Things I do

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[allisonscottactor-blog-blog]

A Day in the Mind of an Unproductive Writer

First things first! I need coffee in my mouth now. And vitamins for thought clarity. I really should have stayed in bed a couple more hours and let those thoughts accumulate in my brain a bit more. Then the genius sentence fragments would just fall onto the page. Maybe using my favorite juicer in the whole world and sucking the living juice from kale, spinach, apples, celery, cilantro, and other delectable produce products will energize my brain! Oh hell, who am I kidding? I hate that shit. But I know I’ll hate looking fat and stupid even more while standing in front of a huge group of people next month in that less than flattering bridesmaid dress.  Much to my demise, photos last a lifetime….and it seems it takes a lifetime to write a book…that will eventually last someone else’s lifetime? Too profound. Since I’m already on the topic of double chin photos, I guess there is no avoiding that I need to go run a few miles and go for a vigorous hike to jumpstart the fat burning process. No, but what about my book??? It will have to wait until my fat learns to deplete itself. Writing doesn’t burn as many calories as running up a mountain. Really unfortunate….

4 hours later: I’m really not doing too badly. I have 10 chapters. I think maybe 30 or 35 total would be ideal. I guess it also sort of depends on how long each chapter is too. Shorter is definitely better, since people don’t really like reading anymore anyway. Then that would probably up my chapter count to 50 or more. Yikes! Why am I writing a book if people don’t read? Right, I’m out to prove the dumb bastards wrong and that reading can be fun. THIS IS SPARTA!!!! Ok- enough being weird and concentrate. Where do we even begin? You know I’m just really not too productive after a certain point in the day. I’d estimate I hit that no work zone around the moment I roll out of bed.  I should go to a coffee shop to write. All the Starbucks in LA are filled with writers zoned into their laptops. Didn’t Starbucks make an anti writer law because writers sat at tables the longest and generated the least amount of profit and then the WGA said they were going to sue? I should look into that before committing myself to packing up my laptop and walking over to Starbucks. I should definitely go to the one in Boystown though. The ones close by here always have bums outside and wackos that are constantly walking in and out, and that is far too distracting. More distracting than being at home? Doubtful. Maybe a place with no internet access! Remember that really fancy 3 story McDonalds in San Jose Costa Rica that was built like a really upscale coffee shop and they sold gourmet deserts and stuff? That is NOT a place I would like to go right now….I haven’t seen my roommate in a few days, wonder if he’s ok. Maybe dead? Which would require a search party, so I will not think those types of thoughts and think he just went on vacation….as long as he still pays rent I guess I don’t really mind. What I should care about is implementing a plan of 1000 sit-ups per day. Not now obviously because I’m writing. I can do them later tonight…..I know I’ll probably be too tired then because 1000 sounds like a  lot. Yeah, I can 100% guarantee I’ll do zero. It would be better to find a happy medium between 0 and 1000, but I really don’t think that exists. I’ll just save up for that lipo thing that really isn’t lipo but it sort of is and it can make it look like you have a 6 pack. I’ll use my money I make from my book to pay for that. And pay off my car. And my student loans. How much do people sell books for these days? Don’t think that will be enough…hmmm…better get writing then, so I can start in on the sequel right away! I’ll have to figure out how to publish/find representation though once I get this thing done. I bet that will be ultra tricky, but at least when they ask me I’ll be able to say that I have a follow up book in store (in my mind) already too.  

            This whole thing would be a lot easier if I were at a lake house right now. Then I could relax in a hammock and write all day long. I wouldn’t be tempted by food because I wouldn’t buy any for the lake house. Only organic vegetables and fruit from the local farmer’s market so I can make my daily slime green juice. I could also swim laps in the lake for my daily exercise.  Too bad I can’t go away because I’ve got that audition in a couple of days. I should learn those lines. I’m not really into the film though, based on what I’ve seen. First of all, if you’re really "desperately searching for an actress with a solid background who doesn’t suck! Do they even exist in LA??" then I recommend you should have searched with such vigorous desperation when recruiting the writer because these sides are heinous. This is some of the most poorly written material I have come across in a very long time. “I love looking into your eyes when you sperm inside me,” should never be written in any script….especially when it’s not a porno! I’ll procrastinate studying that material for a bit and focus on my book because that’s where the big bucks will lie. Eventually. Music will surely help this ADD.

            2 hours later: I found the perfect Pandora station designed to enhance creativity, mental clarity, and sense of humor. However, this particular Pandora station did not reduce hunger, so I walked to Trader Joes for naughty junk food, ate it all, cried from shame, and turned on Netflix to watch uplifting documentaries.

Tomorrow is another day.

[allisonscottactor-blog-blog]

Will Anyone Ever Have Something Nice to Say About Michigan?

I get it. I haven’t posted one of these things in so long that you have all considered the fact that I:

-Lost my sense of humor

-Was abducted by a Canadian drug cartel

-Converted to Amishism and subsequently may no longer use the computer or internet.

-Was a victim of plastic surgery gone severely wrong and will forever remain in hiding.

-Post false Tweets about working because I really got too poor and moved back to Nebraska where I herd cattle on the family farm.

-Found an extra wealthy gentleman caller, so I no longer have any need for a creative outlet because an excessive amount of money really can buy happiness.

-Decided to pick up smoking crack on Sunset Blvd as new hobby simply because it’s easier.

-Got extra famous and have no time for average folk.

-Hopped a plane to Aruba and haven’t looked back, since lounging on a beach all day is far preferable to any sort of work.

-Died

While there are some really fantastic ideas embedded in that list, there is zero validity to any of them…I think. I truly am just one overworked and underpaid broad who hasn’t been able to find the mere minutes to throw one of these together for my lovely support system. It may be easiest to start right where I left off, so here is a blog dedicated to my month spent in Michigan working on a feature film.

9 Things I Never Expected to Happen in Michigan…But Totally Did

Racism Amongst Squirrels I witnessed an all white squirrel and a completely black squirrel battle it out on a fallen tree branch. Am I trying to connect some significant symbolism between the races of squirrels and humanity? No. It was just weird because I had only seen brown squirrels previously, and I want people to know that it actually happened.

Champagne Showers I had somehow missed the champagne shower phase during my college partying days despite the fact every rapper on the face of the earth continues to drone on about the experiences in their finest musical masterpieces. However, my CSV (Champaign Shower Virginity) was stolen by a 350-pound man who likes to go by the name “Big Spoon”…..twice.

Amnesia Night You may be thinking, Amnesia? Isn’t that for old people? To which I would like to respond, ”Not in Boyne Falls, Michigan.” The one and only hole-in-the-wall local bar promoted this event as a once-a-week opportunity to forget all of life’s pains with $1.25 for draft beer AND a shot of Schnapps. Anyone in LA or NYC is probably drooling at the thought of this, not because Bud Light and Schnapps are delish, but because big city bars are ridiculously expensive. I’ve even dropped more than $1.25 for extra ice in my cocktail! Sure that’s cheap, but how do you make 2 shitty drinks taste less shitty? Our solution, as per my boss’ recommendation, was Shoot the Root…which just made it all taste like root beer and rainbows!

 “Get outta here Chipmunk” was said numerous times a day by not only myself, but all other members of the production team were continually chasing, cornering, and hollering this remark at the pests. It had never even occurred to me that life would necessitate saying that phrase even once….unless you reside in real deep country parts where animals gots a many rights as dem humans…but I was guilty of shouting this expression a minimum of 8 times per day. Unfortunately, when the little creatures are scurrying across your feet, or snacking at the human food table, or climbing into your backpack, nothing more eloquent comes out (unless you count “Scat chipmunk!!” because I said that one a lot too). I guess that’s what happens when country rats are running rampant in the woods….and the homeowner forgot to mention that he feeds the rodents on a daily basis, so the grounds were a home front to hundreds.

 A Real Lady’s Woman I went to a bar with 3 of my attractive male colleagues, and the female bartender they all had their sights set on was far more interested in getting in my pants compared to any of theirs. Every time one of the guys would ask her a question, she would direct her response to me…and then wink. I somehow ended up getting her number by the end of the evening as well. This is by no means my way of suggesting that I want to swap teams. I’m just merely mentioning that I discovered I’m a magnet for lesbians and really old creepy guys (who also gave me their number that night).

Processed Food Death I officially ate enough awful junk food to turn me away from it forever. After 30 days of repulsive catering and fast food, I decided to finally learn how to cook real meals, and I bought a juicer (you’ll never be able to take the Hollywood out of me!!) In much sadder news, my body may never recover from that rough month (sorry future husband where ever you may be).

 Party til the Break of Dawn…and then Some Shattering any previous record of mine, I stayed out drinking until 10am. The shooting schedule we were operating under was called splits, which means we would all show up on set late in the afternoon and not get home until 3, 4, 5 in the morning. There is really nothing like starting the party on a day off at 4:30am and watching the sun rise with a tall boy of PBR.

