[come on stage in bathrobe and slippers and drinking a beer]
Good evening Moonwork! Do you like my outfit? I call this look "Forever September 12th". It's an easy look to pull off. All you need is a bathrobe, slippers, and beer number nine. I am dressed this way, and I shall remain dressed this way, forever more. Because I have given up. At life.
[drink entire beer, place empty on stool, then pull a fresh beer from pocket]
I hereby say "uncle" to the powers that be, whether it's Jesus or Allah or Zeus or Mother Nature or Gamera, that giant spinning fire-spewing Japanese turtle monster. I don't know who's in charge, do you? I don't. But whoever or whatever it is, I have a letter of resignation for them.
Now, I'm not saying I want to die. I'm not giving up ON life, I'm just giving up AT life. I want to remain alive. But I'm just not going to try AT it anymore. And here’s why:
I am going to be a guy in a robe standing around drinking a beer from now on - because my whole life I've had this feeling inside of me that only standing around wearing a robe and drinking a beer can quell. A persistent, endless, bottomless feeling. And that feeling is composed of two equal parts. Some might call it anxiety mixed with depression but that is like calling a Toblerone just a chocolate bar. A Toblerone is much more intense and complicated than a chocolate bar, and the feeling that has always been inside of me is far more intense and complicated than anxiety mixed with depression. It’s equal parts “Oh Fuck!” and “What the fuck???” inside of me.
The best way to describe the “Oh Fuck!!!” feeling is to set up a little imaginary scenario. For the longest time I couldn't describe the feeling, but now I know. The “Oh Fuck!” feeling is like I've become a huge rockstar. Andres du Bouchet, ROCK STAR. Right? And one day I'm sitting in my suite at the Beverly Wilshire hotel, you know, I'm there in L.A. for a screentest or whatever, to audition for a film or something, maybe even to audition to play myself in my life story, right? 'Insatiable', The Andres du Bouchet story. Whatever. And I'm just waking up at like three in the afternoon, and I can't use the bathroom yet because my ex-wife is in there arguing with her wife about the threesome we just had the night before and how she thought my ex was paying a little too much attention to Mr. Microphone down there, you know what I mean aw yeah so I'm sitting there waiting for the bathroom and I turn on the tv, and it's a special breaking news story about some kid in Wisconsin who brought a shotgun and a bunch of grenades to school with him and massacred like 20 students before being gunned down by cops and the news anchor says "The perpetrator was wearing a concert T-shirt. And like, there's one piece of video of the kid that was captured by a news crew right before he blew himself up and it looks sort of familiar and I’m saying “no no no no no” the kid turns with the grenade in his hand just before the cops shoot him and it's just really clear across his chest - "Andres du Bouchet – ‘Insatiable’ Tour 2007". And I get up from the bed and yell “Oh FUCK!” just as my ex-wife’s wife’s bra falls out of my butt. That's the “Oh FUCK!” feeling.
Now, the “What the fuck???” feeling is much simpler to describe and is perfectly summed up by this story. The other day I was in a public restroom, I went to the urinal to take a leak, and someone burst OUT of one of the stalls behind me and ran…to another urinal. And he proceeded to take a leak too. He burst out of the stall, to go to the urinal. That feeling haunts me to this day, and after that incident I realized that I’ve always had that feeling in me, and it was just waiting for a moment to give it shape. “What the…what the fuck?” He was already next to a toilet. Why…run out? Hmm.
Now I’ve been carrying those dual feelings inside me forever, so why decide NOW to give up at life? The straw that broke the camel’s back was an audio book I’ve been listening to on my iPod: it's called "The Measure of a Man" a spiritual autobiography. By Sidney Poitier.
It was one of the Oprah Book Club selections.
And not only is it by Sidney Poitier, it is read by Sidney Poitier, so it's like a fucking Oscar-worthy performance echoing in my brain as I walk along. And damn it is inspiring. It's too inspiring. It's so inspirationally inspiring that it made me want to give up. Because basically the refrain of the book is (Sidney's voice) “Looking back, have I measured up to the ideals instilled in me by the trails and tribulations of my youth?” And always, the answer is yes, yes, I have continually measured up and then some, "Yet again I failed at not being awesome". This guy had a solid, unbreakable integrity to him – he wasn’t constantly feeling “Oh fuck and what the fuck”, he was feeling “Fuck yes.” And I never had that in me. And as I listened to this audio book I started hearing his voice even when I was reading other things:
"Dear Penthouse magazine, I never thought something like this could happen to me, but it is my privelege and honor to relate to you the following tale of fucking, sucking, and triumph over racism." Get out of my head Sidney!
