Monday, November 14, 2016


No, I don't mean Madonna, although I've heard all the people with the vouchers for the free fellatio are going to be stiffed.

I mean the movie producers, yes those fiendishly competitive denizens who make the reels of Hollywood turn. Those whores. And what do those craven whores covet above all else? What would they consider quitting their cocaine habit for? Bragging rights! Bragging rights are pure oxygen in Hollywood. It's how you get in front of the line at all the best restaurants and whisked to the best table. It's who shows up at your kid's birthday bash. It's who takes your call. And it is more precious than Liz's diamond from Richard, more sought after than a liver donor for an over the hill director, more beloved than a movie with fifteen sequels, and more honored than a union lunch break.

And how do you get a taste of that sweetest of all caviar, bragging rights? Will Stars do it? Yes, and pay them more than they are worth just to show off. High brow artsy? Sure, and hope that no one shows up at the theater so you can prove you really were too smart for America. Talent? Naw, nobody really cares about talent, because no one in Hollywood will admit anyone else has more talent than they do. Special effects epic blowout? Works, sometimes. Nudity? Hey, we've already done the full frontal dongs of the most popular male stars, so that's over.

So what's the best, most reliable way to get those bragging rights which will make all in Tinsel town bow and scrape? It's what no movie producer will ever admit, though it is literally the ONLY thing that matters. Whisper, shhhh, don't let the public know because then they'd think they own us. It's box office. BOX OFFICE. Getting bodies in those theater seats. Lines around the block for your blockbuster. Wow, that is a lung full of air to those producers drowning in debt.

Now, having done 10 years hard time in Hollywood, I have picked up on a few of the more obvious mores of that town. Consequently, I know for sure that, though they are still loudly rattling their sabers in loyal support of their beloved candidate Hillary, a new obsession has seized their greedy minds. When was the last time, oh, say, more than 200 people lined up at one am, on an hour's notice, to see ANYTHING from Hollywood? Probably Harry Potter. Yeah. And maybe a couple of hundred kids got to stay up late for the opening.

So they've noticed that there's this guy running around the country, a guy they all ostensibly loathe, hate and revile, and this despicable fella gives an hour's notice in a modestly sized town, and FRIGGIN 31, 000 people show up, just like magic. WHAT THE HELL HAS THIS GUY GOT THAT WE HAVEN'T? HOW THE HELL DOES HE DO THAT? AND HOW THE HELL CAN WE GET SOME?

As I mentioned before, it's a competitive town, so they'll all continue hysterically rattling those sabers for Hillary, but, in carefully guarded secret and very posh hideaways, without a word to any of their best friends or worst enemies, every producer in Hollywood will spend EVERY SINGLE GODDAMN WAKING MOMENT (and when you're on coke those waking moments can last for a week) frantically wracking their brains for a way to tap into that BIG FAT audience, because they know, just as God made little green apples, that the first producer to strike BOX OFFICE gold in the new Trump vein will rule HOLLYWOOD and have BRAGGING RIGHTS as big as KING KONG'S NUTS.

So I say, thank god for the whores of Hollywood. We may finally get some movies worth watching.

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