I learned how to be a 2nd AD!!! …and that I probably never want that job ever again. I was essentially a glorified babysitter with a hint of office bitch. It could have been a lot more fun if they let me dress like a sexy secretary or slutty under-aged babysitter, but I had to settle for disintegrating jeans, V-necks, and smelly running shoes. There is no need to point out how unsightly said clothing made me look, which brings me to:

Rejection I was flat out told: “I’m not attracted to you at all. Never. I like hot girls who are kinda stupid…..But you’re a really good kisser. I’m pretty confused about how good you are at that. I mean: seriously. There are a lot of really hot girls out there who are bad at making out, but you don’t have that problem at all.”  Hearing that has absolutely given me a new perspective on life, and I now wake up each day and shout praises of thanks and gratitude that I’m not plagued with the disease that makes females hot and horrible kissers. You should all count your blessings too...unless you happen to be stricken with that particular illness. 

[allisonscottactor-blog-blog]

Ask Alli: Spring Edition

Lets face it. Everyone is a hipster at heart and desires to be in the know and like of the latest trends while they’re still lame, ugly, and unpopular (although this tactic rarely applies to picking spouses….sorry 99.9% of the population). Concoct that motto with a whole lot of shameless self-promotion on my end, and you have this here poorly edited post. However, you all loved it last time, so please cue some sort of noise for: Ask Alli

Hi,

Why you not write on them internets for so long?

-Lonely without you.

Dear Lonely-No-More,

            Obvi people who do not notify the world of their every move with a strong online presence are all the types who sit at home on the couch consuming the weight of a kid goat in raw cookie dough balls while petting their furless cats named Sir Meow-A-Lot. This is what I’ve done with my life anyway....

            Actually, that’s a lie. I do not have the fortunate of being bizarre enough to pull off such an amazing lifestyle.  My disappearance has mainly been work related. (No Dad, the CIA did not whisk me away to some top-secret spy training camp so I may master the art of disguise and killing). Thankfully the lean era of work has come to an end, and there is an abundance of entertainment industry jobs for me to pretend to know how to competently complete & snatch up before the more well qualified individuals even get a shot.

Forever with you,

A

Dear “AliceIn Wonderbed”,

What are all these so-called “films” about? I’m pretty sure I saw a flash of your side boob covered by your golden locks on a late night cable special….did you finally make the switch to taking off your clothes for money? If so, I totally just won the on-going bet at my office! $150 in my pocket….oooooh yeahhhhhh!!!

-Fratfully Yours

Dear Douche-O-Rama,

I tried signing up for porn once and they said I just didn’t have the “star” quality they were looking for, so no, that was not my brazen body prancing about the background of your favorite late night show. My most recent work has mainly been behind the camera, and I have specifically avoided any cameo appearances, so my nude side boobs are two that you will most likely not see for some time. I’m really excited about all of the projects, but there are restrictions as to how much information I may divulge. However, the basic run-down is as follows (this is the bit where I go all out on the self promotion): The horror feature film 'Blood Rites' I shot in Nebraska recently made its premiere and the producers are in the works of securing distribution (I play the token crazed cult girl in Amish clothing), My first ever feature film  to produce  'Hunt the Maguffin' is currently in the editing room...so yay!, The sci-fi/horror feature film 'Way Down in Chinatown' I’ve been involved with for almost a year now is currently filming in LA, I spent a few days on a comedy short 'The Interview' with an awesome new group of people that I would love to work with again, I worked on a made for TV Christmas movie which has been a dream of mine since I was a wee being, I’ve been collaborating with another producer on a web series that will hopefully blow everyone’s socks off, 'Wave Goodbye' is still going strong and there is a very good chance you will see a character come into play who oddly resembles this girl- so definitely stay tuned into the series for her, and I am currently out of California for the month of June working as the 2nd AD on a feature film. 

Sincerely,

AliceIn Michigan

Little Pickle,

MICHIGAN!?! Why in the hell are you there? I hear Detroit is where all the gangsters and thugs riot,…sounds very dangerous to me. I’m also quite offended you went to Michigan before coming to Nebraska again. I am considering redacting any inheritance you may be entitled to after this little stunt missy.

You Worry Me,

Gma

P.S. What does 2nd AD mean? Sounds sexual. 

Dearest Most Favorite Grandmother,

 I sincerely apologize for not staying current with my Tweets, Facebook posts, and blogs, but the internet and phone service up in the quaint village known as Petoskey is horribly shitty. I have entered land of the lumberjacks, and the gangsta-thug type is rather scarce, so I run a minimal chance of getting capped by a concealable semi-automatic. On the opposite end of the spectrum, we shoot in a beautiful 5,000 sq ft log cabin right next door to Ernest Hemmingway’s old place, and we see his grandson, Ernie, fishing and sitting on his back porch reading a book every day. I'm sure little old Ernie is also fully aware of what an overly cliche lifestyle he leads.

The entire cast and crew are beautiful on the outside (three thousand cheers for working with sexy men)....& in. Therefore, I am having the time of my life while filming. We live in lovely little ski condos, and my hunky cameramen roommates and I come home at 4am after shooting to sip PBR while watching the sunrise. Some would even venture to say that I’m living the dream. As for the 2nd AD (Assistant Director) credit...no sexual favors were needed to secure that position...only lies. I've decided that faking it is the only real way to rise to the top. "Where is the top?" you may ask, and my answer is that I have no idea, but I'm truly enjoying the ride there. 

Love,

The Littlest Pickle That Loves You the Most

[allisonscottactor-blog-blog]

How Movie Stars Get Free-ish of Drinks

It’s a running joke (I use the term lightly since some people are more offended than amused) amongst my LA crowd that I possess the uncanny ability to get a preposterous amount of attention and, more importantly, free alcohol whenever I go out on the town. Some of those people who are not under the trance of my bewitchery & charm are probably my friend, Nancy.

 Nancy is the type of gal who makes it her second career to find a husband, and therefore goes out every single night in search of Mr. Right. I believe her intense search has been underway for 2 years now and has yielded some fair results. Unfortunately, all the really good ones already had girlfriends or wives…except that one porn star guy…no, not Ron Jeremy…the other one.

 Anyway, Nancy isn’t a huge fan of yours truly, and this is the best explanation I can surmise as to why. Immediately upon hearing that one night I got 1. Free flowing specialty drinks from a bartender (which equated to about five), 2. Convinced said bartended to supply a handful of other individuals at the bar with the same free alcohol parks, 3. Got a ride home via a driving service in exchange for a hug, 4. Got the exact same driver to pick up my roommate and me from our apartment at 3am for a ride to the Roosevelt Hotel for some high quality burgers….also gratis, and 5. Then hailed a cab back home in exchange for absolutely nothing, Nancy exploded, “There are times when I go out looking like a movie star….people would seriously think Why is that celebrity sitting at the bar all alone? Those nights I may get one drink from a guy. If I’m really lucky sometimes a bartender will feel bad and comp a drink. NEVER is anyone in Los Angeles EVER allowed free cab rides! I’ll even tell them “I have $15 please take me as far as that will go,” and they speed off leaving me on the corner. THEN Allison shows up looking like a lumberjack and gets EVERYTHING. Free drinks, free rides, free anything she wants! Life is so unfair!!!” I would normally take great offense at that statement, but I will give Nancy a little credit because I was looking rather butchy that night in a dirty & paint splattered men’s flannel shirt with wooly boots…but I made sure ample cleavage was still visible (my not-so-secret trick to seduction). However, after learning that free drinks are her Achilles’ heel, I now make it my mission to excessively flaunt complimentary alcohol whenever I go out with Nancy (surprisingly…not all that often).

 Let’s face it though. This is Hollywood and some nights only the Hollyweird freak shows performers surface. How’s a girl to get free whiskey then? Answer:  Flowtab

 Flowtab? Wut dat? is what you all are probably thinking (or my more eloquent readers anyway), so I will simply state that it is my new favorite app on the iPhone.

 iPhone? Wut dat? is what you all are….never mind (I sometimes forget that my target audience is no longer all the cows I had to befriend growing up on the farm).

 Flowtab is insanely simple. You just download the free app, pretend you’re texting a plethora of stunning male models while you are really putting in a drink order for yourself at the bar, and then you may sit back and relax while you wait for the concoction to be delivered to your table. That’s how I do it anyway. The server will then bring the drink over and say, “Which one of you fine ladies is Allison?” I usually then raise my hand, act really surprised, maybe even blush a little, and look around to see if I can catch a glimpse of my secret admirer. All my friends totally love playing the Guess which guy sent over this drink game too! The server knows fully well what tricks I have up my sleeve, but the app also allows me to tip them generously when I place the order and home gurl bar maids ain’t gonna ruin dat dolla-dolla-tip-flowtab!

Moral of the story? Seek sweet revenge against all of your ridiculously good-looking friends with Flowtab. You’ll appear more desirable than any of them, everyone in the bar will envy you, and you’ll never have to wait stupidly long periods for a drink at the club again.

[allisonscottactor-blog-blog]

If You Flirt, They Will Come

The Results are in!!!