I would hear his voice on the GPS while driving a rental car "Remember, the choices that you make here and now will have a profound effect on where this road takes you. In twenty, or even fifty years, will you be able to look back on this moment and say to yourself ‘yes, I am proud of the person I have become?’ If so, then MAKE THE NEXT LEFT!"
I would even hear his voice when buying soda from a vending machine - "They call me Mr. Pibb!"
And finally, just in my head, narrating what I was doing. I just could never compare:
"As Andres completed Level Three of Gears of War on his X-box 360, he could not help but think "damn, In order to go buy another six pack of Sierra Nevada Pale Ale I would have to put on pants. And not just any pants. Pants with a working zipper." Dammit Sidney!
"The RUGburn Andres felt on his knees as he kneeled down and reached under the couch for the last cool ranch dorito was nothing compared to the HEPburn with whom I co-starred in the acclaimed motion picture Guess Who's Coming To Dinner!" Stop mocking me Poitier!
So enough. If standing around in a bathrobe drinking a beer is the only thing that can quell these feelings then so be it. I give up. Knowing I can never measure up to impossible ideals in a world that doesn’t give a crap about those ideals anyway, I have decided to give up. At life.
Now, there aren't many occupations suitable for someone who has decided to completely give up at life, but I've come up with one. My new job title is:
“Guy in a robe drinking a beer”. As you can see, I'm working right now. And even though I'm always working, i.e. always wearing a robe and drinking a beer, I am also always available. It's magic.
So, hire me. Hire the GIARDAB. I have a very reasonable rate: BEER. If you can make sure that that I'm in a room comfortable enough to lounge about in a robe...in. And you can make sure that I am indeed drinking a beer, and you can make sure that there are resources available to help me dispose of the beer after it's passed through my body, then I will gladly provide the services of a guy in a robe. With a beer. That's he's drinking.
Having a hard time figuring out what you could hire me for. Well, I've done some thinking about that:
I could be a conversation piece. Sure, if you're terrible at conversation, bring me along.
"Hey, what's up with the dude in the robe drinking a beer?"
"Who? Oh him! Funny story about that guy, he's given up at life!"
I could be a relationship aide. Sure, are you having problems with your spouse or significant other, but would rather not confront them head on?
"Honey, I'd rather not discuss this while there's a man in a robe drinking a beer in here."
"Why is he here?"
"I hired him!"
"See this is the kind of stuff I'm talking about...(crying)"
Are you a modern artiste struggling to come up with an idea for your next installation? Incidentally, the installation is a magnificently accommodating art form. If you can't paint, draw, sculpt, compose, or perform something, at least you can INSTALL something. So here's your installation - Picture this: a large white room, somewhere in the depths or reaches or echoing corridors of the MetMOMApolitan Museum of A Few Awesome Things Plus Lots of Crap Of Art. And in that large, white room - me. In a robe. Drinking a beer. Standing in the corner, sort of staring off into space. Across the room on the opposite wall is a scuff mark and several feet below that scuff mark at the base of the wall and scattered on the nearby floor are the fragments of a recently thrown cell phone. A plaque on the wall reads: "Just found out." or maybe "Just got the news" or "two minutes after getting the news". I don't know -- that's the name of the installation. Pretty good right? What news did the guy in the robe just get that made him want to smash his cell phone against the wall and then crack open an ice cold bottle of preferably some sort of India Pale Ale? Or maybe a pilsner? Let's say it's a bottle of Saranac Black Forest beer - dark and rich like a Guinness but with a sweeter tone, no bitterness and a cleaner finish. mmmmmmmm. An installation that really makes you think! Or maybe the installation could just be called "Oh fuck slash what the fuck".
So there you go. I’m available anytime – if you want to hire me to stand around in a robe while I’m drinking a beer, see me after the show. Thanks.
