shower at another theater after dealing with their upcoming fetish pajama party. I'm kinda pissy. How are you?

I realize. My first words to him are fucked up and like I just was bitching about something at Second City...but deals with fucking festish party.

Does not even phase him. God love him.

We head downstairs and I watch Kamikaze.

By the end I'm bowled over in tears of laughter along with the rest of the audience.

What San Francisco Improv is lacking is something important. *smart and edgy improv combined* There is right now no happy mix of the two. It is either clean and tame improv that is safe and you know where it is going to go...

...or it is just bullshit shock factor improv. Look! I'm fucking a sheep! I'm So Edgy

Matt Kay is what I remember. He plays realized characters. Incredible realize characters that are wonderful, quirky and so smart. He has a well spring of information that is boundless.

A man in the audience asks for a science theory of a well known scientist I had no clue who he was. Kaye did...He explains the theory back to the man and says in his nerd scientist voice "Is that correct sir" the audience member says "You are absolutely correct...but I still don't understand the whole premise"

Kaye says: Let me put it to you in simple terms. Say you are having sex with your wife. Something really nasty and funky. That is an experience you share.

Now if I was watching you? That changes the WHOLE EXPERIENCE. The whole audience went up.

And the 7-10 split.

San Francisco Audiences are so 'Tell me about your life and your world' kinda shit. God love them.

Kaye is playing a man who is a coach teaching bowling (the suggestion). He fields question from his class (The Audience on bowling)

All the questions were happy relationship stuff "Is it Lonely on the Road?" Do you find love in Groupies" Blah fucking blah.

I was fucking tired. I want to hear a bowling question. Then I went "Shit. I'm an audience member"

He asks for one last questions...and I raise my hand. He looks at me and says yes?

Me: Seven Ten Split. How do you do it?

Kaye's Face lights up like the happiest man in the world...he says "seven ten splits are FUCKED"

Then he goes into a hilarious explanation on how to chuck the ball really hard down the lane...and finally says "My advise it to just get the seven and ten first...then deal with the middle pins later"

I lost it. We all lost it.

It was a solid one man show.

Another nigga who people just need to learn from.

He took off his shirt at one point doing a perfection drunk character. Letting his whole body go. It was amazing.

On his arm he has tatooed the word "Free"

Fucking. Punk. Rock.

Matt Kaye is talented beyond belief. I wish that motherfucka would move here.

 

[Shaun Landry]

Free Sunday!

I woke up this morning pretty sad. It is quasi gloomy...and I know...I just know that I had to head to the space and see what damage has been done from the PJ party Magic Absinthe Boy had last night.

Last weekend I was just horrified. The last party by Santa Hat and Leather was a nightmare. The place trashed and destroyed. It took hours with crew to get it just to look *dirty*

So I expected the worse. The ultimate worse.

Hans makes me coffee. I sit at my desk and I feel my back do the morning pop and spasm. I just shake my head through the pain and wish to every current, god, diety and Dead Science Fiction Writer for a Free Sunday.

I put on my warm slicker Nike Coat and head over. I walk through the gloom of San Francisco. I get close to the space and the usual tweekers and freaks are partying downstairs. Rain snow sleet and hail...These freaks party withouth avail.

I open the door of the theater and take a deep breath. Generally I can tell the state of upstairs by the stairs themselves.

I walk in. There is one plastic cup. One stir stick and a lemon. That is it. I feel one of the dieties have answered my prayers. I only hope it was not the Dead Science Fiction Writer.

The place? Spotless. Cleaner than when I left it yesterday. It looks beautiful. I look downstairs. All the garbage is actually out and in the cans. The cans inside. Dumped and freshly relined. The bathroom. No glory holes and smells wonderful. The Roof. Spotless. and they even put the walls up to the Canopy...So now the roof looks like a beautiful alternative wedding venue.

I head back downstairs and stood in the Theater and I cried. I cannot believe I'm crying like this. It is tears of joy. I wake up Magic Absinthe boy.

Him: My wonderful Negro Princess.
Me: I LOVE YOU.
Him: (giggling)
Me: OH GOD I LOVE YOU. YOU HAVE NO IDEA...(chocking up) YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW HAPPY I AM RIGHT NOW..ESPECIALLY AFTER LAST WEEK.
Him: You are welcome.
Me: I'm going home. Go back to sleep. My god...I love you right now.

...and I walk home. I have a Free Sunday. A sunday where I can be a human and wash clothes and watch T.V. and sleep and make a real Sunday dinner...

And let people come to me. The No Nude Ladies called. She comes over and I give them a set of keys (Even though the main No Nude Man has them...he is doing another show in another venue and has a hard time passing off the set he has)..

As a perk (especially after these lovely women actually HELPING last week to clean and me reimbursing them for two rehearsals) I gave them the key to next door...to hang on a roof fit for the wonderful queens that they are.

To hang and chill under that canopy. Because I'm now proud to say that this is a space *you want to hang out on*

Free Sunday. No pants. Me at the computer listening to Stevie Wonder's Don't You Worry bout a thing.

Thank you gods and dieties for answering my prayers today. Except for the Dead Science Fiction Writer Guy. You are just creepy.

 

[Shaun Landry]

Because Starfucking is as American as Apple Pie

Robert Wuhl has a new HBO show out I'm watching called "Assume The Position" It deals with history and he has set it in a classroom setting.

We vote for the most popular person. From the high School prom all the way down to our president...

Because..starfucking...IS AS AMERICAN AS APPLE PIE.

I can't stop laughing at this.

The term Starfucking has crossed over into the American Vocabulary from entertainers who either like to fuck starfuckers...because they are giving it away for free...and you know that this sad little gnome of a human will probably start trying to keep your attention by offereing all sorts of shit to you...

And of course the starfuckers themselves who fuck stars to either say they have fucked a star..or in hopes that they can further their own tragic careers off the backs of someone else.

Betty Lou has worked with Weird Al Yankovic.

In actual fact..Betty Lou drove Weird Al to and from the Airport. And gave him a stick of gum...then badgered him enough to give her a tamborine and stand on stage with the band.

Now starfucking does not necessiarly mean you got the cock of Harrison Ford in your mouth while this years Oscar Supporting Actress has a stap on and fucking you up the ass.

Hell...it does not really mean this person is even on an A-B-or even a Z list.

It is just someone in your own little world of whatever you do that you think will beehove you in being something yourself.

Starfuckers and Butt Boys. People who bend so far over backwards just to be someone through someone else...that they no longer have a their own personality.