If you did not catch my last post please properly educate yourselves by going back and reading it, so you will be up to date on what is going on here. This is the 2nd part in a 2 part series, meaning you will be confused as confusion comes if you don’t read part 1. It’s not going to hack off that much time from your total lifetime experience, so just do it. Plus I'll give you a special prize for reading it (the code on how to redeem the reward is hidden within the last post)!

Again, I cannot thank everyone enough for taking the time out of their assumingly busy lives and responding to my personality trait ranking survey used in this 2 part (Ok- I'm done with that now) blog series.

Actually....that last sentence was false. I can put a limitation on my amount of gratitude to those who attempted to fill out the survey, but who ultimately failed….which was an embarrassingly high number America. I generally found the errors to be more amusing than annoying, but it did irk me a wee bit that I had to throw out so many responses due to improper protocol. #ScientistProblems 

            My mom started off the downward spiral by immediately responding to my mass email with “I don’t get it. Am I answering these about you or me?” Yes, mom, please tell me how good you think I am at sex on a 1-10 scale and if you could also let me know what you think my overall quality of life is, I would really appreciate it. I soon realized it’s not entirely her fault that she is unable to competently complete a short survey; apparently it runs in the family. I somehow managed to accidentally add my grandma to the email list and was absolutely horrified when I saw her reply message pop into my inbox. I let it sit there for a few days until I felt I was mentally prepared to see how my mom’s mom rated herself on far too many personal notes. I actually contemplated entirely deleting the message without reading it to save my mind from any frightening mental images, but in the name of true science and proper experiment technique, I read the letter. “My ipad won’t let me put numbers in your message, but I think I’m very generous.” Cue huge exhale of relief! That was until I scrolled down a pinch more to see that she had in fact included ratings for nearly all the categories. Perhaps her initial response was simply implying that she wanted to give herself a higher rating than 10 for Generosity, but didn’t really know how to go about doing it, so she just expected me to factor in the additional points for her. I will say though, that grandma is one confident broad! She gave herself a 10 on EVERY category….except Kissing- which got a 1, Sex got female, and the section labeled Male or Female was answered with “I am friends with both, but I am a female”, and she scolded me for asking her Age by writing “Not a polite question Allison”.  As much as I would have loved to include her responses, I don’t know how fair it would be to all the other individuals of the world that Grammie was unaware the numbers 2-9 also existed on the spectrum. Don't worry though, I greatly applaud her efforts and will still love her. 

My mom also came back 2 weeks later for the redemption round by properly rating herself on all of the options. However, I found a mathematical error of sorts when it came to the lifetime spent in relationships/marriage area. According to dear mum, she has spent nearly 94% of her life attached. Since I highly doubt she started serious dating at the age of 3, my other best guess is that Mama liked to share the love and dated multiple people at the same time over the years. Classy.

            Other than my fine genetic suppliers inability to properly fill out a piece of paper, I also noted that single men in the 20s range had issues with my probing as well. While a majority of them were quick to dish out 9s and 10s in the Sex and Kissing sections, they were also not hasty to entirely skip filling out the Age and Time Spent in Relationships bracket. Maybe they all just got so very excited by the thought of sex that they had to do it right away?...and that's why they didn’t finish the closing bit. There is no scientific evidence behind that last statement; only me rationalizing a trend.  Now that I am done tearing everyone’s intellectual abilities to shreds, below you will find my findings. Also, if any of you see any correlation within the results feel free to pass them along to me because I'm still here scratching my head over the mystery of this one. Love is a very queer thing.

I took everyone's information and created different permutations that scored each individual in 2 separate areas. The first being a 1-10 rating on how spectacular overall the person is in respect to relationships with others (1= unloveable, 5=making people happy in the middle of the road, 10=ain't no better lova). The second set is how well the individual utilizes their loving abilities on the classic elementary school grading scope (A= very efficient at spreading the love, B= dedicated at giving their love C= average, D= poor, F=failure). Just to reiterate my motives behind this entire process, I set out to prove that the less time one spends attached to a mate, the better lover material they are. Here are the most noteworthy things I found:

I ranked as the Venus champion, the cream of the crop, perfect 10, etc., when it came to how well I do in relation to romancing men...as it should be since this is my article and I gave myself the best scores on almost everything. On the opposite end, I received a F  for how well I commit myself to relationships. These results were a real confidence booster to prove I was on the track to success with my hypothesis! Things kept looking better too! 

The next highest score came in at 7.5 and this individual also received a F rating for the amount of time he has spent attached. While I would never want to dish out too much dirt on this guy, I will say that he has spent only .006% of his life "officially" with another man, which was by far the lowest percentage out of everyone. Then things took a turn for the worst....

 My #2 guy had to come in and screw it all by ranking 7.5 for his lover skills and he got a C for how well he's able to share his greatness with others. Thanks a lot **name censorship** for ruining my theory.....

The snowball effect really started to kick in and things kept getting worse (as far as proving my speculation went). The next scores in line were a whole messy mix, and there really was little correlation between any of them. Truthfully, there was absolutely no sense to the madness at all. Even the lowest lover score overall of 1 earned a C, and I had two people with 5s score A+s, and then my brain started to hurt, so I just gave up on trying to figure out love and relationships. My new philosophy is "If you flirt, they will come." I figure with this new mindset, I'll be un-single in no time!  

[allisonscottactor-blog-blog]

Love Potion No. 97.9%

                I’m getting to the point in my life (it’s probably a combination of unemployment and low bank funds) where I find the only option I have to turn to anymore is astrology. My fate is already laid out in the stars, so I’ll be damned if I‘m going to ignore that obvious approach to answering all life’s questions. The Libra Twitter updates I’m subscribed to have been very insightful and give me hourly memos on the many benefits of my birth-time sign.  Apparently, I am full of charisma, can’t make a decision to save my life…but I’ll eventually pick an option…and then change my mind 17 more times before ultimately deciding that indecisiveness is the best route, I have zero interest in politics and current events (*gasp* I bet Steve will be greatly saddened to know all his lectures on mass genocide in China and corrupt government officials were a total waste of time on my 7 year old ears), I care a lot about how I look and how others perceive me, but I am never really interested in their well being, but my class and charm cover all evidence of my total lack of empathy. The biggest shock came when I read that all Libras are in Love with the idea of being In Love….hahahaha. NO FREAKING WA—ait....wait. Now that I think about it, there is a lot of validity to this statement.

            When I run to the store and have the option of throwing on a dirty baggy men’s sweatshirt or a low-cut v-neck t-shirt, I will always choose the asset showcasing wear in case I run into my one and only true soul mate next to the banana stand. It’s sadly true. All I do is driven by this thought that is branded deep in my subconscious simply because of the way the stars were aligned the day I popped my head out of my mom’s privates. In less disturbing imagery, Allison’s True Love Safari Quest is a great tactic for anyone interested in getting me to partake in activities I normally loathe. “C'mon A! Lets go to the glitter & pink vodka night at the club…your future husband could be working there!” Ultimately, I will bitch and groan but then grudgingly oblige because I would be really pissed if I somehow missed meeting the one man on the face of the earth made for me (I have a feeling it’s Chace Crawford though).

            I know this news is probably a huge upset for most considering the fact I do not spend so much time in relationships with others (my career, yes, but rarely humans). Annoyingly so, far more than a majority of my life has been spent in Beyoncé’s Single Lady posse. 97.9% to be exact.

            Even though it is quite easy to get sucked into the unfavorableness of that statistic, I refuse to look at the negative aspects of that (probably depression causing) percentage! Just because I have only spent 2.1% of my life attached to a man does not necessairly mean I’m bad at relationships or that I lack the ability to act as a top-notch girlfriend. I’m really quite the amazing catch. To be quite honest, I feel I‘m far better at relationshipping than a lot of people who are the perpetual dater types. Just because I don’t brag and constantly talk myself up to potential mates doesn’t mean I’m not always thinking about how great I am…..while judging everyone else.

            Thanks to Brad Pitt, Aaron Sorkin, and Jonah Hill (amongst a slew of others) for their film Moneyball (worthy of 6 Oscar nods and 0 wins. Next year Jonah…next year is your time to shine with 21 Jump Street…ok so maybe not, but you’ll get my vote as long as Ryan Gosling steers clear of any noms…and of course all of that is dependant upon whether or not I’m invited into the Academy…so don’t put all of your eggs in that basket J. Hill), I decided the game of love could also have a mathematical equation attached in order to rate one’s loveability. ***Spoiler Alert*** For anyone who may have stupidly missed the film, Brad Pitt ate a lot of food, asked Jonah Hill to use some alien mathematics procedure to predict how well each baseball player would do on his team, and he put up with Philip Seymour Hoffman who stood around and acted like an asshole in tight baseball clothes.  

Therefore, I also created a love formula in order to compare one’s relationship abilities to their lifetime spent in an official relationship/marriage. I put my bets on the odds that people who spend less time romantically linked are actually better qualified overall at dating/marriage than those who incessantly dabble in the hobby. A big thanks is due to my wonderful family members and friends for filling out the survey I mass mailed asking them to properly rate themselves on relationship skill sets (if you did not complete it, expect some intense hate mail very shortly). However, none of the lab rats had any idea what my intentions were with these questions, so I truly appreciate their cooperation in supplying highly intrusive and overly personal data. I was also sure to poll a wide sample variety from all over the globe, so there would be no technical errors in the numbers (I’ve done enough science hypothesis projects to know the proper protocol…although I’m pretty much guaranteed an A+ with this experiment).

