Might As Well Face It (I'm Addicted to Actresses)

The correct term, I'm told by female thespians, is actor, in a non-discriminatory way. As if this industry isn't dominated by strange whore-mongering men. Like most I spose. But I was raised on actresses so actresses I'll call em. They are a completely different species to the male actor (be he your garden variety extrovert or weird, quiet unworking type) because the entertainment world has only a couple of replaceable roles for chicks who 'wanna get into acting.' Blonde or Evil Stepmother. So actresses have to be savvy and wily and cool and entertaining and occasionally, let's not beat around the bush, drop dead gorgeous. Throw in the normal artistic neurosis, some comic potential, and the yoga, and the steely way they learn to sit in waiting rooms full of blondes mauling each other's bodies with their eyes. Us actors can look like Danny Devito and still have a shot at the odd audition. We prefer our actresses, of course, to age Cate on Nic like. I like the Cate kind personally.

I like all that stuff. Heaps.

And of course I will spare you the personal pain and sweaty palms, especially as any fool could tell you that when professional liars start exchanging body fluids they are destined for the odd deception. But actresses and actors may be the only type that can possibly understand each other. The strange show-off sold as expression. The sight-gags passed off as satire. Stupid hours for no money. All that shit. And I've always been a sucker for good acting. Like I enjoy watching it. Just when you've stopped obsessing over the incredible girl you saw in that movie last year she's standing next to you at the Budgie Jar asking about your ex. And try staying away from your ex after having just watched her rip Lady Macbeth to shreds under lights in a corset. It's near impossible. Us professional liars should probably shut up and fall quietly (and realistically) on our own safety-tipped swords.

Is lying sexy? Or is sex one of many lies. Maybe that just sounds good.