Jason Greenspan over at Moonwork has been nice enough to search his SOUND FILES!!!! and give me a few more mp3ses of my performances:
December 3rd, 2005 - another filthy poetry performance. I swear that's not all I do!
March 4th, 2006 - I pretend to be a blind bluesman singin' and tellin' it.
January 28th, 2006 - performance artist Boutique Wilson rehearses his show.
December 9th, 2006 - the most amazing Christmas sweater I've ever seen. By the way, the Alaska joke is actually my pal Christian Finnegan's, which I subconsciously stole when I wrote this. I took it out for subsequent performances...
I'm doing H2KP again tonight, and here are my rough notes:
START SPOILERS!!!
[I'll be wearing my 'The Cheat' T-shirt and my nightguard, which will give me a lateral lisp. I'll also have a bag of McDonald's food and some various candies that I'll be picking at]
Yes, my name is Zest Patterson, founder and curator of the ultimate movie, tv, comic book and videogame fanboy website ainteverythingcool.yes -- do I really think absolutely everything is cool? The answer's after the dot folks! I am so psyched about all things that I wear my nightguard 24/7, otherwise I'd grind my teeth into oblivion and you CANNOT GUM PEANUT BRITTLE. Anyway, It is my sincerest pleasure to be here tonight. You know, I've been looking forward to three things in 2007:
ONE - The movie '300' - oh man 300. I love women, don't get me wrong. Don't get me wrong, I loooove the ladies. BUT. Gerard Butler was so hot, and his abs were so defined in that movie, if you threw pancake batter at his midsection it would bounce back as a waffle. A hot, crispy waffle.
TWO - The platinum ambien DVD edition of Machutika Nataki's anime masterpiece Rape Wolf Udon. It's the ambien cut - some people drive or eat in their sleep when they're on the stuff, but Nataki-San fucking recut the whole movie in his sleep and it's supposedly completely unintillegible. I can't wait.
THREE - How To START SPOILERS Kick END SPOILERS People!
Yeah, so great to be here.
-----
I have parts in three upcoming projects in which I've been lucky enough to portray three very different characters.
ONE - In 'The Transformers', starring the incomprable Shia La Beouf, I play a geeky comic book shop proprietor - my character is sort of Michael Bay's nod to the Transformer fanboys who've been criticizing the film for not remaining 100% faithful to the cartoon. My character START SPOILERS meets his demise when Optimus Prime steps on him as I yell "This isn't how giant robots would sound like! This isn't like the cartoo-" END SPOILERS.
TWO - In the inimitable Shia La Beouf's directorial debut entitled 'Whatev', I play the proprietor of a comic book shop that Shia frequents during his START SPOILERS Sixth END SPOILERS Year of College. It's sort of our generation's 'Reality Bites'.
THREE - In the new CW reality show 'Duff, Duff, Puff and La Beouf', I play a comic book shop proprietor who moderates an ongoing prank competition between Hillary Duff, Duff the bassist from Velvet Revolver, a cartoon dragon and the START SPOILERS cocaine-addled END SPOILERS Shia La Bouf.
-----
TODD'S LIMERICK - If Todd Levin were a warrior in the game Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion, and that limerick were a shield or suit of armor, and my appreciation for said limerick were measured in dragon fire, Todd would be unharmed even though everything else in the melee zone would be totally scorched! 10! DAWG!
BOB'S LIMERICK - There once was a man named Bob Powers, whose facial expressions were mostly made up of glowers. And his limerick about Darfur - made me wanna go to the Bar fer a drinking spree that would last hours. Depressing stuff man. I was disappointed, so you get a 10 minus.
-----
TODD'S PIECE - I tell ya, I've been following the buzz about that particular piece of Todd's for a while now. Heard some great things from my spies at the test readings, such great things in fact that I thought they might be plants, but I tell you right here and now, that piece was Lando's little Indian-dude co-pilot from Return of the Jedi, my brain was the Millenium Falcon, and it just knocked my radar dish clean off as we made the final assault on the Death Star of not-awesomeness. Another 10!! DAWG!
-----
TODD'S DANCE - The only thing slower, more awkard, and involving that much curly hair and hugging than that dance was the goodbye scene in Return of the King. Very lame. I'm going to have to give it a 9.7.