            The following is a copy of the love survey I mass mailed.  Feel free to complete the questions for yourself, so you will have a better idea of what category you fall into when I reveal the results next week! ***Semi-Spoiler Alert: It is completely possible to rate one’s likely hood for success with the opposite sex (or same sex if they’re into that), so you will definitely not want to skip out on reading next week!!

TOP SECRET PERSONALITY SURVEY

Please rate yourself on the categories below on the following 1-10 scale. 

-1 meaning: This does not describe me at all/I’m not interested in this matter/I’m very bad at this

-10 meaning: This completely describes me/This interests me a lot/I’m very, very, very good at this

-Everything else falls between accordingly 

  -Generous

-Listening abilities

-Putting others before yourself

-Fun/interesting personality

-Kissing

-Communicative (able to easily express needs/wants and easily understands others)

-Spontaneous

-Neediness

-Overall quality of life and happiness

-Passionate

-Sense of humor

-Forgiving (able to let things go/handles disappointments with ease)

-Sex

-Trusting

  Age (in years & months): 

 Total amount of time spent in official relationships (yes, marriage counts) (in years & months): 

***If you're truly interested in all of this, you may email me ([email protected]) your scores, and I will include them with my mass-finding report next week. I will also reply with your very own personal rating of "Lovability by A"  (All judgements aside. Only pure facts).

[allisonscottactor-blog-blog]

Beware of What's Creeping in the Background of Your Favorite Shows

            I will try to make this article relatable to everyone even though it deals with a topic that nearly all entertainment industry people are familiar with, but little seems to be known about the company to the outside world. I’m referring to Central Casting.  It is a service utilized by thousands each day in Hollywood to try and snag a spot prowling the background of prime time television shows or in the next box office breakout film. Job loss and drastic cuts in unemployment benefits will make people do crazy things…like selling their soul or signing up for Central Casting.

            I made my way to their offices during the allotted scheduled registration hours this past week. I had expected a line, so I figured arriving 30 minutes prior to the doors opening would be sufficient. However, I was somewhat baffled when there were already 70 or so patrons standing in front of me. Oh, and proudly standing they were! All clearly dressed in their premium closet selections, the background artist hopefuls all sported bright eyes and bushy tails that were filled with dreams of being part of the chosen group. Little did they know that Central does not discriminate, and they accept all registrations. As the orientation runner so eloquently put it, “We really take anyone. Some days we need dead bodies, other times we like people who look like they’ve abused meth their entire lives, and carnies are another big group we’re always trying to recruit.” Everyone’s spirits reminded me of elementary school picture days, but I think a lot of parents would be highly disappointed with what their adult children pulled for a wardrobe selection for their Central Casting picture day. The styles ranged from dollar store suits and ties to favorite denim cut off tops to compliment the green mohawk. My personal favorite was the daddy (yes, he was in fact a father and even brought along his little baby and baby mama) who sported a metallic bronze button down shirt that was so shiny I could see my own refection in the fabric. I truly believe the top was woven together with all the left over Christmas tinsel. Nevertheless, it was a very fancy choice. Baby mama was also quite striking with her zebra striped hair and chartreuse tube top that flaunted the 48EEEs.

            While we sat around for hours waiting to be next in line for a photo and while our legal paperwork was being processed, my true inner creepy-people-watcher got her monthly fill by eavesdropping on nearly everyone in the entire room. The following are my personal favorite bits of dialogue from the day.

 Highly overweight Russian woman in her 40 who could not read a lick of English and barely spoke the language who sat next to me and kept getting me in trouble by asking me the most basic questions on the form (like her race, sex, weight, shoe size, etc.):

 “This thing here- nudity. It mean naked, no? Of course I get naked! Yes, yes! They like my naked body.” 

Black man in his 60s who continued to grill the young female sitting next to him, who relocated to LA from Brooklyn 2 weeks ago, about the concept of luck and how it pertains to becoming eligible for the acting union:

 (After a 3-4 minute pause in their conversation) “Now what size shoe do you wear?.....Oh 7.5? That’s too bad. You know for your proportions, you look like the type who would have smaller feet. That’s really too bad…you see for some reason I always get boxes from Hong Kong sent to my house with the nicest pairs of women’s shoes, but they are always 5 and a half. Of course I never send them back, so now I have closets full of the nicest female shoes. Sure they come from Hong Kong, but they’re real nice quality. Really elegant and classy. “

 A rather round and homely looking woman in her early 30s who wore a nondescript outfit and reading glasses:

 (She raised her hand during the orientation secession for this question) “Now for the body measurements, do I actually have to write the numbers down? I always have to buy my clothes online because the sizes are weird, so I know no one in wardrobe would have anything for me. Can I just cross them all out and write ‘Too fat. Must special order clothes’?”

 Across the room a male in his early 40s that definitely fit the stereotypical Midwest man type was engrossed in the most in-depth conversation with a young female in her 20s (coincidentally named Allison…she spoke so loudly I think everyone in the place knew her damn name) about how he and his wife just had a miracle baby, and everything in life was going really well, and they were so happy and loved baby Ryan Michael. There was a momentary pause in their conversation, so he resumed chatting with this:

 “Yeah my dad named me after John Wayne, but I knew my dad about as well as I knew John Wayne. I never even met John Wayne if that tells you much. Pa left when I was 13. He was always beating us kids and stuff before then, so I guess we weren’t too sad when he was gone. I used to be sad about it, but then I realized it’s his loss for not being able to know me, and I really didn’t lose much at all by not knowing him. He was an alcoholic…” The story continued on, but I tuned him out at this point because it felt far too weird to listen in….poor loudmouth Allison having to deal with that one.

 I was forced to sit next to the most ridiculous pair of Asian ladies ages 26 and 27 (my eyes may have wandered over to the D.O.B line on their paperwork to get those exact numbers) who had the most absolute warped concept of reality I have ever witnessed. They were also both really catty and incessantly complained:

 “I guess I get to have my cake and eat it too! I thought dating 2 guys at once would be hard, but it actually works out great. I’ll probably break up with both of them soon though because this made me realize I can pretty much have any guy in the world that I want.”

A statement in retaliation to hearing that one of their friends is dating a guy who isn’t what they consider to be mature:“It’s not your fault she’s still with him. You can’t make people like that realize how dumb they’re being other than telling them, “It’s either your boyfriend or your best friend. Pick now.” I know why she’s doing this though. I mean, she’s 29, which means she is almost 30, and that’s when girls start getting old and desperate. They would rather stick with a guy who sucks thinking they can change him rather than finding a new man, but I guess when you’re old and 30 no one even wants you anymore. Disgusting. I need to find my soul mate before then.”  

 I can’t believe no one shared this information with me before! I guess the day was not a complete waste of time then, and I'm now taking soul mate applications over the next 7 years before I become 30 & disgusting for anyone who may be interested. 

[allisonscottactor-blog-blog]

Look Ma! Imma Gym Rat Now!

If there is one topic that has been completely extorted by health magazines, online blogs, and idiots with zero creativity, it is proper etiquette at the gym. Unfortunately, these articles cover the same no-brainer information in a carbon copy format. In the reckless and fearless abandonment I accomplish all tasks in life, I figured: why not take a stab at this seemingly impossible task? It’s not like I have anything to lose (my writing credibility is far too minimal to constitute).

Most people choose to write about how annoying it is when others yell like The Hulk to prove how buff they are, stupid sluts who text, read magazines, and take naps on the lifting machines, and gym rats doused in enough cologne to cleanse the stench of Mexico, but who opt to leave their sweat drippings on the treadmill along with the reek of Axe. As always, I would like to point out less obvious, but equally disturbing issues with the gym. (More specifically LA Fitness on Hollywood).

TOP 5 OVER USED GYM TIPS, WHY THEY’RE WRONG, AND WHAT I THINK THE WORLD SHOULD BE BITCHING ABOUT INSTEAD:

1. World’s Gym Tip: Don’t Grunt to Prove How Strongman You Are in Order to Get Some Action. Go ahead and grunt and groan away. Just don’t be under the impression your noises are impressive or turn us on. If you really want to be sexy, you should be making orgasm noises as you max out on those shoulder shrugs. I use this tactic quite often and totally get hit on all the time.

A’s Gym Tip: Don’t Hire a Personal Trainer to Get Some Action. Please make your trainer give you at least a 10 foot radius of personal space when working out. While I am a huge fan of getting frisky, I don’t want to be forced to witness your $100 per hour gigolo giving “pointers” and “support” in the form of ass touching, chest poking, and excessive caressing.

