Dear Hollywood Casting Directors,
If you’re reading this now, you got one of the flyers I dropped from the roof of the Popeye’s on Hollywood Boulevard today.
Clever marketing aside, I think my work speaks for itself. Interested parties should contact my commercial agent immediately, before I’m all booked up for the fall season.
I will also be entertaining offers from theatrical agents, but if you’re not with one of the big three or (at the least) an up and coming boutique agency, please don’t bother. I’m not going to waste my time with your mom & pop bullshit dream factory. In fact, fuck you and get the hell off my goddam webpage. You’re human garbage. A leach on society. You do nothing good for this world and would be better off dead. Seriously, do us all a favor.
I mean, look at that fucking range of emotions. I visit places in those few seconds that they couldn’t aspire to in most of the crap they make these days. I’m not acting, I’m taking you on a motherfucking journey to a magical world you could only fantasize about. And that’s on your best day.
Look, enough. Just fucking call me. Make your case why you think you should be the one I let make me rich. It’s free money. You’re hardly even earning it. I’m doing all the work. You sit on your ass while I blow peoples’ minds and you take ten percent. For nothing.
Seriously, stop reading this and call me right now before someone else does and starts taking your free money you’ll be stealing from me.