Saturday, April 30 th, 2005
The true test of a friendship is if you can spend more than 24 hours together without killing each other. Angel and I had our first experience with that this weekend. We had a slumber party last night (again, he is a 15 year old girl trapped in a XX-year old’s body -- I’ve signed a contract that I can never reveal his true age to anyone and am throwing him a sweet sixteen bash this year) and spent the entire day together.
We were supposed to go to this club called Boy’s Room in Long Beach together last night, but Angel had a crisis at work and was running behind, unable to come pick me up until around midnight. At this point, I’m thinking, why are we still going out to Long Beach? By the time we get there, we’ll be at the club for all of an hour before it closes. We should just go to a place here in West Hollywood. But hell, we’re on the VIP guest list for the club and now Angel has already made plans to pick up another friend on the way, so whatever.
Well, I should’ve remembered that Angel is but a 15 year old girl and trusted my gut instincts. The club closed a half an hour earlier than we thought. We weren’t on the guest list. His friend we picked up was cracked out on some highly caffeinated alcoholic beverage (also known as crystal meth, probably) and was literally screaming at us about how much Mariah is still in love with Tommy and that “Prisoner” will always be his favorite song. The night was a bust. By the time we got back to my place, the slumber party was more like just a slumber.
The next morning we were up at the crack of dawn and ran some errands together before going out to Chatsworth to visit the set of Sin City’s Barely 18 # 19. One of the straight male porn stars on the set is one of the hottest guys to have entered the biz in years. Angel concurred. His name was Kris Knight and he was… woof, most impressive! Amazing performer, too! It’s been a long time since I’ve visited a set and actually thought to myself, “I am one of the luckiest guys in the world to be paid to watch this for a living.” Years, really. We take our jobs for granted sometimes until angels like this fall down from heaven and remind us just how good we have it. Here’s a sneak peek at what he looks like, but the photos don’t do him justice like the ones I took on set. Look for a Voyeur’s Log entry with full on-set report and exclusive photo gallery plus video clips on Thursday!
Then, it was back to my place for dinner and a screening of Star Wars: Episode II - Attack of the Clones. Angel hadn’t seen it yet and wanted to get caught up before III comes out in a couple weeks.
We ended our day at Blue Blake’s party where we hung with Ben Campezi, Troy Punk, Xara Diaz, Drew Warner and Gino Colbert for an hour before getting on the dance floor long enough to catch everyone’s attention and left them all wanting more.
Twenty-four hours together and no hair pulling or scratching. Yup. He’s one of the few keepers.
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Tuesday, April 26 th, 2005
There’s so much you don’t know about what happened behind the scenes on my episode of The TV Guide Channel’s Open Call and now that it has aired, I am at liberty to tell all, lay it all out on the table the whole sordid story from beginning to end. You want to know what really happened? Here’s it is… which, ironically, is more entertaining than the show itself!
Once upon a time, my friend Angel Benton (independent film actor and world-famous “I’m huge in Japan!“ Britney Spears drag queen) rang me up and asked me to accompany him on a cattle call to audition for a reality series on The TV Guide Channel. In their breakdown they were looking for who would be television’s next wild best friends and -- in their words -- “the next Paris and Nicole, the next Simple Life.” I’ve never seen The Simple Life, but after hearing Paris’s rules for life from her autobio, Angel convinced me that I have an awful lot in common with Paris Hilton. Plus, I can’t deny that Angel and I together are like reality TV fodder. Our antics are pretty mesmerizing when we go out in public together. However, we are -- or were, at the time of the audition -- far from best friends. We’d hung out a few times, we’d had our tongue down each other’s throats and we are probably the only other person to each other with whom we can relate of being on what our fearless leader Kathy Griffin calls The D-List. (She’s so B-List now though, it’s not even funny.)
Angel also happens to be a virgin and I happen to have experience as a slut. I quickly decided our sell to the TV Guide Channel would be this: We are the Angel and the Devil, the blonde and the brunette, the Britney and the Christina, the virgin and the whore.