2. World’s Gym Tip: Don’t Wear Inappropriate Clothing. I am begging you to please do wear malfunctioning or inappropriate attire, so I may continue putting forth zero effort into my wardrobe selections. No one will be scoffing at girl dressed in head to toe tie-dye (me) when female stair stepping next to her has a nipple peaking from her too tight sports bra.

A’s Gym Tip: Don’t Wear Clothing with Beer Branding. I’m usually not one to hate on apparel choices, but the t-shirts decorated with logos of my favorite brews only make me think about how much more I would rather be consuming a 12 pack of advertised beer over straining my neck trying to gain a beautiful 180 line on my tricep extension. Please be courteous of those with IPA addictions, and save your alcohol threads for other social interactions, like church or a family wedding.

3. World’s Gym Tip: Don’t Violate the Locker Room with Unnecessarily Prolonged Amounts of Nakedness.I am strong supporter of nudist tendencies, so if you want to parade your dimply, saggy ass about the space, be my guest. If you’ve got it, flaunt it. You just can’t harbor any negative feelings when people stare for unnecessarily prolonged amounts of time.

A’s Gym Tip: Don’t Violate My Personal Space with Talk. I understand that when we were all wee beings, the playground was the place to associate, and the gym is kind of like a playground for adults. However, I do not show up to this grown-up playground of sorts to make friends; I do it so I can sound cool when I’m telling my real friends what I do with my life. If you find it absolutely necessary to approach me, please stalk me out of the building and into the dark creepy parking garage and wait until I’m about to hop in my car to strike up the conversation. I think all females can agree with me on this one; it’s far less annoying than chatting when I’m concentrating really hard on hip abductions.

4. World’s Gym Tip: Hey Weirdo, Don’t Monopolize Machines. If you would rather take a quick cat nap on the ab rocker over crunching away, go right ahead. You pay for your gym membership, so you are entitled to utilize the equipment however you please.

A’s Gym Tip: Don’t Run Weird. If you’re going to use the equipment, at least make a halfhearted attempt at not being distractingly awkward. It’s inconsiderate when you are clumsily striding on the treadmill with spastic arms flailing all over place because I can not NOT watch you. Since I become overly consumed your dramatic running actions, I, in turn, loose my footing and fall off the freaking elliptical. Please find some other way to be the in the spotlight you attention seeking whores.

5. World’s Gym Tip: Wipe Your Sweat off the Equipment.Yes, I will admit that this one is fairly gross. However, nothing is stopping your lazy ass from wiping down the bench press bench before you use it and contaminate it with your own disgusting bodily fluids.

A’s Gym Tip: Don’t Sweat. Let’s face it, sweating is not only hard, but it makes us tired and look ugly. No one really cares about exercising these days anyway. Working out has morphed into a social bragging right, and that is why people do the little check-in apps at the gym, Tweet about their intense spinning class, and take cell phone photos of their naked bodies in bathroom mirrors; it is all just a plea for peer acceptance. I, on the other hand, have found a way to beat the system with a little program called Photoshop. Thanks to this fine technological advancement, all fatties have an equal opportunity to look like celebrities without counting calories or BMI ratios. I just show up at the gym and stand around in my retro biker shorts at the juice bar drinking an XL iced mocha caramel chocolate chip latte with extra whip (wheat-grass is just not my thing). None of my Facebook friends have even noticed I’m well over 300 pounds at this point because I am so skilled at Photoshopping myself a sexy six pack toned bod.

[allisonscottactor-blog-blog]

Social Media Overload

This past week, I received yet another friend request from a non-real life friend on Yelp. This gent, Peter L., had the following message accompany his friendship proposal, “I really like your reviews! (I’ve only written 3) I totally agree with you on Motor Village LA! (Obviously they’re a bad dealership! They only have 2 positive comments on their page and they are clearly fake accounts created by the dealership.)" 

How has the world turned into a place where I receive friend requests from people I don’t know on a website that I mainly utilize to find doctors & restaurants with the best happy hour deals? I cannot be bothered with this kind of shit on Yelp because I’m far too bombarded with more important social media outlets that will raise public awareness of my awesomeness...which will in turn skyrocket me to stardom. That's what Hollywood told me anyway. I really don’t care to reminisce about food poisoning experiences from the taco truck downtown. Ok?

However, becoming famous via the internet is a lot harder than anyone could have ever anticipated.

My overwhelming online presence all started back in 2006 when I created my first Facebook account…and learned the addictive power that stalking people can hold over one’s life. I had only dabbled in MySpace previously, so spending each day clicking through pictures of all the hot guys I never talked to because they were too hot was completely liberating. I felt so connected to my peers, beautiful people I wanted to meet but wasn’t cool enough to know, and the world as a whole. My passion for spending hours in front of the computer on Facebook was far more exhilarating than anything I had experienced in the past with AIM, Mavis Beacon, or The Sims. One year and 1000+ so-called-friends later (mostly people I met while drunk at parties and immediately hunted down as soon as I stumbled through the house door), I realized the site wasn’t as fun after a breakup and having to look at my ex boyfriend’s happy status and photo updates with his new girlfriend wife thing, feeling sad when he untagged himself in the photos of us together, and trying really hard to one-up everything he did by taking far too many pictures to document my experiences so they looked extra legitimate. “Can you just take a photo of me in front of Mt. Everest, so it looks like I climbed it? For Facebook. Thanks.” Nevertheless, I deleted my account because I had made making the ultimate Facebook profile a higher priority than doing chemistry homework, which whoever paid for my tuition (me) did not appreciate.

Flash forward to present day, March of 2012. I recreated a Facebook profile when I moved to LA as an actor networking resource….which I utilize it for those purposes some of the time. No need to worry though; I’ve mostly given up stalking and trying to one-up everyone. Sadly, I’m nowhere near fantastic enough to have my own Facebook Fan Page, which is what all other actors really seem to care about in Hollywood. “Wait…you’re telling me you just have a regular account to add friends…LAAAAME! How do you expect the top directors and producers to see you?” I have a Twitter, but have yet to figure out the # and @ system, and I have absolutely no clue how to gain followers without following thousands of uninteresting people who flood my homepage with their less than clever Tweets. I was also told it’s absolutely vital for actors to have a YouTube account, so I got on that one right away! On the flip side, video-posting consistency is not my strong suit. I have the most fabulous ideas in the whole world with...not-the-best execution method (writing genius scripts on sticky notes and putting them in my underwear drawer). I frequently get requests for LinkedIn, the site for professionals, but….am I even a professional? Definitely not. In less depressing news, I have been doing really well with this Tumblr and have been going steady with it for almost a year now! I will forever be in debt to the random Mormon actor who told me to start one to keep everyone updated on my acting endeavors….which I sort of did, but not so much. However, I would love to BranchOut (ironically a name of another networking site I consistently get invites for, but always opt to ignore) and write for more legitimate sites (sorry Tumblr), but that takes thought filtering and proper punctuation (not coded in my genetics). Apparently there are circles on Google+ that I need to fill in too, since Google semi-floods my inbox with reminders about these damn things. I don’t plug my IMDb page nearly as much as my many of my fellow actors do. Maybe someone can explain to me the importance of a Starmeter because I still fail to see it’s tangible value. There is something called Pinterest, which sounds so dumb that I haven’t even ventured to check it out. I downloaded the Instagram app on my iPhone, but it makes me feel weird that anyone can see every photo I take. Holy cow, talk about exploiting oneself on the internet! I may start Instagraming though to improve my photography and photo captioning skills. All of this also makes me question whether or not I need to reinstate my MySpace account....I wonder if they still have my profile saved after a 6 year break. I never had Friendster, but it may not hurt to start if it will raise society’s awareness of me. Oh jeeze, am I forgetting any others? I get so nervous at the thought of leaving one out!!

It is clearly far too much work to keep up! How do all the real people in the public eye manage all of this? The tabloids claim they’re too busy snorting coke and downing bottles of vodka at the clubs to even properly get photographed by the paparazzi....let alone manage all these accounts? I really should hire a social networking guru robot to take over the web for me, but those are too expensive. Human publicists may be able to accomplish the same thing, but they also require dollars to operate. Since neither of these are viable options for me, I am going to begin writing to orphaned children abroad and ask them to create numerous social media accounts to Like and Follow all that I do. Problem solved. 

[allisonscottactor-blog-blog]

And Over on the Left We Have George Clooney's Favorite Whore House

There was an absence of a blog last week because my time was far too occupied playing tour guide for my family, and there was not a moment to spare amongst all the fun to type up a wee life tangent. Since not everyone is able to gain a first hand experience of my marvelous hostessing skills, I will instead treat you all to a play-by-play version of what I indulge visitors with when they come to my Hollyhood.

GET GROPED BY A CELEBRITY! Not only will you be able to see them, but I’ll make sure you get hard core sexual harassment time with some of the big screen’s finest. Martin Scorsese surely got his fill of my hump, my hump, my hump, my hump, my lovely little lumps.

TOUR THE STAR'S HOMES! This one-of-a-kind guided experience will include cramped legs in the back of my Fiat, and it runs a very good chance of simply being me lost in all the windy pathways of the hills and randomly pointing to large houses. “There is where the Jolie-Pitt clan resides, next door is Johnny Depp’s pad, and Harry Potter’s castle is hidden behind that lump of trees.”