They are just a Starfucker. Or a buttboy.

And like wuhl said: It's as American As Apple Pie.

I was told once by a guy I was fucking that he felt like "He had won an award" Because it seems in his own world...I was some sort of 'Improv Star'

Now one would assume you would go running and screaming into the night and be done with it. But when you don't think you have any sort of pull or star quality at all? You just think it is some sort of nice thing a human would say to you.

that is, until, the person acutally uses the term "Starfucker" in reference to him to you.

And you STILL don't go running and screaming into the night. In my mind I think (when you have a real low self esteem)

You don't go running and screaming until you realized they have hung around you long enough to get thier own "Improv Pull" and they finally find someone who will be their personal starfucker. They got what they really wanted. Not the supposed "star itself?" But what the star has. Just enough viability in their world to be the "Star" and getting the minions of Starfuckers. You have run into the night *way too late*

You have created a monster. the worse of the people who get starfucked by someone is the ones that have no idea that it is even happening. Because they think "Who the hell would do that sort of shit"

that person would be me.

=======================================================

What I find great about Starfuckers who actually don't fuck their Stars? It is like Jr. High. They know they can't really fuck the target because they would never be interested.

But you can offer things. Things you can barely get for yourself.

I will give you a million dollars and a gallery opening. The Starfuckers say.

They can barely pay thier own bills. They work at Starbucks during the day and run up their college credit cards by night...just to impress and get love from the person they are starfucking. And they will do this...so other folks under them can go *wow* you brought down the biggest art gallery person every...may I fuck you...since you sorta fucked them.

And the vicious cycle continues...

Becasue? Starfucking is as American As Apple Pie.


Robert Wuhl had me in tears the entire show. Maybe I can call a friend of a friend that knows him... and offer him 3000 dollars...yank some people I already asked to do the San Francisco Improv Festival and have him do a one man show and host.

I don't have three grand...but if I sell off some of my artwork off the walls...and ask my sister for 1000 saying it is for oh...I dunno...groceries or something.

He should appreciate the irony.

Because Starfucking?

.....
...

Pie. American. You betcha.

 

[Shaun Landry]

The Monday Night Make Em Ups.

Tonight, Hans and I attended.

In attendence were some wonderful faces from the jam over at the Climate and a slew of people I had no idea who they were. The owner of the Comedy College was there and showed me the new arrangement of his gig. He yells "SHAUN...SO ARE YOU STILL FEELING THE BURN OF THAT NIGHT"

He was one of the judges at that nightmare of a show at The Make Out room in San francisco. "Oh fuck you!" I yell...and we hug to make sure the rest of the people around knew we liked each other.

It was a great house. A man with the words Heathen on his shirt. Another man who has seen me in Negroes.

Heather..who came up to me very somberly and said "Do you remember me Shaun?"

Me: I'm so sorry.
Heather: It was under really bad circumstances. I met you on 9/11
Me: The Cigar Store.
Heather: The Cigars
Me: Us drinking whiskey and toasting better times.

We hug for a very long time. Then we break and I say "Boy...sure glad we got that situation taken of quickly...huh?"

We both laugh.

====================================================

What I love about this jam is something I have always wanted and it happened and it was awesome: People don't run up. The host from SPF7 puts your name on a list beforehand. The list also ask if you are down to do some short form games too. From there, instead of having people run up ... *The Host randomly picks names off the list*.

So you have no idea on who you are going to play with cutting out the idea of ensemble and friend nepotism and forming clicks.

It.
Was.
AWESOME.

I get picked for the first set with students from the class. One was a fourteen year old boy, who was just hilarious and fun. That real sense of play. And if he was two feet shorter...he was officially be an adult dwarf. He was SUPER SMART.

There were three women there. Me. Christina and Regina. We just had a great time messing with this little man. Regina plays so sweet and innocent with a wry dry cut sense of humor. She shined more than I have ever seen her. It was liberating.

Lots of hugging. Lots of support. Lots of positivitiy I have not experience in a very, very long time. A lot of cheering for people.

Jay/Joe laid down rule number one: First thing...there are are a lot of people here who have never performed...or they are new...or they have been doing this for years.

Rule number one. Everyone here is *equal* and everyone here gives every player the utmost of respect.

This gets a sound and resounding applause. I go through spurts of hating the world of improvisational theater.

Tonight. Again gave me faith.

I'm going back next Monday. I have found a new place to play and workout and take risks.

 

[Shaun Landry]

June and December

...and I have done good things. I officially booked out the old space officially today with the exception of June and December (December being a tough month because of the holidays)

I head to meet with the improv Sketch Comedy Group on Friday to chat and talk Tix Booth and all that happy happy crap.

This morning I get a call from some artists that need to get into The Space. I wake up all bleary eyed...throw on the clothes from last night...grab my umbrella and let them in to work on Magic Absinthe's Boy stuff for his upcoming four week tour of Vegas and Europe. it is a little wild for him right now because of all of this...so I try to hold the space open for him to rehearse and to get ready to go on tour.

Meanwhile I get a call from The Onion. Kitty Cat has been talking to them about sponsoring the festival...and this cat named Steve called me after they sent me an ask for to be on The Alliance Myspace. I wrote an Onion Like Comment on their thing:

I like people to like me. Especially newspapers. I have a need to have lots and lots of newspapers on myspace as my friends.

The Minneapolis Weekly? The Deluth Free Press? Whip and Bind Magazine? These are the nameless faces I crave for.

Thank you Onion. Thank you for the add.

Please, love me. Your entire editorial staff. I have Tuesday Nights Free.

Shaun Landry
In need of Publication Love.

He is taking me to lunch at an "Onion Sponsored Resturant" He tells me "The talk consist of me slapping an Onion paper on the table" I tell him "Well it is a haul to the mission to get an Onion delivered by you...but if it comes with cheap lunch...I'm down"

It will also probably come with Sponsorship too. I email Kitty Kat to come to this meeting. I seriously want to throw myself out of this. I just want to pass off things on my plate and have a nice cheap lunch. A plate of something I can actually *eat*

Not my job Mantra. Let the people I hired do this. Mantra. I trust, I trust, I trust.

Get an email from Joe/Jay. He tells me Overton might be coming to the upcoming Make Em Ups...and that he is going to try to drag Williams with him.

I email him back and go "That's nice. I hope you do not make the Make Em Ups about that the week they show. Because it is about playing." Sure. It's nice that they will probably show. Just as long as they get the same amount of play and stage time as everyone else? Cool by me.

Because Starfucking. Yeah. American as Apple Pie.