So the two of us trek down to Hollywood and Highland one sunny Sunday afternoon and wait in line for our audition. In front of us is straight male porn star Dave Pounder, who is at every cattle call for reality television I’ve ever been to. He’s hitting on girls in line and announcing that he fucks pussy for a living. The last time I saw him do this was at an audition for an MTV show that I ended up snagging. He, on the other hand, they wouldn’t even put in front of a camera for an audition . It was, “Thanks for your interest, have a nice day,” upon which he was quick to point out, “He’s in porn too! He’s in porn!” I feigned befuddlement and told the casting director I don’t know who this man is and I’ve never seen him in my life. As he walked off, he was still talking about pussy. Now, today here he is auditioning for TV Guide and it’s apparently not his first time in this line. The producers later told me that he showed up for every audition they had and wouldn’t you know he wound up on one of the episodes! Dave’s big episode was the one that aired right before ours. So congratulations, Dave! Welcome to the D-List.
Looking at the rest of the people in line, I turn to Angel and say, “We’re definitely getting a call back. Trust me. I have a good gut instinct about these things.”
It’s right around that time that this woman appears with a megaphone and of course it’s always the people who don’t need megaphones who choose to use them. Overbearing in both personality and stature, this is Markie Costello, producer for The TV Guide Channel. As I would later come to learn, she is also the head of her own talent agency for hosts and the granddaughter of one of my biggest childhood idols, comedic genius Lou Costello. Markie screams into the megaphone, “Who wants their own TV show?!” The crowd does not go wild. She is followed with a camera and picks people out of the crowd and asks them abrasive questions. Thankfully, she does not pick us. She explains what she’s going to be looking for in the audition and with that, they begin slowly letting people into the studio. We arrived relatively early so we were in pretty fast.
The instant I step into the studio, I realize it is the former stomping grounds of the brother (sister?) I never had, Ryan Seacrest. The logo for his now defunct show On Air is everywhere. No, I mean everywhere. They used it as wallpaper actually. And there’s his heavily airbrushed face, too, wearing almost as much makeup as I. We do have so much in common what with the hosting thing and our inherent need to do ourselves up with more foundation than Jon Benet Ramsey for any public appearance.
Before too long, we’re in front of Markie and many cameras. We explain who we are, how we met, why we’re best friends and why the TV Guide Channel should give us our own reality show for all of five minutes. Markie loves us. I can tell. And I love Markie. She’s a bitch troll who tells it like it is and shoots from the hip. I think she’s fabulous.
After the audition, we are greeted by another camera crew in a post audition interview where we are asked what we feel our chances are of getting a call back. My sixth sense is telling me this is not the last I’ll see of Miss Costello and her pant suits. Angel is less than convinced.
Here’s where things get interesting!
Angel and I both receive a phone call that evening from Markie telling us that we are one of three pairs of best friends getting called back out of the hundreds that showed up that day.
We’re also then told the truth for the first time: This is not just an audition for our own reality series on the TV Guide Channel. This already is a reality series on the TV Guide Channel and we are now officially on it. The show is called Open Call and it’s a reality series about the casting process for reality series. Markie Costello is not only the producer, she’s also the host. Doh! We’ve been had.
The good news here is that we’re definitely going to be on The TV Guide Channel. The bad news is that we’re appearing on what is practically a game show, competing against two other teams for our own shows. Oh well, what the hell. If Griffin can do the Squares, we can do Open Call! Anything to stay on that D-List.
A week later, we’re back at the studio and we meet the other two pairs. Out of the six people altogether, we are the only guys and the only ones who are gay. The first two girls remind me a lot of Glori-Anne Gilbert and Melissa Wolf, a couple of older off-beat pinup girls who look and act like they’ve just been plucked out of an adult comic strip. The other pair is made up of two plain Janes who hail from the Midwest. They’re on their first vacation to the big city and just happened to be passing by Hollywood and Highland when they asked what the big line was for and decided, “Why not? Let’s have some fun and audition.” They are cute and perky enough, but don’t have a lot of energy or personality and they’re definitely NOT the next Paris and Nicole. At this point, I’m thinking we have this thing in the bag!