FALL FROM THE SKY!!...kind of! Our blood clan decided to embark upon the journey of iSKY, the indoor skydiving adventure at Universal Studios. At first I was hesitant because any random person could walk up and watch me float like a feather, and I wasn’t really in the mood for a paparazzi ambush. My mom told me to stop being a paranoid psycho and just go with the flow…the powerful air flow that would soon wildly distort my cheeks. Good thing a gaggle of stereotypical, fanny-pack sporting, tourists transpired at the perfect moment to snap hundreds of photos and video footage of my pseudo free fall (I'm still curious as to how I was the only person in the group the cared to photograph). I wouldn’t be shocked if photos, like the one below, start popping up all over Asia....Yes, I'm also well aware of my atrocious 90 degree angled limbs...and the fact that I'm not smiling...our bodybuilder instructor Rocky already scolded me for that....but I feel like sharing with the world how ridiculous I looked. 

GET PHAT! ...that is false advertisement. I really should have written "FAT", but the blub does not sell well in Hollywood. We'll just say that it was necessary for me to prep the visitation with a hardcore diet because my family insisted on trying every frozen yogurt and cupcake establishment in the city....and then Mom did her "thing" and made us take a photo with the treats.... Was anyone else forced to do this kind of shit while growing up? My mom always chirps it's just her "thing", and thanks to that "thing", my entire incredibly awkward childhood is very well chronicled. 

Three cheers for an intense sugar high & weight gain! 

DEATH BY SMOG! The city’s smoggy haze is more of a slow and gradual buildup of lung suffocation, so in order to give visitor's lungs a stimulation of what a lifetime Los Anglican will endure, I’ve created an alternate game plan. I’ll leave my key-chain containing mini pepper spray (you never know when a bear may attack) in the care of my preteen brother because he certainly proved himself skilled enough to deploy the device. He “accidentally” set the little pink dildo-looking apparatus off in my sister’s face when we were all trapped inside the tiny elevator at my apartment building. Needless to say, my entire family sounded like we were stricken with the black lung for the remainder of the day, and no one in my building could use the elevator without coming under a very mysterious hysterical coughing spell.

The pepper spray incident was just one of many...beating him with a caveman club is the only dicapline method that seems to work these days. 

SEE WHERE MOVIES ARE MADE! Sadly, the family did not find the loop of my studio to be an exciting endeavor. When we finished the short, but sweet viewing, they all replied “…that’s it?” A few days later I took them to Universal, where they were all VERY satisfied with the hour long adventure maze around their lot. I now know that television studio tours need to include a 3-D dinosaur attack, simulated earthquake and bomb explosion in a subway station, lots of pyrotechnics, and it needs to be hosted by Jimmy Kimmel, or someone of his caliber (Mom says I'm not quite there yet.)

WATCH CIRQUE DU SOLEIL! This is an amazing chance to sit back with an alcoholic beverage in hand, listen to Latin-American influenced jams more suitable for the bedroom, and watch tons of people with the most fine muscular asses in extremely tight body suits bend in ways that are truly mind blowing ;) Yes, this does sound more like a sexy date night, but for whatever reason, I thought it could be something to enjoy with mother and siblings. While I love my family, I probably would have liked Ovo a lot more if I had been: 1. less sober  2. eaten some mind altering drugs 3. had a man's arms to fall into that evening rather than sleeping on the couch and being kept awake all night because apparently everyone in my family snores like a dinosaur. On a more serious note, if asked on a date to another Cirque du Soleil show, I will always say yes...no matter how bizarre the gentleman caller may be. Take note Martin Scorsese.

[allisonscottactor-blog-blog]

You Know You Wanna....Sex All Yo Friends

A male friend of mine Some guy I know (I shall call him Patrick for simplicity's sake) is convinced that males & females can't be just friends. Patrick has a whole list of reasons why it's categorically impossible for the 2 sexes to mix outside of...well, sex and relationships because: the guy has feelings for the girl, sometimes (although rare) the gal will be the one to develop a very un-platonic attraction, things get awkward when one of the two enters into a relationship, it will always be in the back of the guy's mind that the female is bound to get drunk one night and they'll hook up, etc. These are not my words fellas; you were betrayed by one of your own, so don't give me shit on how I'm being far too much of a feminist thinking that every guy wants to bang each female they befriend. I'm actually on you side protesters, since I love to prove people wrong, and I have plenty of male friends that I would never ever ever want to get dirty with (let alone hold their scummy hands) and we are totally fine being just friends. Therefore, I decided to set up a test, of sorts, to prove Patrick's barbaric way of thinking false. 

Like all things in life, I figured Facebook was the best place to start. So I began the tedious process of sorting through all 410 friends to decipher whether or not I would let a late night hook-up secession go down. After weeding out all the females, repeat individuals, corporations, and other things of the nature my results were as follows:

-174 NEVERS

-47 I'm open  to a sexual encounter or few

However, in that process, I learned that I needed to be more specific and further categorize the men I'm open to because not all of them are necessarily available. Here is a further breakdown of my 47 do-ables. 

-Gay: 2

-Possibly Gay: 4

-I don't actually know them (or met only once), but they look hot: 5

-Do not live in LA: 18

-I could only do it wasted: 8

-Maybe?: 5

-YES: 5

In under 15 minutes, I took a list of 410 people and brought it down to a measly 5 of who I definitely consider worth my time in the bedroom. The lesson here is that I need to befriend hotter individuals...or lower my standards. I think this pretty much proves that I am fully capable of being just friends with 174 men, and there are another 42 unavailable dudes that I'm very content with our current friendly status. Therefore, it's not impossible for males & females to be just friends. You're also probably wildly curious as to who Allison's 5 Sexiest Men on Facebook of 2012 are. While I have enough common sense not to post all of their profile pictures or names in this blog, I would like to share photos of 5 hunky celebrities I feel they most closely resemble. Bon Appetite! 

Side Note: You may be curious as to where Patrick falls on this list, but that is a question I cannot answer, since Patrick has yet to accept my Facebook friend request. I also think it is quite relevant to know that if I call, he does not answer but rather responds back with a text messages. Patrick seems to uphold the texts must not be longer 2 words in length per message policy while corresponding with me as well, and we have hung out one time-ish when he needed an extra hand with a project....although in his defense...well, no. As I write all this out, I can see he really has not interest in being my friend. Hmmm....shit. Now would be the appropriate time to own up to the fact that it is difficult for me to mix males with friendship because I currently have no friends of the opposite gender, but doing that would involve me admitting I'm wrong, which is also impossible. I guess I'll need to further investigate this topic by contacting each of the fine gents on my top 5 list and hitting them up with proposals of heavy petting. For now, we'll all just have to agree that I'm a horrible human being, who writes nasty blogs about people I know, so that is the sole reason as to why I have no friends. End of discussion...until I re-open this discussion at a later date.

[allisonscottactor-blog-blog]

The Music of My Heart

A "friend" recently went through a breakup, and for her, the most devastating aspect to the end of their relationship is the fact she must endure hearing their song on the radio all the time. While I want to feel sorry for my Jr. High sister the person I know, I really don't. (She's ridiculously beautiful with 6-pack abs, so she will have no issues finding another lover). 

Why in the hell do couples feel it's a necessity to establish their relationship by claiming a song as a declaration of their love for each other? "Ooooo our song is playing on the 102.7 right now! They play it every hour...we love each other soooo much!" I figure I have the same right as a single woman to claim a song as affirmation of...ummm...the universe's devotion to moi.  Unsurprisingly, a large amount of music can be directly correlated to my life, so I am compiling a Top 5 Songs That Will Make You Think of Allison Scott list. These tunes should always remind everyone of me...and only me.

1. Alejandro- Lady Gaga http://youtu.be/Z-ZUuHXgQ8k During the chorus, Gaga belts out Alli-Alli...jandro. Alli-Alli...jandro One of my many nicknames is Alli, therefore, I'm calling dibs this one. Plus it reminds me of something Ace of Base would have released in the early 90's, and I LOVED them growing up, so this one's definitely mine.

2. Nebraska- Bruce Springsteen http://youtu.be/iir_xAbt-ak Another nickname I have acquired while living in Hollywood is Nebraska....for obvious reasons. It would be stupid for anyone back home to refer to me by our state's name, but it's something that really caught on like wildfire here on the West Coast. Not only did Springsteen have his shit together when he named the entire 1982 album after the Cornhusker state, but he was clearly very well versed in his criminal trivia knowledge since the song is a tribute to famed serial killer Charles Starkweather. You're probably thinking "Gee whiz A. Why would you want to be so morbid and choose to have all of us remember you through a song about a mad murderer?" I think you're all forgetting that I recently played a crazed serial killer in a feature horror film, so the song is really quite fitting to what I do with my life.