Live that Rule Number One.

Today I head over to the Festival Theater and chill with the crew there. Black Shakepeare lover will be there and we are going to hang out.

We are going to do some painting next week of the dressing rooms and the Green room. Each of the Dressng rooms have beautiful showers in there for people performing. So I'm going to buy fancy towels and soaps and shaving stuff for the ensembles coming in.

Impov Ensemble Rock Star Treatment.

Email from from Photo Guy for big name company. They want me to be their full on casting director.

I don't know if I want to take that full on. That will eat up a lot of time in my life. But the pay to The Alliance is wicked stupid. A type of pay that makes investments like The Alliance own space.

God. I think I need to hire on employees if I take this.

It is Tuesday. Maybe if I can find some free time in December...I can just sit in the space I have not rented yet and breathe. Maybe, I will just rent the space myself to do that.

 

[Shaun Landry]

Callback. For another Role

I had all but forgotten about the role I auditioned for. The gritty cop thing in an indy feature shooting here. All but forgot about it. I figured...hell they did the casting already...and there you go.

Tonight I get an email. It is from the producers. I got a call back.

But it is not for the gritty police person's role.

It is for a character named "Nadine"
big heart and southern wisdom, major scenes with female lead. think oracle in matrix.

I'm getting that Matrix feel...all over again. I auditioned for a role when the movie came out. It got stumbled and bumbled through my old agent...and nothing never came out of it...outside of The Casting Agency calling me and asking me to be one of the seven High Priestesses on set of the matrix. That was cut. And thank god. That movie went on way too long. I felt myself drifting off during the second matrix in the movie theater and was totally disgusted with all the weird double talk.

"You are an engima in a lie in a truth in a flaky crust." Oh god. Shut the fuck up. "You are a shadow but are solid...you are living in the a world or not. You are the walrus. Coo coo a joob." MAKE THIS FUCKING SHIT STOP!

So I get that email. Cool by me. My age range. I got braids. I can do that. Send me the sides. that is all good. they liked me enough to consider me for another role. that is a good sign.

Then I look at the times and date for their call back:

11-5PM. *this saturday*

The same time as the Photo Shoot Auditions I'm running for big name company that wants to hire me on as a casting director. Great. Just friggin great.

So now I have options.

*Beg the callback people to schedule me different time
*Sneak my ass out of the audition...try to run to Alameda to do an audition and run back for to help the rest of the audition.

I opt for the latter. I send them back an email:

I'm actually running a Photo Shoot audition through my company The San Francisco Improv Alliance on Saturday.

But the grand thing is...I'm the one in charge.

I'm available. Would love to audition for Nadine.

Shaun Landry.

It has been a really super good week so far. Great Improv Play on Monday. Callback for a movie today...

Free Onion Meal tomorrow.

YAY!

 

[Shaun Landry]

Oh...by the way...I'm Black.

This is now my pre-amble to every single person who I have a phone conversation with that I have to meet in public to talk business with that I don't know.

I head over to The Maverick Wine Bar in the Mission to meet with Onion People. I get there early. the meeting is at Noon. I arrive at 11:30

They sit me down. I tell them I'm waiting for someone from the Onion. It's a wine bar. a beautiful 8 month old wine bar. I try a Merlot from Roanake Virginia and wait.

Around 11:50 a man walks in. I don't pay too much mind. I make eye contact. He looks and looks away and talks to the owner. I think he works there.

So I wait about. The lunch crowd starts showing up. It is now Noon. I sit at the front windows and wonder where my Onion people are...while I watch a Crack transaction of brothers right in front of the joint.

12:15. I'm a little pissy. I order food. Fuck this. This is a nice place and I can afford it. I order the unlady like steak and fries and forgoe the more dainty cesar salad on the meal.

By 12:30 I'm angry. I call up the onion office and get the voice mail of the contact. He has his cell phone number on it. I call it...and no one answers.

What the hell is this some sort of a joke? a minute later my cell phone rings. It is Steve. I say...Where are you...I'm at the Maverick.

I then his odd far away stereo as he says...I'm here too. I turn my head around...and there is the man I made eye contact with who ignored the living daylights outta me. With him his another contact from the Onion that actually *knows me* from the old jams at the Climate.

I just start to laugh. I walk over to Steve and say..."Oh...by the way...I'M BLACK"

Lady Fair tells him I'm terribly funny. I say. Not as funny as all of this.

I play this race card for as much as I can. It is hilarious to all of us. My "Professional Voice" does not sound african american in that "what you expect african americans to sound like" sort of way.

My food comes. They order. I pick at my unlady like steak and fries. A curly fry getting stuck on the sleeve of my biz jacket. Professionalism is now out the door for all of us as we laugh our asses off.

The San Francisco Improv Festival is officially sponsored by the Onion Newspaper. I leave with not only a great sponsorship deal...

they brought a schwag bag full of Onion stuff. A 2006 Onion Calendar. Two new Beer Mugs with the Onion Logo and the words "I Like Beer" and a punk pin of some fat white girl with dark hair and glasses.

The pay for the two glasses of wine and the steak and fries. they won't let me leave the tip.

I like the Onion.


I get a ride home from lady fair who knows gapped and Paul E from Turtle rock. She wants to jammy jam...so I invite her to Joe/Jay's Monday Jammy jam.

The sun is out today.

And I'm still black. With a non black sounding voice an a Cajun/Irish name.

Shiny. Happy. World.

 

[Shaun Landry]

The Other Life

Today my sister sent me pictures of her impromptu trip to The mountains around Washingtonn State with her youngest kids (the twins and Ashley)

It seems from the pictures she has bought herself a hitch like RV. They have also bought dirt bikes.

The pictures she sent me is a life I kinda have always made fun of: Poor Ashley assembling her bed that is actually the kitchen table of the RV. The boys climbing in woods...the actual RV parked in a deserted dirt road part of the woods...and the walk towards the lake looks like the opening from The Andy Griffith Show.

Kids on Dirt bikes.

Here is the thing...I'm looking at these pictures and everyone is so happy. Scott throwing a football to Nick and looking happy. The kids hanging out on a bridge and waving. The boys bringing actual electrical gear and and dancing to their ipods.

Even Ashley was being silly displaying putting together her kitchen table bed.

I looked at the surronding at first and went. "Wow...that is pretty damn hick"

By picture 23? I wish I was living that life for a moment. How cool, to just get away with your kids and have fun and be a family.

I gave this life up a while ago. With the unlikely chance of ever having children, I will up to this: Damn fucking skippy I was jealous by picture 23.