We are followed around by a camera crew for the entire day and are interviewed by a panel of C-List celebrity judges: Shavonda from The Real World: Philadelphia, who I keep referring to as Shaneequa; Jamie from The Real World: San Diego, who I totally don’t recognize; and John Henson, who at first I don’t recognize as the former host of E!’s Talk Soup and later apologize because I have always been such a huge fan of the Muppets. All of this is on camera. They have nearly ten hours of footage on us and I’m sorry, but we were funny as all fuck. I was flirting openly with crew members and talking about hanging out with porn stars. My inhibitions had left the building like Elvis. I was ON that day! It was like my radio show without the naked people. They want Paris & Nicole? They want wild and off the wall? We’re giving it to them so fierce it was like, “Fuck being the next Paris & Nicole. We’re the first Angel & Jason!” I mean, come on! The comic strip girls are like in their late 40’s pretending to be 20 and the other girls are sweet but just so boring I can barely be around them for the day much less watch an entire series about them! We are so in. We will MAKE the TV Guide Channel. We will be to the TV Guide Channel what Madonna was to MTV. And we would’ve been too! If only…
During the last five minutes of filming, before the judges were to make their final decisions, one of the plain Janes pulled the dirtiest trick in the book. We all learned it in elementary school and when push comes to shove, we know it’s the last card to pull, but we never expected it from these two nobodys from Omaha, Nebraska or wherever the fuck they’re from.
The bitch broke down and CRIED. Yup, shed tears. Right there in front of the judges and on camera. And over what? She revealed to the judges in an intimate interview that she had been engaged but knew it wasn’t right for either of them to be married to each other so she cheated on him so that it could be her fault and not his. She bared the brunt and took the heat so they wouldn’t make a mistake for the rest of their lives. … Honey, get off the cross because people need the wood, okay? You’re a slut and stop trying to justify it as anything else in your head. You’re a fucking whore and it’s okay. But don’t try to make yourself out to be the victim and don’t cry about it on nationally syndicated television. This is not your Barbara Walters interview. This Lorna Luft looking bitch who is hosting is not Maury Povich. This is Markie fucking Costello and the cunting search for the next god damned Paris and Nicole!
Needless to say, they won. What you don’t see at the end of the show is the highlight of the day. When the judges are giving their opinions of us before voting, Shakendra and Jaime tell Angel and I, “You two seem to know who you are a little too much. When we went in for The Real World, we didn’t know who we were and for reality television, it should be more about finding yourself. Self-discovery!”
“Ok, but I have something to say,” interjects Angel.
“No,” says Markie. “You can’t talk right now.”
“No, no, but just one quick thing!” says Angel. “We’re not here to audition for the next Real World. We’re here to audition for the next Simple Life. The next Paris and Nicole.”
A look of confusion sweeps across the judges faces. They look to Markie. Markie looks like she’s just soiled herself. Has she not told the judges this? “That’s a good point!” she says quickly, wide-eyed, “and one we probably should have taken into account. Oh well, turn those ballots in!”
LaQuanda has no hesitation now. She’s just been called out by a gay virgin on camera and she’s not having it. The San Diego girl looks like a deer caught in headlights. She is so confused and looking at all of us, silently pleading, “What am I supposed to do? Oh no! OH NO! WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO??!” I kindly give her a look that says, “Please, girl. It’s the TV Guide Channel. Not E! Turn in your ballot. No one’s gonna cry.”… Oh wait, maybe someone will.
So it is decided. The plain Janes have it. They are the next Paris & Nicole. When the show finally aired, Angel and I found that they had changed the name of the episode from the next Paris & Nicole to “The Next Best Friends” (which is really obviously a blunder because every other episode is the next Martha Stewart, the next Donald Trump, etc.) and of the ten hours of hilarious footage we gave them, only five minutes collectively was used. Naturally. If they’d kept the original title or shown even an iota of what we were like in the studio that day, everyone would be saying, “Why on Earth did the plain Janes from Kansas get it?”