3. You and I- Lady Gaga http://youtu.be/X9YMU0WeBwU I'm pretty positive radio stations in each state change the lyrics to reflect their own names, but the originals are written as Nebraska....so take that all other 49 wannabes! This music video also holds a special place in my heart because I was supposed to be in it, but I live in LA, so I sent my mom the shoot information instead, and the casting director chose her to play the scummy homegrown biker bar owner. For security breaching reasons, those scenes didn't make the video cut. However, she got to spend the shooting night with my current all time favorite crush Taylor Kinney (he's the dreamy one practically having sex with the lady), so she will always be my hero for that. You make me proud mom.

4. This is the point during my blog writing where I run low on material and need a good space filler, so I'm going to go ahead and offer up 3 different songs because I don't really love any of them. I figured if I mash them all into one category, they may end up being worthwhile.

Allison- Permanent Me http://youtu.be/N46i5STdNm0 because they portrayed the girl in the music video as being hot.

Alison Gross- Steeleye Span http://youtu.be/sw7cVK8Ve9k because this is one of the weirdest, yet amusing since it's so awful, videos I have seen in a long time.

Allison Road- Gin Blossoms http://youtu.be/_-UBnjzJMQ0 because a co-worker once told me they liked it, and I respect their opinion.

5. Alison- Elvis Costello http://youtu.be/8M87rnvt5B4 My parents named after this song, aaaannnnd I am somewhat forced to add it to the list. It's a really great song though, so I don't totally mind having to answer "yes" when all the wise guys of the world stupidly ask "Hey were you named after that Elvis Costello song?? ALLLLLIIIISON"

Bonus Round. Smack That- Akon http://youtu.be/bKDdT_nyP54 While all these other songs are nice and play a pivotal role in relating to my life, I really would like to include a bonus number. I truly feel this song is the anthem for my life, so if you could all think of me each time you hear it, I would greatly appreciate the gesture.

[allisonscottactor-blog-blog]

Emoji Decoder

If you are a fellow iPhone user and have had the amazing pleasure of being at the receiving end of my texts, you will have undoubtedly noticed that I rather enjoy speaking with pictures over words. For all of you idiot non-iPhone owners out there...I will forgo any mockery because you are already at the top of society’s shit list for not accessorizing with an iPhone. I get it. Really. Cellular telephones are for making calls only.....hahahahaha- yeah right! It's basically a pocket robot that can do anything in the entire world, which is pretty amazeballs (my new word of the day). I very recently- and reluctantly- caved into society's peer pressure on this one, but it was one of the best decisions I have ever made. I've come to realize that I should always give in to peer pressure because it makes me look cool, and it feels great.

Back to my original point (where is Adderall when a girl needs it?). The technical name for these pictures is hieroglyphics…just kidding. It’s the Japanese sensation Emojicon. Sometimes I make it my daily goal to go the entire 24 hours without spelling any words by instead using only these little pictures. Sure it takes me all freaking day long to scroll through the lists to find the proper symbols, and many times there are no icons for the words I need, so I have to compensate for the lack of necessary pics by creating my own language. Here is a helpful guide to decoding some of my messages:

ME. I’m an actress and that is my little red Fiat. Some people (Aubree R.) are convinced I chose my car based solely on the fact I would be able to match the Emoji. While this is an interesting concept, it’s not fully accurate…although that same sort of thought process is how I base a majority of my decisions, so in her defense, it is a fair accusation. “Hmmmm….if I buy the red clown car I'll always be able to use the red Emoji car rather than having to type out the letters m-y-c-a-r….I’m willing to drop $20K for that factor alone!”

Pizza. Out of all 31 (yes, I actually counted) food/beverage items the application contains, no pizza is to be found (way to be about 1000 years behind on that concept Asia). However, they so kindly included whatever this disgusting brown thing is, so it has been unanimously decided that this icky brown lump will forever represent pizza. That is until Emjoi gets their shit together anyway and hires an artist to draw up a pepperoni slice. The fact taco is also missing from the line up tells me the Japanese are very misguided on the American way of life.

Sex. Let’s face it, I could be a lot more graphic with this one, so you should all be happy I settled for the mild, yet universal, finger in the hole movement.

Vagina. Not that this is something I frequently reference in my text lingo repertoire, but it is still important to know in order to avoid a potentially awkward explanation. Using the sex symbol + kitty head feels too gimmicky to me, so this will have to suffice. The Japanese probably use this red box to represent wold peace or some other thing of greatness.

Aubree. My roommate Aubree insists on being this symbol because the highly coveted princess is by far the best looking of the whole lot. Never mind the fact I’m blonde and related to royalty, Aub’s princess personality trumps me for this right….I’m really jealous about the whole thing too.

Cocaine. The cloud by itself is also suitable for coke, but I find the more PPT (pictures per text) I’m able to use, the more intelligent I appear. Therefore, I decided to take my drug talk one step further by utilizing the underused slang terminology of 'riding the white horse' whenever I need to talk about cocaine. Which brings me to…

Zookie Monster. The word zookie is a modified adjective format of the adjective/verb colloquialism zooted. Zookie can be any of the following: super crazy, super silly, super high, or super drunk. Examples: 1. Zookie is very fun to say while zooted. 2. Zookie Monster is a hard core zooted being.

Phat A$$ Pee Wee. You will meet my pudgy hoodlum brotha from anotha motha in next week's YouTube video. Here’s some holiday shit I threw together while procrastinating that clip (http://youtu.be/rSRaWdqZ0SM).

Meth Nails. I am a common offender of this fashion mishap. It occurs when nail polish is noticeably chipped, polish is completely missing from some fingers, hangnails and untamed cuticles are presumably present making the hands transformed into one of those with a strong drug addiction. Most likely meth.

Burgers & Boners. This story still remains one of the best nights I have experienced while living in LA. I intend on covering the full story in my future book or perhaps I will indulge in a 4 part mini series edition blog. Regardless, the important thing for you to know is this: A male actually text an unnamed female friend and me a message that contained the line: No burgers & boners for you! Therefore, burgers & boners is my latest favorite catch phrase, and I use it at every plausible opportunity- even if it doesn’t fit the subject matter (pretty much all conversations).

[allisonscottactor-blog-blog]

What is a Producer?

Every week after I post a blog, I immediately get a call from my grandma, who still greatly disapproves of my choice to swap out my pursuit of a career in the medical field for one in the entertainment industry (Newest Twitter about my flourishing career: https://twitter.com/#!/AllisonScottLA).

Grandma: *sigh* I worry about you.

Me: The blog is supposed to be more amusing than true...probably. I’m really ok!

Grandma: *sigh* Do you have a real job yet?

Me: Ummmm….wellllll….I’m producing some stuff, so that’s cool and-

Grandma: Why do they hireyou when you’re broke. Aren’t producers supposed to be the ones who give money for the shows?

Me: You’ve already established that I’m poor, so that’s clearly not the case. I actually get paid to do the job...and I'm pretty good at it?

Grandma: (long awkward pause) Fine. When are you moving back home?

The worst part is that whenever I try to re-tell this story, very few find it amusing. At first I thought it was because the people I was speaking to didn't realize my grandma is 4'8, with a pinkish orange afro, has the voice of a chain smoker and sports glasses with lenses the size of a personal pan pizza. It turns out this story is a failure because most people have no freaking idea what a producer's workload consists of! While there are numerous job forms with the word “producer” thrown into the title, I’ll just fill you all in on what occupies my time while I’m producing a project.

“Take Meetings”- There is rarely a set agenda for these so called “meetings” that go down at Starbucks 99% of the time. Sure I could get discouraged by the fact that nothing of real importance is ever accomplished at these get-togethers, but the free coffee perk truly prevents me from harboring any feelings of dissatisfaction from my embarrassingly low productivity scores. “Taking meetings” is quite the popular trend in Hollywood because not only do I hear people brag and drone on and on about the fact that they are “taking a meeting” with so-and-so (a highly “important” industry contact that I have never heard of), but every single table at Starbucks is jam packed with other producers, just like myself, procrastinating doing any real work because taking this "meeting” makes it sound like something is actually getting done. This is never the case.  My excuse is that I am usually too preoccupied with eavesdropping on the other producer’s conversations to be actively involved with my own “meeting”.

Legal Contracts- I’ve never been to law school, but I do understand it’s super important to have my ass, as well as the entire production’s rear end, covered with thorough contracts composed in a highly intelligent manner. My solution to being poorly educated? I just put in a Google search for whatever type of contract I am in need of and copy and paste all of my favorite lines into an 8 page document of legal jargon nonsense. No one really reads them anyway. As for how well these documents will hold up in court? I always have the 2nd line state: You may not sue me.

Haggle- I absolutely abhor any type of bargaining, selling, trying to steal a deal, and all other things of that nature. I don’t have enough time or energy to try and secure a dollar saving deal, so my method for hiring people is as follows: “This is how much money I have. This is exactly what I need. If you don’t like that, fine. I’ll find someone else. Don’t tell me I’m a cheap hard-ass because of that number. My budget is the cheap slave driver. If I had millions of dollars, I sure as shit wouldn’t be talking to you. I wish you the best of luck in life though. Let me know if you’d like a contract.”