Oh how urban I am. So damn urban. Me with my Urban Lifestyle and Theater shows I attend and do...and my micro brew in the glass I picked up somewhere on tour in lord knows where...and the lunches I have in the afternoon with a book...and the "Oh so intellegent conversation with people I barely like...an in return...them barley liking me...and we both know we don't like each other...but we are oh so social"

The Urban Market down the street where I can pick up my goat cheese for my Spinach, raisin and walnut salads...and fresh mint for fresh Mojitos to watch a little Frazier...

Then come here to blog.

The life I choose. And I look at my sister's husband throwing a football in puddles of nasty ass dirt to his son in front of a used hook up RV and say "I wish I had children and that"

I'm so witty. So fucking witty. My urban life and coy witticisms does not throw me a football back and say "This is so much fun, mom!"

================================

Today my urban lifestyle self has been offered me to attend Killing My Lobster's Hi/Lo Film Festival and Opening Party tonight. The Onion Boy asked me to come.

Sounds like a great time. I get two tickets so I can bring Hans too. I'm starting to hate going places without him. I really enjoy his company more than I ever have of late.

Maybe if I still feel this way tonight? We can buy a football and throw it back and forth in The Brava theater...

Or just over the cocktails during the party. When they ask? I can just say...If I can't have children and go on trips with them?

I might as well throw this football to someone here.

 

[Shaun Landry]

Tell The Truth...Or a Spectacular Lie.

Its one or the other people. Because if you tell the truth? That is cool. If you tell a Spectacular Lie? I will be so impressed by your lie...that I will not even say anything. You took the time to craft the most retarded lie in the universe. Good for you.

Don't make it a lame half baked lie. That will just make me mad.

This happened today. I'm over at The space getting ready for the Madness kids tonight...and the Audition for HP tomorrow and I hear the doorbell buzz over and over again.

I head downstairs and there is a lady there. She asks if this the place where the HP auditions are. I tell her yes.

She then goes into this quasi angry story: "My daugher was supposed to audition she say" She had no idea who I was. Probably because I looked like crap.

...and was holding a broom.

"what is your daughter's name" I ask. She gives me the name. I know she is not on the list because her name ended with a Z. I say...I know for sure she was not sent an email for directions.

"HOW WOULD YOU KNOW" she says all indignant.

"I'm Shaun Landry" I say. She stops. She turns bright red. Then she starts to backpeddle. and lie. Bad.

"Well, we called the number and the voice mail was full and it said 'The Voice mail is full"

My voice mail...(which has seven voice mailboxes) are not full.

Me: That is impossible. None of the voice mails on our system is full. What number did you call...and when did you call it"

Her: (getting pissy) well TODAY.
Me: When?
Her: An Hour ago!
Me: This is what I want you to do...do you have your cell phone
Her: (nervous) yes.
Me: Take out your cell phone and call the number you call. (pointing to my cell phone on my hip) It should ring to this phone, considering I have transferred the office phone to my cell phone...and I have been here now for the last two hours. (she stares at me confused and scared) No really...pick up your cell phone and call the number you called.

She then says "Well...I don't know what number I called... I think I read the audition on sfcasting."

I was through. She was bothering the living shit out of me...and lying to me to boot. The first honest thing she said was she saw it on sfcasting. I just call her out.

"Basically maam...what you did was come over here...hoping someone would be here to try to get your daughter into an audition she was never scheduled for because you just saw it today on sfcasting. Is that the correct assumption?"

She says "Yeah, I guess"

Me: Well the auditions are full. But HP is doing other auditions on their own. If you actually *really call me* around 7ish? I will give you the email of the contact to the next auditions. Right now? You need to leave. I have things I have to do. Do you understand?

She thanks me profusely. She is now backpeddling. She is now apologizing. I stand there. Emotionless. She finishes. I say "Right. Goodbye then. And close the gate on her and walk up the stairs.

She is very lucky I did not end "Oh, and I feel sorry for your daughter considering you are probably going about fucking her over in her name. telling the worse lies ever."

If she came to the door and told a spectacular lie for her daughter...I would have been impressed to maybe squeeze her in. Something like:

I saw the listing on sfcasting...and my daughter would have called in earlier last week to see if she could get it...but you see? She came down with s rare tropical disease that made her violently cough up blood for the last week. It just stopped and now she is just strong enough to (sob) pursure her dream to be a part of this HP audition. Oh miss with the broom and the dirty jeans...PLEASE...can you help us reach those dreams?

Please...be a dreammaker.

Yes maam. That was AWESOME. Yes maam...I will.

==========================================
Last Night was KML Hi/lo Film Festival (Hi Concept/Lo Budget). I knew It could not go wrong when the program had the excerpt interview with Samuel L Jackson from the Low Concept/High Budget internet/cult movie before it has even come out SNAKES ON A PLANE.

Lev did some of his animation. He did animation also for the Drug Diaries. Wonderfully funny. A guy searching for Space Diamonds in his carpet. A KML piece for The Vagina Party. A hilarious animation piece on a girl with an unlucky foot.

And one which was kinda Hispanic and looked like a live action .swf of something from Peanut Butter Jelly Time. Me and Hans and the whole audience was WHAT THE FUCK. At the end...I screamed AWESOME like Shaun Himmerick at the Funny Women's Festival Chicago. Everyone was screaming at this 'What the Fuck" Mexican offering just lauging our asses off.

The Onion Boy was there with two hotties. He is 25 years old and I think he is just digging the idea that he works for the Onion and can hang with Hotties. We set a date for next week to talk about all the full page ad stuff.

KML guys hugging and being cool. Hans and I did not stay too long for the after party. My back was a little achy...and he just wanted to go home.

It was a really nice night out. all I could do was sit quiet in the cab and every once in a while look at Hans and blurt out SNAKES ON A PLANE!
======================================================


I did the final books for The Madness Kids and pulled off the Ticket Box Office online. They are sold out for their final shows. Their houses have been friggin incredible. I think it has been from all the media and the sweet Backstage West article they got. The money they put in they have made back (according to Yoga Boy) two weeks into the run. They also expressed the same thing The DM guys expressed: New faces at the show.

Even Magic Absinthe Boy was terribly impressed last week at their sold out house. "What the hell are you doing for them" He asks. I say "That is not just me baby. That is them too. They get it. They really, really get it."

This is what makes me happy. The idea of having a sucessful run in improv both from the idea of making profit and nobody going into the hole...to people seeing and digging seeing improv.

