Saturday, March 7, 2009

James Spader's cock and balls !!!

Well not really, it's actually more of a bare ass.

Why am I posting this raw nakedness of Mr "Pretty in Pink?" Well, I have been a little lazy of late, just posting various links, or embedding Youtube videos for your viewing pleasure, so I thought I would ramble about a little experience I had back in the summer of 95.

I was working for an animation/film company in Ireland as a character designer, storyboard artist for an animated series called 'The Sign of the Fish' about some bloke called Jesus and his exploits as he roamed around touching people and making them all "tingly" and strangely happy, well, that was until he stole some money from a temple, ran off to a beach in Dorset, built a huge sand castle and made hamster babies by inseminating Osyter shells with his do-da! Yeah, you know that's all made up, but c'mon I bet you'd rather pay to see that, than some depressing stone rolling, pontificating, cross-hanging do-gooder who never once, not once; got with a lady! Yeah? You know I'm right! One word "Ken-Russell" Okay, it's actually two words but I joined them together for extra impact.

Anyway, I was asked to fill in and do some duties on a live action feature called 'Driftwood' starring David Spade's brother "James" and some french actress who I cannot quite recall the name of...I could go to IMDB, but I just can't be bothered; and anyway this is about Spader's bare ass, not hers!


JAMES SPADER'S NAKED ASS.

So I read the script, which I found to be complete and utter ASS! It was in actuality a complete rip -off of the movie "Misery" without any of the stuff that actually made Misery worth watching! Instead it was just a shell of a shell of an even more fragile shell that if you even remotely touched it - it would just crack and turn to dust, blowing away in the wind- and believe me, it would not have to be even "wind", it could in fact just be a slight breeze and still this shit would disappear like that Sherbert stuff I use to eat as a kid: actually, didn't really eat it- it was more the art of just pouring that asbestos type shit on your tongue and letting it dissolve. Or am I mistaking Sherbert for that "crackling stuff" that once you put it on your tongue it would all fizz up and pop and shit, like a mini fireworks going off in your mouth. God I loved that stuff!

So...

I arrived at the hotel where I was to meet the director and after some dinner we retired to his bedroom...

Why am I telling you this...oh yeah, I'm blogging drunk-

The Director was actually a decent guy, a little pretentious maybe, with somewhat of a Woody Allen fixation- but not as bad as some of the arrogant,condescending,bottom-feeding film-types I had met previously.

Now this was a small atypical hotel room: one bed, with a little corridor that led to the bathroom. For the most part I sat on the bed with my sketch book in hand as he described the type of shots he wanted to convey to both his crew and the actors. You see, what I was being asked to board were the SEX SCENES of the movie! Which I'm sure sounds like it could've been fun, but I can assure you it most certainly was not!

The director sprawled himself on the bed and acted out what he wanted to be boarded! Yes indeed, I had to sit and watch as he quite literally, stroked and fondled himself in a very suggestive manner! You see, the guy came from an art-house background and wanted the sex scenes to emote an dream-like eroticism through metaphor and symbolism with a balletic sensibility that would lead the viewer into a state of somnambulistic hypnotic reverence.

---

But of course the scenes ended up looking contrived, unrealistic and more stifled and bland than a Paris Hilton sex tape. One of the scenes in particular involved Spader draping a transparent bed-sheet over the actress and then fondling and kissing her through the material.

See below:


CRAZY FRENCH TART WHOSE ASS IS ALSO NAKED.

We worked our way through the scenes quite quickly and throughout this time he would pop off to the bathroom on a regular basis, leaving the door slightly ajar so he could still communicate his "vision!" to me. I was starting to speculate that possibly the man had some toiletry problems, either that or he was getting a little over-excited in describing his erotic imaginings and well you know...! The strange thing was that I would never hear any signs or indication of urination; he seemed in fact to be just going to the bathroom and standing there.

MAN JUST STANDS IN BATHROOM!

When I finally had to use the bathroom, I will not deny I was slightly nervous as to what I may find in that white chamber of solitude! Perhaps he was feeding a pet snake or some other type of animal, possibly a mute legless cat with a incontinence problem, a shrine perhaps to Terry Wogan or some other religious-like figure that was giving him guidance, maybe even a "roofied" Spader bent over the side of the tub!!>>!!

What I did find to my utter amazement was...

Hair.

Little snip-its of hair, scattered around the white floor of the bathroom making it resemble a miniature Barber shop.

THE MAN HAD BEEN GOING TO THE BATHROOM AND CUTTING HIS HAIR!

Now this was a guy with an average amount of hair,I mean it wasn't like he had the equivalent of a sheepdog sat atop his head. In fact, the hair strewn across the floor was actually equivalent to the amount of hair that was on his head when I had first encountered him! So unless he was plucking his nose hairs or shaving his back,I still have no idea where all that hair came from.

LUBBERT STILL HAS NO IDEA WHERE ALL THAT HAIR CAME FROM!


WRONG MOVIE!

It was obvious the man was trying to create a rather "quirky" persona for himself, something that would make him seem a little more eccentric, different and somewhat interesting!

HE FAILED!

Never got to meet Spader or any of the other actors for that matter, but I did get to meet the movie's cinematographer, Billy Williams.

So I guess it was worth it for that alone.



Well, kinda...

8 comments:

Fluff said...

You didn't miss much. I once met James Spader (pre Stargate fame) at the National theatre, I think it was. Anyway...all I can remember about the incident was that he had really bad halitosis....seemed only capable of grunting...& was really quite short.

That crackling stuff was called Space Dust.

Scaramanga said...

Fluff, I thought he meant dib dabs?

HAIR!! was it short and curly? am I reading the subtext correctly?

Charles

Scaramanga said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Ugly Angie said...

this story is very...involved...wow...and I think you are talking about Pop Rocks!

Scaramanga said...

Space dust...Pop rocks....

All we can say for sure is that 80's sweets had much more imagination/thought poured into them not to mention they tasted better due to how unhealthy they were.....

There could be a whole new post about what your favourite 80's sweet was.

OR does anyone remember those little sticky hands made out of some kind of gelatine? they were AWESOME....but I think they were more of a european thing???

Charles

Lubbert Das said...

Yeah Angie, "Involved" is a good choice of words for describing that last post. Just to clarify, do you mean involved as in "complex and interesting" or "babbling nonsense?"

I just found out that Scaramanga is Scottish- hence why he gets all my obscure references.

Yeah I'm not sure, I think Fluff could be right with 'Space Dust' but 'Pop Rocks' sounds pretty familiar too...

I loved the old 'Curly Wurlys' myself-

Scaramanga said...

CURLY WURLYS HAHAHA.

Sweet. Although the chocolate was so brittle. I always found them weird.

Whispas were better. Went back to the old GB a month ago and found they had re released them! SWEEEET.

Shhhhhh. don't tell anyone I am from there, it's not true it's all a vicious rumour. :)

Charles

Mattson Tomlin said...

Love me some Spader.