BOB'S DANCE - Dude, what the heck was that weird strappy thing you pulled out from under her shirt! Is that like a slingshot or something? Wow, cool! 10 DAWG!
-----
BOB'S PIECE - Hmm. I haven't been that upset by a piece of theater or film since Brad Pitt was told that START SOILERS Gwynth Paltrow's head END SPOILERS was in that box in the movie S-E-the numeral 7-E-N. I think it's pronounced Sesevenen. Ha! But seriously, very disappointed. 9.9.
END SPOILERS!!!
I play Dr. Eph in this parody of the show 'Starting Over'.
This is a new, fat version of a very old piece. I think this monologue dates back to 1998 or so, but this recording is from 2007 at the Manhattan Monologue Slam. What the monologue lacks in length in this version, I make up for in girth. Egads:
In the unlikely event that the name Andres du Bouchet is already taken when I join the Screen Actors Guild, I have decided upon an alternate stage name:
Romeo Panama Jr.
I threw the "Jr." in there to give the impression that I'm from noble Hollywood stock, the son of old-time star of stage and screen Romeo Panama, he of such films as Weep For Scarlet, Treasure of the Murder Heist and, in his later years, Coastguard III, Frat Planet (as Dean Wormhole) and Runaway Dirigible.
Romeo Panama Jr. is just one permutation of my new name. When in the recording studio, I'll be Ro-Pan. When I guest star on shows like 'Law And Order' or 'Clue Scene: Special Montage Unit' I'll be R. Panama Jr. And when I appear on MTV's 'Pause From Your Fucking To Vote' show, I'll just be special guest V-J, P.J.
INT. A BAR OR LOUNGE - NIGHT
A group of male 30somethings are in the midst of a 'guys night out', drinking, cutting loose and enjoying each other's company. These guys are dressed casually, but are professionals. We join them as they chuckle about some certainly off-color joke one of them has just told.
As the laughter fades, MIKE pipes up enthusiastically:
MIKE
Oh hey, did I tell you, my doctor told me about a great new patch for men. It's called Rectalieve.
CHRIS
That's right, Rectalieve is the only medicinal patch just for men. It alters your body chemistry so that you only fart twice a year.
BEAT.
ROB
Finally, a patch for us guys!
CHRIS
Rectalieve uses a unique enzyme blocker that synthesizes the gas your body produces into a soluble protein such that you simply do not ever fart. This imbalance corrects itself naturally with just two large scale farts on a bi-annual basis.
(the guys are amazed/concerned/processing this info)
MARK
Just two farts a year, huh?
JACK
I've farted twice since we started this conversation!
ALL
(laughter)
CHRIS
But seriously. Just two farts a year. That's all. Just imagine the peace of mind.
MARK
Do we get to pick when we fart?
CHRIS
No, you'll fart on January 2nd and July 5th.
MIKE
(concerned) What...are the two farts like?
CHRIS
I'm not going to lie to you, each of your bi-annual farts will be quite a production. Rectalieve recommends that you sequester yourself in a secluded location far from any open flames or pre-war structures. Ask your doctor before using Rectalieve if you have liver, kidney or adrenal disease because this could cause serious heart and health problems. You shouldn't take Rectalieve if you're on a daily long term treatment for a chronic condition like cardiovascular diease, or chronic inflammatory disease. Serious risks include blood clot, stroke, and heart attack, so men especially over 35 shouldn't smoke while using Rectalieve.
ROB
Wow, you really know your stuff.
CHRIS
I didn't go to Medical School for nothing.
MARK
Show off!
CHRIS
Rectalieve does not protect agains HIV or STDs.
JACK
Why would I think that it would?
MIKE
Hey, how come women can't use Rectalieve?
CHRIS
Listen to this guy - Mike, women don't fart.
MIKE
Oh yeah!
ALL
(laughter)
ROB
Wait a second, my wife farts.
MARK
Then you're married to a dude, fag.
ROB
Yeah, I know. (high fives Jack)
CHRIS
Ask your doctor about Recalieve. Or visit 2farts.com.
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The site was designed by the incomprable Jonny Fido, who took my simple concept and ran with it all the way to hilarity-town. It still needs some work, but the first step is to get more photos of dogs in bras. That's where YOU come in! Seriously.