I like these guys. I offered them all the Wednesday or Sunday Nights they want. Hopefully weekly. They can have it. The space for cheap. Real cheap. Build a following. Be rock stars. I support that. And them.

=======================================

I got the sides for the audition. I got someone to ride me to Alameda. I hope I don't fuck this up.

 

[Shaun Landry]

I Smell Sex and Candy

Brotha. This surely is a dream.

Wake up at 8AM...get to the theater. Set up for HP auditon...at 9:30 I'm taking pictures myself for HP to get that out of the way for the rest of the auditons. Phototgrapher cracking me up like Austin Power.

TIGER...GIVE ME TIGER...NOW ACT LIKE AN EMU...YOU ARE AN ANIMAL...(throws his professional camera in a pile of pillows) AND NOW I'M SPENT.

The pictures he shows me. They are hilarious. Love this guy.

Hans all chatty chatty. Again, more than I have ever seen him. Turns out he is chatty chattyfor the festival.

Now HP is a sponsor of the San Francisco Improv Festival. I'm stunned. I did not do a damn thing. That, was my man.

Head off to audition myself for movie. *NEVER ASK FOR A RIDE FROM A PERSON WITH A DRINKING DISORDER* I got to the audition ten minutes late. Fucking nightmare. They loved my read...but that does not offset that fact that I'm late. Call this movie role a day.

Back to the HP audition all day. Regina Love brings a Cuban Family with her. That was the higlight. The youngest was awesome. The adults fight on who is taking this kid home. The oldest daughter is 13. She looks 23. She takes the first shot that is so stunning..the photograher show us the photo...then whispers in my ear. My god...she is fucking 13. I feel sorry for her parents.

30ish people in all. I'm all exhausted. I grab BK and go home to Hans (who also did the audition).

I eat. Then I figure "I will just take a nap before I get redressed for the Closing of Revolving Madness Show back at the theater"

It is six. I fall asleep.

I awake at 8:10.

Fuck. You know what? Fuck this. San Francisco Audiences have been LATER. I get dressed...go to the Urban Market and buy champaign and Milanos for the cast as a Thank you.

I get there and they are at intermission. The place is jammed packed. I honestly think walking to the theater that maybe this is a anon salon party, because a lot of people are hanging outside.

No. This is the audience outside for Revolving Madness. Holy Christ. It is a mad house in there. They turned away almost twenty people.

Inside I see the boys from 15 Minutes. It was awesome. I take them behind stage, because that is the only place that is comfortable at this point and I introduce them to "Improv Radio". Something I like to do if I can. I either close my eyes...or go behind stage and listen to the show. I find out that doing this...You can tell how much the audience is digging it...and if you understand the improv without visuals.

They were killing out there and it was just as funny listening as it was watching. That is the pinnacle of an excellant improv show for me.

Me and the 15 Minutes Boys head over early to the Luna Lounge. We are the first ones there. They do not card us and we just walk in. We order drinks and talk comedy and fuck around. After a while... I wonder where the RM guys are and go outside.

There is a line out there. Most with audience members of the show. I yell. "YO! REVOLVING MADNESS!!" and half the line at the luna screams. Then I see an RM lady go..."How the hell are you already beyond he velvet rope"

I dunno. I don't know what the fuck sort of mojo I have that I can just walk into joynts and not get carded...not get asked for money and all that shit.

I just look at the ticket guy and said "I gave this cat head". That made the line laugh. Then I turn to the guy and say "Jesus Fucking Christ...let these guys in for crying out loud"

A minute late...the line starts coming in.

I don't know *what the fuck it is*

The rest of the night was all about "Being Shaun Landry"

Tonight I was not Shaun. I was not yo baby. Tonight I was motherfucking Shaun Landry.

The full name. Where niggas are walking up to me going "Oh my god... You're Shaun Landry"

And the people who did NOT know me? They were all "OH MY GOD...YOU ARE NOT 40" 24 year olds. My ID card got more play tonight than it ever did convincing people I was 40

I headed out with Big Hot Sexy RM (this kid is FINE. I mean Roger Ramjet/Los Angeles Stud/Dumb Ass FINE) and his posse of peeps. We start hitting "Clubs" a ritual...I have not done since i was 22ish.

First we go to the Shadow Lounge underneath the Climate. I get in free...because...well...I have gone down there enough to tell them to turn their shit down.

Great god on a Ritz. The music was fucking aweful. It was ear bleeding fucking bad. After ten minutes in that place... I personally had to get the fuck out. It was just fucking bad. NO ONE was dancing. It was fucking tweekers standing there listening to this horrible loud D.J mix fucked up whirly sounding bullshit.

My teeth turned fucking cold.

We all head out after ten minutes and climb into a car. Everyone is now announcing their ages...and I go quiet. The youngest is 21 if he is lucky.

Everyone in this car? They are old enough to be my sons and daughters.

What. The. Fuck.. Am... I .... DOING IN THIS CAR?

I shut my yap and not freak them out. I don't want the old fart to ruing their good times. They end up meeting up with someone celebrating their 27th Birthday at a bar that is way too expensive for all of them.

Shit. I Got 200 Bucks in my pocket right now. I at least treat the Hot Sexy RM boy to drinks. And the wonderful Gay Rent Head Friend.

The Bithday Friends Arrive. The oldest of that group is 34. We talk about life and love. He flirts with me. The younger ladies get freak. He is kind of the "Worldy Guy the Chicks Want to Fuck" Dude of the group I lay off and turn my attention to Gay Rent Head to not make the chicks pissed off at the table.

It was a really, really good time. I come super close to heading back to Gay Rent Heads place to cook the chicken and spinach in his place...but my direct know person (Hot Sexy RM Boy) is going home...and i really don't want to be in place full of people I just met.

So we all haul back into the car...and they drive me back to my home, which is not far from where we are. For some reason everyone starts asking me shit about my life and beg me to come to Gay Rent Heads Place.

No I just want to go home.

Sexy Revolving Madness then lays some shit on me that was so hilarious and funny to me...and even for once in a long time flipped me out:

Him: Hey Shaun...Can I tell you something and you won't get me flipped out?

Me: (tired...here wer go) Baby...I don't get flipped out anymore.

Him: When I came over to the theater and you were there before the dance auditions and I hugged you......You smelled like wonderful sex. I mean hot, hot sex.

Me: (stunned)...alrighty. (then singing the Sex and Candy Song) I'm so sorry.

Him: It was hot. You just ooze sex.

Me: Well, anytime you want to have sex...just call me.