Oh, and that’s the other thing. What did they get? Their own reality series? No. Their own pilot for a reality series? No. They were followed around with cameras for a day and it was edited down to the last five minutes of the show. If we’d known that’s what we were competing for all along, we’d have never even gone in the first place.
In short, we were had on false pretenses. Well, sort of. You can’t milk the milker! I got a shit load of press from it because of my own press releases, my resume now says recurring for the TV Guide Channel and I’m using their logo on my web site. No one can take advantage of Jason Sechrest. Just try to give me lemons. I’ll make a fucking chocolate soufflé.
Incidentally, John Henson voted for us and now Angel is ready to lose his virginity to him. He also told me after the show that he felt I would make an amazing host and would like to see my Internet radio show sometime. So, hell, I’d say it’s been a good month between that and the standing ovation from Queer as Folk’sHal Sparks.
And hey, I like Open Call. I’ve seen more episodes than just mine now and I find myself riveted every time I see it. We had about as much air time as everyone else on the show, really. The show is basically just a vehicle for Markie Costello. Angel thinks that’s disgusting and wrong that it’s all about the host and not about the people themselves.
I say, “Go, Markie!” I’d do the same thing if I were in your position as producer and host. I think she’s funny as fuck too. My parents didn’t think so though. My father said, “I didn’t care for Costello. She’s no Lou.” My mother said, “Someone should tell her to stay away from bright yellow jackets. The attire, that is. Not the bees.”
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Friday, April 22 nd, 2005
“The thoughtless things he’ll do may hurt and worry you. Then all at once he’ll do something wonderful.” - Rodgers & Hammerstein
I had a bit of a scare yesterday with my six-month old black lab, Sadie. I took her in to be spade and in some freak coincidence, during the few minutes it takes to actually perform the surgery, she began menstruating. Her blood vessels were dilated, of course, and she lost a lot more blood than what my doctor was comfortable with. I was receiving phone calls every five minutes to update me on the progress. Needless to say, I was freaking out. Fortunately, they were able to save her, but she will take twice as long to heal and is in twice as much pain.
Jack Ryan has a black lab too and happened to call just as all of this was going down. I told him the worst thing was that I had to pick her up, run her back to my place and then go be funny hosting Cocktails with the Stars at Micky’s. What a test of my performance power! I was pulling it off pretty well, too. Until Jack showed up with a care package full of toys and treats for Sadie. It was everything I could do to keep from crying. I threw my arms around him and I think in that moment I may have fallen just a little bit for Jack Ryan.
He was on his way to dinner and didn’t stay, but he made my night. And Sadie’s.
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Wednesday, April 13 th, 2005
I saw The King & I at the Pantages Theatre tonight with Damon Intrabartolo, the writer of the smash off-Broadway musical, Bare. We both fell asleep. I don’t care what Billy Masters says. Star quality? Stage presence? Where? Stephanie Powers? The woman is mere inches away from doing a Julie Andrews imitation and if she’d just gone all the way, it may have been bearable. For God’s sake, they may as well have called it Heart to Heart - The Musical! Why did they actually call it The King & I anyway? The King and who? It’s not told in the first person! Is it a play on some phrase that was used often during that time period or did they just pull it out of their asses? I mean, it could’ve been called Flying Saucers & Pizza for that matter. And let’s face it, it’s not one of Rodgers & Hammerstein’s best. It was a cracked out moment in their careers. There’s no big musical finale. Where’s the big last number? Some Chinese bitch starts to wail and the King yells, “SILENCE!” That’s no way to end a musical! Sure, the music’s good, but when it’s sung in operatic tones by the Chinese, you just want to break a dinner plate and slit your ankles like Mariah Carey before you. You wanna hear good versions? Listen to Barbra’s renditions! Check out the “I Have Dreamed/We Kiss In A Shadow” medley on The Broadway Album or even better “My Lord And Master” on People. Hell, even “Something Wonderful” on Liza’s Back where she dedicates it to David is good for a laugh. But if Stephanie Powers comes to your neck of the woods, stay home and rent the movie… or just watch a good episode of Heart to Heart.
