As some of you may know, I am an actor.
As such, I needed an acting reel. So, I made one myself.
It is way too long. Professional ones are usually about 2 minutes, but this gives me something to show off to the internet. I'll likely make a shorter one later.
Enjoy.
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Halloween House
November.
I hate November.
“Hey Larry, you can take the decorations down! Halloween’s over!”
I REALLY hate November.
I guess I should explain. Every year, my house is known as the best for Halloween. Whenever the neighborhood had a Halloween decoration contest, my house always won. Eventually they refused to consider my house for the running, saying that I had won too many times in the past, it was time for someone else to win. It was all fine to me, I never wanted to compete anyway. You see, I never put up any decorations, this is just the way my house is.
Sure, during October, everyone loves my house and wants tips from me. I have to buy tons of candy for all the trick-or-treaters that come my way, even. Once November 1 rolls around, though, my house goes from being the hot spot in town back to being that weird place that bleeds from the walls.
Yeah, that’s right, bleeds from the walls. Only on the inside, thankfully. Still, company doesn’t stay over very long.
Between that, the constant cobwebs, the indescribable moaning coming from inside the walls, and the spectral images in any reflective surface, I’ve become something of an outcast to anyone that has ever come over.
Outside doesn’t fare much better. Bats circle the chimney, an eerie glow is seen in the windows of rooms no one is inside, and pumpkins grow wild all over the yard. Er…
Pumpkins is the wrong word.
Jack-o-lanterns.
Jack-o-lanterns grow wild. Already with faces carved into them. Sometimes the faces seem to change from day to day, as if they’re moving while no one is watching.
I’ve been told many times to stop carving up my pumpkins in the middle of the year. “It’s March,” they say, “There’s no reason to have your pumpkins carved like that. How are you even growing them out of season?”
They just don’t seem to get it. I have no control over my house anymore. I haven’t bothered in years.
I used to, you have to understand. I used to try to cut away the jack-o-lanterns. They would just grow back twice as numerous. I used to try to clean up the cobwebs, blood, and other substances I can only assume to be some sort of ectoplasm. It all comes back twice as strong as soon as I look away. I even tried to get the house exorcised, figuring I must be on top of some ancient burial ground or similar typical curse scenario. Nothing worked, and no cause for all this has ever really been found.
So, every year, come November, I start hearing about how I “should really take down all my Halloween decorations, they’re scaring the children,” and every year I try to explain that I have lost all control over my property.
They never listen.
They always forget.
So every November: “Halloween’s over, Larry!”
God, I hate November.
Oh, and before you tell me to just move out, you try moving to a new place when no one will buy your old haunted monstrosity.
So, I’ll be here. Year after year. Quietly hating my situation.
Do come over for tea sometime. I could really use the distraction. Just, try not to mind the blood dripping down the walls.
I hate November.
“Hey Larry, you can take the decorations down! Halloween’s over!”
I REALLY hate November.
I guess I should explain. Every year, my house is known as the best for Halloween. Whenever the neighborhood had a Halloween decoration contest, my house always won. Eventually they refused to consider my house for the running, saying that I had won too many times in the past, it was time for someone else to win. It was all fine to me, I never wanted to compete anyway. You see, I never put up any decorations, this is just the way my house is.
Sure, during October, everyone loves my house and wants tips from me. I have to buy tons of candy for all the trick-or-treaters that come my way, even. Once November 1 rolls around, though, my house goes from being the hot spot in town back to being that weird place that bleeds from the walls.
Yeah, that’s right, bleeds from the walls. Only on the inside, thankfully. Still, company doesn’t stay over very long.
Between that, the constant cobwebs, the indescribable moaning coming from inside the walls, and the spectral images in any reflective surface, I’ve become something of an outcast to anyone that has ever come over.
Outside doesn’t fare much better. Bats circle the chimney, an eerie glow is seen in the windows of rooms no one is inside, and pumpkins grow wild all over the yard. Er…
Pumpkins is the wrong word.
Jack-o-lanterns.
Jack-o-lanterns grow wild. Already with faces carved into them. Sometimes the faces seem to change from day to day, as if they’re moving while no one is watching.
I’ve been told many times to stop carving up my pumpkins in the middle of the year. “It’s March,” they say, “There’s no reason to have your pumpkins carved like that. How are you even growing them out of season?”
They just don’t seem to get it. I have no control over my house anymore. I haven’t bothered in years.
I used to, you have to understand. I used to try to cut away the jack-o-lanterns. They would just grow back twice as numerous. I used to try to clean up the cobwebs, blood, and other substances I can only assume to be some sort of ectoplasm. It all comes back twice as strong as soon as I look away. I even tried to get the house exorcised, figuring I must be on top of some ancient burial ground or similar typical curse scenario. Nothing worked, and no cause for all this has ever really been found.
So, every year, come November, I start hearing about how I “should really take down all my Halloween decorations, they’re scaring the children,” and every year I try to explain that I have lost all control over my property.
They never listen.
They always forget.
So every November: “Halloween’s over, Larry!”
God, I hate November.
Oh, and before you tell me to just move out, you try moving to a new place when no one will buy your old haunted monstrosity.
So, I’ll be here. Year after year. Quietly hating my situation.
Do come over for tea sometime. I could really use the distraction. Just, try not to mind the blood dripping down the walls.
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