And I got out of the car...I hear the words screamed out of the car by 20 Year olds: I LOVE YOU SHAUN!

I don't even look back. I yell...I LOVE YOU ALL TOO.

My life is so odd. Meanwhile I yearn for an Hook up RV and kids and my kids throwing a football.

I can't shake the sex and candy smell.

 

[Shaun Landry]

I got it. I just don't know what.

I got a call today from the people I auditioned for. They loved what I did and want me to come and pick up a script.

It is not what I auditioned for. I have no idea what it is. I just really was not listening very hard on the phone. Expect how to get to the place they want me to pick up this script.

So, I guess i'm in a movie.

Got a call right after that from the other director. The Preview of the Movie has been bumped to May. It's killing me. I want to see this thing and get it out of my system.

Onion Jenny called hunting for HWFM boys phone number. We chit chat and we are all going to head over to the Clubhouse tonight and chill with Onion folks. Tomorrow night I meet with the head guy for biz over drinks.

Sent an email to the Photo Shoot folks thanking them. I'm now getting together all the digitals and giving them to the improvisers who want them. There are some great shots of folks that they can use for color headshots. It is just so nice that they were offered for free. That sort of rocks hard. And to add to all of that folks getting selected will get paid 700 bucks a day. That makes me feel sorta good. Shit...I hope they pick *me too*

They also asked me to send them price rates on advertising in the Program. And also how much it would cost to put up a mini film for a festival.

erg. Sure. I can do that.

Hans mom and dad have been calling. They have been calling both the house and Hans' work a lot. He has been sick and she is calling. A lot. She asked why I could not come down and I told her the truth: "We just cannot afford to go together right now...and I have to be here for festival stuff and now...this movie"

She told me we should be saving money.

Little do they know that we have been not only paying our bills...we have also been paying their gas and phone bill too. It's not a lot. But it's something.

I just laugh and say on the phone: "You know how much I like fancy dinners"....and not say anything.

Both Hans and I have been doing relatively well since the beggining of the year...and because of their medical bills? It has cleaned out their account pretty bad. Hans has been managing thier money and building back up their bank account by taking some of the burden off of them and paying the bills until they can get a little more solvent again.

We both feel we owe it to them. Even with the whole rocky start of our relationship (her disowning Hans because I'm Black) they have been more than loving and generous to us over the last 20 years.

We. Owe. This. To. Them. As much as I grouse about Mrs. Summers? I love her. Even when we seperated/divorced/re-married? She called and wondered how I was. We. Owe. This. To. Them.

They have worked hard in their lives raising children for over 60+ years. And one illness? Destroys everything they have saved. And Hans Brother is an ass...and his sister's husband just had double bypass surgery...

Me and Hans feel the children need to step up. We. Owe. Them.

So Hans leaves to Florida at the end of this month for a week. He has given me Carte Blanche to have a party.

I told him cool. I don't know if I should call it The Mice Improv Party...or The Fabarge Egg Improv Party.

I'm hoping I'm not so old that nobody gets the last reference.

 

[Shaun Landry]

Rap Battle! And Justin Lamb!

Oh man this thing just keep getting better and better.

So Hans and I head off to the Make Em Ups. We hit the Jewish Resturant on the corner and get seated early. It must have pissed off the people who arrived before us...but they were being freaks by (according to the hostess) coming in and standing behind the counter and writing their own names on her list.

I get a phone call from Justin Photographer in the resturant. He proclaims I need new headshots. Cool by me. Hook me up brother! He is giving me free headshots. I'm so glad I met him.

We eat a lot of food then Food Coma walk to the Comedy College. It is right next door. After a big Jewish meal...it is the longest walk ever. I give my leftovers to Sammy Wegent.

The place is pretty damn full. My gorgeous blonde barbie is sitting in now on the stand up classes. Regina fair is there. Ann Feehan makes an apperance. All of SPF7...folks I met at the improv dance audition. The midget kid is there...

And Mr. Justin Lamb. Fresh off a plane. He is officially living in San Francisco now. This is good fucking times.

And it gets better Jay/Joe tells me he met this dude who does Human Beat Box and trying to sell his CD's. He says he is going to come. Sure. Some random guy on the street I think...riiiight. Sure he will be back.

he comes back. I think he is going to be some crazy crack head. He's not. He is a pretty decent looking white guy with a cool hip hop look.

This jam is So. Much. Fun.

First round is awesome improv.

Then we were supposed to do the short form sign up...

But it turned into Dirty South Improv Rap Battle. Oh my FUCKING GOD...this guy gets up on stage and he is fucking incredible. Me, Lamb and SPF7 are in fucking hog heaven with acid flashbacks from Toronto's Rap Battle.

I get up to battle Lamb. he wins (Punk. he got the I'm tired off a plane vote)....then he gets totally rapped punk'd by the 14 year old kid! This child broke him DOWN improv rap wise. He then gets all messed up by an SPF7 member. It. Was. AWESOME.

Second Round. Hans gets up with Christina and a bunch of other folks. He is getting laughs. It is a funny set full of instigation and joy.

Final set is me, a guy named Adam (I believe) with a major Jew Fro...A guy who I met at the Improv Dance Auditions...and another fellow who is now swapping boxing tapes with Hans.

It became the Shaun and Adam Show. the other two guys were not editing us at all. It started off with me serving lattes (the suggestion from Feehan was someone getting knifed in a cafe and getting his computer stolen) and him "Coming through the Drive through" and begging to be with me after a one night stand.

It was so wonderful playing with this guy. So innocent and stalker at the same time. He was possibly the perfect stalker in the world. At one point we were doing a sustained scene for over five minutes. NO ONE WAS EDITING US. The other guys were on the sidelines. Laughing. Finally we got a huge laugh. Looked at each other thinking we were going to be edited...nothing happened....

...and we both at the same time RAN OFF THE STAGE to a big whooping applause.

God. It was a fun jam. I'm all floaty floating. Eons ago...I used to have this conversation where you do improv and you have so much fun and the improv is so much fun...that you have a hard time sleeping because you sit and you think about the eve.

It is 11:58. I will be up for a while.

Me, Christina, Hans, Regina and her man head over to the bar next to O'Douls. We have fancy high end drinks at their last call and we joke about.

Tomorrow morn I talk to a store in San Francisco who is donating free booze to the Festival...then I meet with SPF7 boy Mike about his Commedia Class...and Justin to show him around San Francisco. Later in the day...more drinks with the Onion.

I was asked to perform again with HWFM on the 29th and then again with The Laughtermath on Thursdays in May.



