Some of you more astute readers (no, not you, moron) may have noticed a steep decline in my complaining about my job recently. Well that’s because that job stopped being my job. Hooray! Sadly, since none of you idiot readers (definitely you) are insane billionaires willing to fund the expansion of the BroCast Empire, I don’t get paid to delight you with my whimsy. I do get paid to do various freelance production work/prostitution/produce prostitutes. And sometimes, I even do it for the infamous Tommy Moon, a lunatic of titanic proportions.

He’s also my dad. Allegedly.

This, is the story of such a day.

6:49 – Arrive at the location in Brooklyn. Williamsburg. The center of all that I loathe. God help me. Hopefully he will, we’re filming at a church.

7:00 – The outside of this church looks really crappy. God will probably not help me. Fucking hipsters.

7:06 – Still waiting outside. Well, inside the PA truck where it’s actually warm. Why is it still so dag-burned cold in late April? Whaddup wit dat, science?

7:21 – Some dude in a bathrobe finally came out at opened the gate to the parking lot so we could pull the truck in and get ready to unload. He might have been the priest. He also might have just been some dude in a bathrobe.

Or maybe it was a Jedi church.

8:00 – Shoving a sausage, egg, and cheese sandwich into my craw as fast as possible while standing. Everything unloaded from the truck. Slightly sweaty. Slightly.

8:08 – Tommy Moon has arrived. The trembling masses bow at his feet. Luckily I have to leave with the truck for a while.

8:41 – Rattling down some rickety road in Brooklyn in a shitty truck with a chain-smoking, albeit affable, driver. Still beats the shit out working in an office.

Worse than lung cancer and spinal injuries.

9:10 – The mook at the warehouse seemed absolutely baffled that we’re here to pick up some tables. Just overwhelmed by the whole thing. But in a real angry asshole kind of way. Not my fault you have a shitty job, you gibrone. Luckily he was quickly followed by the helpful guy with the dozen earrings from yesterday who actually knew what the fuck was going on. Paperwork on the rental hasn’t come through yet, apparently. More sitting in the truck for us, which is just dandy as far as I care.

10:01 – Gah! A phone call from the AD has jolted the driver and I from our naps in the cab of the truck. Just checking in on us. Still waiting on this warehouse to unfuck their computers and get us these three measly tables.

10:27 – Success at last! We’re back on the road, the proud renters of three more tables and 25 more chairs. All of which we will have to carry downstairs back at the church…Ah fuck.

11:15 – Everything unloaded, quick trip to the super creepy bathroom at the church. Good times.

This is seriously the first thing you see when you walk into the mens’ room. And the last thing you ever see if you have sinned.

11:25 – Watching some filming. My dad is watching the monitor being loud, dancing periodically, and taking credit for other people’s ideas/work. Standard stuff.

11:57 – Chilling.

12:30 – Off with the AD to pick up lunch at Williamsburger. Williamsburg + burger. Williamsburger. Get it? GET IT? GET IT!?!?!?!?AAAAHHHHHH!

12:39 – Waiting on the food. I want to murder every single patron of this restaurant. It’s like an Urban Outfitters took a shit in here.

12:59 – Chow time. My dad is arguing about whether or not Aerosmith sucks. They do. The burgers are quite tasty, but still. Williamsburger? Fuck that.

And fuck this.

2:08 – All the tables and chairs are packed in the truck again, which is great because those fuckers were heavy. I have also noticed that my watch is broken. The minute hand dangles and sways like a flaccid wiener, ashamed as it’s shorter brother stands firm and erect, pointed directly at twelve. The second-hand still works, though.

2:23 – I speak with Lee Powers on the phone about working a job with him Monday. He insults my intelligence several times and calls me “a bitch.” It’s good to have friends. Perhaps I shall poison him.

Maybe at his wedding.

3:36 – I think all of the talent is finally here. There are way more kids than I thought there would be. I was told there would be around eight. But there is like a full gross of little wankers on the set. A murder of little wankers, I believe the term is.

4:11 – Phone dying. What a world, what a world!

7:43 – My phone died. I took another nap. Drank a lot of diet soda. Ate some cashews. Lifted more heavy things back into the truck. Stared sadly at my phone. Lifted more heavy things. Bullshitted with my old man. Called him an “old fruit bat” at one point. Talked about large breasts with the truck driver. More lifting. And that was a wrap, as they say. Now I’m home and need to take a hot poop and a big shower. Or perhaps the other way around. G’night, folks!

Good working with you, papa!