Too Many Mundane Miscellaneous Tasks- The best method I’ve created to deal with these sorts of issues is to drop hints secretly convincing the person who is asking me to accomplish the task that I really can’t be trusted with such an "important" matter. “Oh I don’t know if I’m the best one to find a shooting location, since I don’t have as of a firm grasp on the "artistic imagery" of the overall subject matter as you do….hmmmm, but I guess it’s worth a shot even if I screw the whole thing--- oh you’ll take care of it? Great!”

Deal with Idiots- Writers, directors, creators, actors, crafty mates (food suppliers), other forms of producers, and pretty much anyone present on set will be the pain of my existence at some point in time. My coping mechanism for dealing with the lovely individuals that help make every film possible is to label them all unitelligent idiots whenever they annoy me. I would NEVER let any of them on to this little secret though (three cheers for none of them being likely candidates to read this blog!) I usually find the biggest dummies to be the ones who actually hired ME on board to produce their project….I mean seriously: I really have no freaking idea what I’m doing….no clue….ever.

**The photo below is me live in action producing a comedy short....of course I'm standing in the corner like a freaking creeper while everyone else is hard at work. 

[allisonscottactor-blog-blog]

It's never enough to just be yourself....get over it!

It’s that time of year again where we all acknowledge the fact we are plagued with numerous personality and physical flaws….until the infamous New Years Resolutions swoop in and save us from our character deficits. Most people (I hope you are not included in this grouping…but chances are that you will be) exhibit about zero creativity when cultivating these life changing lists: 1. Lose 10 pounds 2. Stop Smoking 3. Exercise 5 days a week 4.Volunteer More 5. Spend more time with friends and family 6. Don’t drink every night 7. Eat Healthy 8. Read more books 9. Less than 1 hour of TV and Facebook a day 10. Get Married

Don’t be too ashamed if your 2012 resolution(s) popped up on this list because most of us have fallen victim to these traps at some point in our lives. I, on the other hand, like to exhibit creativity and uniqueness when I do all things (It’s the dragon in me, which 2012 is the year of the dragon, so I will be totally awesome this year!), and I had to think really long and hard about what I wanted to resolve in my life since I am pretty much perfect. During the first week of December (because I’m an overachiever and like to have things done well before the due date), I decided upon improving my voice since I'm not such a fantastic singer...and I have always thought highly of Adele. Therefore my New Years Resolution WAS: Be Adele.

You’re probably confused right now as to why this is a former resolution since it’s still the first week of January….Did she really give up on that already? Woah she must be a super terrible singer!

The following series of events made me realize that there is another department in my life which requires far more work than my screechy, off key, monotone vocals: My Social Life. 1. I was signing and sending a slew of holiday cards and made the realization that EVERY SINGLE…not just a few, but each and every Christmas card I purchased this year had a picture of a little tiny furry kitten dressed up as Santa, a snowman, a present, a menorah, or Rudolph. I don’t really even like cats so I have absolutely no clue what my thought process was behind this, but it is extremely disturbing…and I know the next step in life is to become a crazy feline obsessed woman. 2. The only action I got on New Years Eve was a 2 year old boy with a mullet plunging head first down my shirt straight into my boobs and drooling all over the place. 3. One of my co-workers asked if he could set me up on some dates with a few of his friends. I told him there is no way I would ever let a blind date go down on my watch, and then he yelled at me: “Fine! But don’t you ever get tired and lonely from being alone all the time….crazy cat lady!” I went in the bathroom and cried for 3 hours….not really, but I did update my newNew Years Resolution to this: Be sociable and go out more. Sure I love being a homebody, and nothing repulses me more than having to shower, brush my hair, and wear nice clothes to go out, but there are some sacrifices that must be made in life. One thing I am thrilled about is the fact that I will no longer need to take stinky and notoriously late LA public transpo to travel to and fro my social outings because I am the proud owner of a new car! You can check out my new ride here: http://youtu.be/YrU_izi8Xhg

I hope you all have an amazing and prosperous 2012, and I would love for you to continue reading my blog….especially now that I will be writing about my new and improved Hollywood socialite life…yikes!

[allisonscottactor-blog-blog]

Do Not Attempt at Home

I’ve spent far too long contemplating the subject matter of this post since I’ve got such fantastic things going on in my life right now, and I simply can't decide which topic would bring the most joy into your lives. I’m having a brand new baby delivered to me as I type- so that’s definitely exciting, I debuted my first video blog http://youtu.be/EZo9OS-yYo8 (Be sure to subscribe and give it a thumbs up!), I somehow got tricked into going on a date with a guy *gasp*- it was one of the most clever methods I’ve come across because 99% of the time I uphold a strict “no date” policy, outrageous holiday spirits and parties commanded my schedule last week- and I feel they too could be blog worthy. However, I would NEVER want to divulge too much personal information on internet, so I’ve instead compiled a list of things I have said, but were probably the wrong thing to say, to guys I was interested in. Knowing my romantic history, none of these should be a real shocker. I would like it to be known though, that I really did say all of them with the intention of  learning the honest answer….most of the answers came out to be “I don’t want to talk to you anymore.” Please learn from my past and don’t make the mistake of saying these things to the studly gents in your life.

When do you think you’ll go bald? I guess I don’t fully grasp why guys are so paranoid about hair loss. In fact, I may shave my head just to see if life is really that difficult with a furless do.

Why did you not take up that potential sugar daddy on his bj offer? That’s a lot of money and you only have to lay there!....wait...YOU are straight??  I always tell myself that every remotely attractive male I meet is a homo, so I don’t freeze up and get all awkward around them.  

                         *Can’t have ‘em A- they like dudes.

                         *Oh ok! I guess I’ll just go strike up a conversation to show them my wit and charm. A girl can always use more bffs!

I’m allergic to birth control. I can’t help the fact that I’ve got ridiculous odds stacked against my genetic pool when it comes to unconventional medical conditions. This is just one that should not be brought up within the first 5 minutes of meeting someone.

When you were 9 did you ever see a baby and think: WOW I’m gonna bang that baby some day?....cause that’s what happened. Gotta love age gaps.

 Pretty positive I’m way stronger than you. I guess like the hair issue, guys don’t particularly enjoy being one upped in this department either. In fact, I may cut off my limbs just to see if life is really that difficult as a weakling torso.

[allisonscottactor-blog-blog]

Allisoni Scocktt's A Series of Unfortunate Events

I'm not going to make any lame excuses as to why I didn't publish a blog last week (even when I already had one written). The truth of the matter is this: I was a wee bit over worked and too stressed to focus on anything in life other than getting through the week without tripping in front of a moving bus, making sure my clothes weren't inside out or backwards, and I had to try really really hard not to pull out handfuls of hair out each and every time I got another annoying call with more responsibility and work. (Some really good things also happened, but I fully enjoy bitching when I get the opportunity....and opportunity is definitely a-knockin'!) If I wrote a blog full of the awful, but entertaining, stories from last week, it would end up being too long winded for the average Tumblr post. Therefore, I saved all of those events for my future book entitled 'No Job, No Love, No Transpo: My First Year in LA', so you can get all those juicy details at your local Barnes & Noble in 2012. (FYI: I really have no plans for publishing a book in the near future, but if I ever do get around to it, this particular chapter will be titled: Dead Mice by the Toilet and the M&M Covered Floor).

Since all of my good stories are going to my more-likely-than-not-nonexistent memoir, I figured I would dish out some words of wisdom from my recently acquired super old man boss,Floyd, at the studio. Each morning he calls me into his office so I can give him an update about what is happening on the stages, and he reciprocates this kind gesture by telling me stories about how the mafia ran businesses back in the 1970s. There was also that one time where I got to hear great words of wisdom about a lad named "Justin Beaver" and how he got famous by doing "the internets".

While I'm really enjoying the new workplace, Floyd and I had gotten into a minor tiff on Wednesday night, so I had a whole speech prepared the next day where I was going to tell him off and quit. Right when I walked into the office Thursday morning:

Floyd: Get in here! We need to have a talk!

Me: We absolutely do!

Floyd: Now what do you think about this?

He turns his gigantic computer screen (the kind blinding old people need) so I can also see it. He then plays a YouTube video of a little fishing boat full of weaponry that a Russian vessel had hunted down. The video ends with the Russians locking the boat's occupants down below and blowing the whole thing up.

Floyd: What is the lesson here?

Me: ....don't be a pirate....

Floyd (appalled by my answer): No! Russians. Don't. Fuck. Around....Now go do good work.

I really wasn't sure what to make of that morning's motivational speech since no one in our office (or any of the clients for that matter) are Russian. However, I wrote each contract and drew up every estimate with those words in mind: Russians don't fuck around, Russians don't fuck around, Russians don't fuck around....I even started answering the phone in a sultry voice as Olga the sexertary from Moscow who doesn't fuck around. Whatever I was doing must have worked because an hour later I was called into Floyd's office and got a raise. Considering the fact I had worked at the studio a whopping 10 days, I truly think Floyd may be under the impression that I am Russian....and Russians don't fuck around.