I'm improvising again. Thank Motherfucking god.

 

[Shaun Landry]

Happy Improv People

This is the greatest thing ever. Seriously, if everything else I want to do career wise falls through, I still have this. I can still watch this happen once a week. That's how I feel every set that goes on. I want to cry a bit at points-it's going exactly how I saw it in my head. - SPF7 boy.

When I moved here I used to get a lot of happy emails from Happy Improv People. How awesome the work was. What a great time and having fun. Hopes and dreams email and phone calls. The ones where it just makes me smile from ear to ear and be happy for them. For everyone. And for me.

Granted, I still get those great emails. But they lacked off a lot from 2003-2005. Mostly it was Miserable Improv Emails. For two years there I did not want to even get close to my computer or even pick up my phone...because I knew...I just knew...*something was going to be wrong before it could even be wrong* or there was going to be a misery call. A neruotic misery call. If something was done or not. A call on Wednesday worrying if there were reservations for Saturdays and the ultimate call three hours before showtime on how many people are in the house.

Calls at least twice or more a day of just plain old misery and sucking the life force outta me and hearing myself saying over and over again: "Don't worry everything is going to be allright. "

To at the end even I was wondering if everything was going to be alright. Never felt that way in Chicago. Never Felt that way in Seattle. Never felt that way at the worse times at Second City. I always knew everything was going to be alright.

By 2004 here in San Francisco? I was seriously wondering if everything was ever going to be alright again.

And then the conversations just consisted of either "Don't call me about this anymore" or "I have no damn idea if it is going to be alright" and then thinking "You know? I really "Don't care if it is going to be alright...maybe we should just fail since this might make everyone happy...since we talk about the possibility of failure all the time"

Generally at a day job the "I really don't care if it is going to be alright" means it is time for me to leave. I never wanted to feel that way about improvisational theater.

Middle of last year? I talked to Hans about enrolling in Culinary School. And between waking up with a burning stomach...being carried out of the theater on a strecher with Sciatia...Rubbing my stomach in the middle of the climate when I was pregnant being in so much pain...and the Miscarriage a week later while watching myself on Television...and just standing in the middle of the house crying during the whole ovary scare?

And not getting one single email or phone call during all of that time from the same people asking me if everything was going to be alright?

I was beaten down. I was convinced from all the emails and phone calls and my body screaming at me that Nothing was going to be alright.

I left there for a while. Did not want to be around anybody. Did not want to do anything. Just needed to get away. And during all of that I remembered what the shrink when I was 19 told me when I was going to sessions when I was in Geese: Change your environment.

And that is what I did. Changed it radically. Cut things out of my life that I thought was toxic. I did not have to put up with the yatta yatta noise that was in my life.

I'm going to go back to basics. And that starts off with dealing with making sure everything is going to be alright just for me first. The rest will fall into place.

As soon as I became positive again?

Shiny happy emails from improvisers who love what they do. There is no failure. There is nothing but that positive tip of "Lets just do this and have fun"

I came to my computer today and had this email from SPF7 boy and a followup email to me from him telling all of us to celebrate him and his fiance being together for two years. There was this command:

I demand that all of you celebrate immediately! Start drinking! Now! That includes you, Uncle Larry. If you aren't raving drunk in an hour, than you
obviously don't care about my happiness.

This email made me laugh outloud.

The one on the top had me grinning from ear to ear and a little weepy.

I will have one for him at lunch with The Onion People, justin and mike.

Everything? It's going to be alright. For everyone.

 

[Shaun Landry]

The Onion Gets Festival Producer Drunk
April 11th 2006

San Francisco, CA: In a surprise move The San Francisco Onion gets Shaun Landry very drunk at a local eatery.

LOVES SHUM ONION PEEE>>>PLE!....I LUV YOU GUYS! I luv you. WHO WANTS TO SEE ME TITS! WEEE! MOJITOS! I GOT A MOTHERFUCKING CREDIT CARD....FUCKING YEAH...QUARTER PAGE MY ASS...WAA...DON'T YOU FUGGIN CALL THE COPS ON MY BLACk ASHSS...I'M FUNneee...SO FUNNeee... SNAKES ON A PLANE...NO FUCK YOU .... NO EAT YOUR TUNA AHI BULLSHHHIIIT....I'M DANCING NIGGAS I'm DANCING!

Ms. Landry's family who have been in hiding since the incident, could not be reached for comment.

 

[Shaun Landry]

No Shiny Object Zone? No. Just Shiny.

No more Shiny Object Girl today. It is noon. This is my foray to taking a break. No shiny object...will not get sucked in...

Yesterday night was all about the festival. Hardcore. No Shiny Object. No answering emails and call about other stuff.

Justin has been in town for less than three days...in that time he had an interview with a job, an audition with Stars...and said "sure..I'll design your postcards and flyers"

Then did them the next day. This kid is a fucking rock star. So last night I put the suckers to print. And I designed all the ads and sent them off to The Onion. Onion Rafi cracks my ass up.

I attempt "No Shiny Object Zone"...I got missions. You see, I don't write a fucking thing down. I just set my coffee machine last night at 7:30 and said:

Wake up.
Drink Coffee
Send off stuff to TBA
Ad Onion Stuff to everything
Update Site with Justin's name
Follow Up with HP for Sponsorship
NO. SHINY. OBJECT. WORK.

I wake up. I get my coffee...

And of course, anything planned changes. This is why I don't write anything down. I just have quiet goals I know will change and morph. You just roll with that shit.

Email from Onion Rafi from ad I sent him: Can you put Sponsor by on it?
Me: No. It's impossible. *Of course I can*.

Get into Fireworks. Two seconds..send it off. Email back. You are a rock star.

Yes sir. Yes I am. WAIT..SHINY OBJECT GIRL...must do TBA stuff.

Start working on that. Email from Onion Rafi: Here is a contact for you to have a beer sponsor.

...FUCKING ROCK. No, dude....you sir are the rock star. Johnny Walker Red for you kind sir.

Call up Beer Company. Dude as chill as hell and awesome. Send him off Sponsorship stuff. I get an email from Onion Rafi saying he is going to get me a logo. I get online and get the logo and...

SHIT..SHINY OBJECT. STOP THIS!

I'm still at Drink Coffee...which has become lukewarm on my desk.

Then things start jumping: HP boy emails me before I can call him. They want to do sponsorship...but they have not decided at what rate. I send an email back and say...hell a hot biscuit and a used laptop onsite is fine by me....Then he starts talking advertising and money for that.

...glavin. Sure. I have shiny object jumped over Theater Bay Area. But this is done.

Must. Do. TBA.

Get the excel sheet. Fill it out. Send both over. It is now 10:30. Okay...shit...what was there...okay...Justin's name. Jump over Onion Stuff. That takes a second. Get into Dreamweaver add his name to the site..upload. Takes two minutes. Good.

not tweleve yet. start adding Onion to everthing. Also start adding Beer Logo and ticketweb and Buriel Clay. Done. It's 11:30.

Then I realize I need to upgrade the Press release online. SHIT. SHINY OBJECT. Must be done. Afternoon project.

That is until I get the email from The DM kids. They want to rent the space again. Two second later...email from No Nude Men Kids. They want their Poster on the Space's Website.

Strange ass email from crazy chick who came to Wacky Dance Audition asking me "Why did you send me this email"...and the bottom part is dated IN MARCH

Blasting emails. Forward email from NNM to Space Webmaster. Send DM Kids Schedule of space....then send Crazy Chick her email back saying "Please look at the date"

It's twelve. I want to take lunch...writy write on my blog...

And drink cold coffee.

Shiny Object Zone. Why deny it? Just live it.

And its a nice way to live. I'm shiny object girl at work...and my work is improv.

Shiny Happy Times.

 

[Shaun Landry]

Technology.

I'm always continually surprised by what we can do now compared to just ten years ago.

Today I started faxing from my Scanner/Fax/Copier in my office to concierges from the ad I created in Fireworks. I realize that my phone was going to be tied up (and still is) so I forward my phone calls to my Verizon phone withouth having people go to the numerous voice mail boxes...

Meanwhile I'm sending off emails to people.

Ten years ago this day? If I used my computer to fax press releases? That would be a all night affair on a Sunday without being able to get online or on my phone.

I'm still stunned by the whole idea.

Today I get *an email* (While my machine is currently still faxing) from The Mercury News. She says "We would like to interview you about Youtube."

This is the *second news reporter* who has called me in less than a three week span regarding this service. All by just uploading my stuff to the system and making it searchable.

Ten years ago? I could not *afford to even put any of my videos up online* No one but editors had decent computer editing equipment. and ten years ago? Hans was just into the wonder of figuring out how to afford a burner for music. Now, our entire house is wired to Burn DVD's. The system hooked directly into the cable into the small tv on Hans desk to literally burn on computer *live while it is going on on television" and him editing and burning...then me uploading onto Youtube.

And of course...who knew? Ten years ago A newspaper would not be calling me out of the blue for the second time in a row to talk about Technology.

So, She calls on my cell (because I'm still faxing) and I start talking to her about artists, improvisers and the internet medium.

Then she gets a treat to one of my brainstorms. She asks me where do I see this taking me using these services.

"Seeing the San Francisco Improv Festival through youtube". Then the brainstorm hits: "show clips each week of the festival of the shows. teaser clips. If they want to see the full show? You can put in the Youtube to link to another site to "Pay a fee to see the entire night of the improv festival"

That way not just audiences in San Francisco are seeing the ensembles...but people can see it nationally and internationally for a fee...then I can pay out actors who perform from the online profits"

We both get real quiet.

"That is a great idea" The Mercury News Lady says. I just brain spewed on her and stunned myself. I said "No shit that's a great idea. Please write that in your article...so I can remember to actually *do it for next year*

So I think this is what I will do for this year. A way to have clips of the festival seen...and maybe be able to pay actors and improv ensembles who get selected out...*evertime their show is choosen for full viewing"

Shit. I'm going to email Every festival director I know.

I can. Because I can still email while my fax is going right now.

 

[Shaun Landry]

The World Contains Rock Stars.

This morning at 9AM I wished that Single Entendre guy would call and come over early so I can show him the space instead of at noon. I forgot that I have to wait for a Fed Ex package that contains the big ass juicer he ordered.

Like Magic at 10AM Single Entrende guys calls and says he is actually in the City (From The East Bay) and would pick me up from my place to go to the space.

Fucking Rock star. Come on by dude!

He picks me up in his tagged car. He has had his car stolen *twice* and found...and the inside is all tagged out. He says it gives it character. I call it A classic Improviser/Sketch Comedy Car.

He is terribly attractive. Silly attractive. I show him the space and the roof. We joke about Ren Faire and Dickens Faire. I give him a deal on the space. He asks me if I want a ride back..I tell him I'm going on a diaruetic walk for Coffee and Smokes.

Then that awkward moment. I'm a hugger. But I just met him. So it is this awkard handskaing sort of thing. I finally call that move out.

Me: (laughing) Don't know you well enough to hug ya bro.
Him: If you give me the space for a hundred bucks. I will so hug you a lot.
Me: (Raising an eyebrow) Shit. What would you do for 25 bucks?

We both start laughing. Rock star. Like this guy.

Get home and realized FUCK...supposed to meet the Pretty Funny Lady People at noon. Some glitches in communication on all of our parts has only one person wanting to see the space scheduled for noon. I get an email from Funny Lady Stacy. We then start emailing madly back and forth. this is when I should be on some sort of AIM system (which I no longer use. At one point I could not hold any conversation without four or five AIM's pulling up)

I get the call from Funny Linda. She is still in the east bay. She says: You just got back from there...and I'm still here...Do this tomorrow?

Fucking. Rock. Star. I say yes. Five minutes later I get the email from her:

"YAY! I put my pajamas back on!! YAY!"


weeee! Rock Stars! Supa Stars!

Hans calls me up. He is coming home early because everyone seems to have turned Catholic today at Kaiser and did not show up for work. He calls me up.

Him: "Hey baby"
Me: Hey Sexy
Him: So...Whose has pretty postcards?
Me: They are done already??
Him: Yup. I just walked over to PSPrint to check it out...and they told me they did them and gave them to me. Do you know someone there?
Me: NO.
Him: The chick behind the counter says she loves you, and got them done quick. The posters will be done on Monday.

FUCKING A' Hans? ROCK STAR. PSprint lady? ROCK STAR! We got postcards way before I even thought I would get them. I put them in two days ago with a five day delivery schedule to save money.

Fucking. Rock. STARS.

Email from Monkey Jody. She is all over the volunteer thing for the festival. Rock Star.

Justin sent me more draft stuff for cards. Rock star.

Razowsky added himself to my myspace. It was his birthday a few days ago. He is and always will be a fucking rock star.

My world is filled with shiny Rock Stars. And it is a good Friday.