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Wednesday, April 10 th, 2005
I put on the eyeliner for the first time in years and performed “Don’t Tell Momma” and “Cabaret” tonight at a benefit for AIM HealthCare in association with Friends Helping Friends Fight Crystal Meth. Nina Hartley and Ron Jeremy hosted the show and they were both fantastic, as were my stage dancers (that actually showed up!) Brittany Andrews, Brandon Baker and Mikey G.. I had rehearsed the famous chair dance for weeks and it came off way better than I had expected! My voice was in pretty good condition too considering how nervous I was! I must say, we did bring the house down and were by far the hottest act with the hottest applause of the evening. For what it was, the crowd’s reaction was pretty amazing. I got a lot of requests to perform at other venues too. I think I’m going to put together a full on cabaret show like this. The next date I’m doing is Tuesday, May 10 th at Sardos in Burbank.
Here’s some photos from the event and the full video is available in the JC TV section on Adult Undercover. I’d love to know what you think!
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Friday, April 8 th, 2005
I went to the L.A. premiere and after party of the new gay indie film, Eating Out, this evening with my good friend, Angel Benton. And who knows gay indie films better than Angel? First of all, it’s so refreshing to see a gay indie film that isn’t all about drugs or AIDS or porn stars. This is one of the few genre movies out there right now that is a comedy and make no mistake, it is slide splittingly funny. So funny, in fact, I need to see it again because the audience’s laughter was so loud, we kept missing the next punch line. Ryan Carnes, the hot gay gardener from Desperate Housewives is in the movie, featuring full frontal nudity! And while he plays gay here too, I found out he’s straight in real life and is actually devoutly Christian. But it’s the straight boy in the movie, Scott Lunsford, whose full frontal is the most hung and whose acting is the most believable. In fact, the weakest link in the movie may be its biggest star, Jim Verraros of American Idol fame. To be given a script this absolutely perfect and overact is pure sin. Still, his poor delivery couldn’t touch the energy and essence of such a brilliant movie. After the flick, Angel and I hit up the after party where we were surprised at how many people knew who we were. We posed for press with the cast and hung out with the director, Q. Allan Brocka, who told us that they actually insisted the straight men make out in order to get the job! Brocka said he didn’t want there to be any last minute “freaking out” and wanted to know first hand that they were comfortable with the… um, material. And boy, were they! It’s one of those movies that will make you piss your pants from laughing so hard and make you bust a nut in them from your raging hard-on. Yes, it’ll just be one big circus down there by the time the movie’s through! Oddly enough, the director actually wanted to know if the movie had given me a boner. And I was pleased to inform him that yes, it had! Anyway, Eating Out is so far the funniest (and yes, the hottest) movie I’ve seen all year -- indie, mainstream or even adult for that matter! -- and I’ve already pre-ordered my DVD, which becomes available on July 26 th. You can order your copy too at a special pre-order price of 20% OFF in the Curious Corner Store.
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Thursday, April 7 th, 2005
Chad “10 Inch” Donovan kicked off the new month at Micky’s Cocktails with the Stars, hosted by yours truly and brought along with him his hot as fuck boyfriend, Antonio Madiera. I absolutely adore these two! First of all, they’ve been together for like five years and that’s just amazing that any gay couple can last that long, much less one who works in porn. Secondly, the thought of Chad’s humongous cock filling up this little boy’s ass several times a day is just more heart attack inducing. Just look at Antonio’s perfect butt! How does it take something so big?!
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Wednesday, April 6 th, 2005
As they said on that most famous episode of Seinfeld, “I am no longer master of my own domain.” After more than four months of no anal sex, I finally broke down and banged a boy tonight. I had been craving it for the past week or so. At first I resisted, but then I began to unconsciously pull out my hair and dig my nails into my thighs on a regular basis.
I think it was good that I went through a “rest” period. It was cleansing. To go from having sex a few times a week to cold turkey for that long is pretty amazing, but like I said in past diary entries, I just don’t feel the need for it any more. It no longer fills the void… ahem, so to speak. And I’m just looking for something more substantial.
But fuck if I’m going to be celibate waiting for Mr. or Mrs. Right to come along. A man has needs! It’s a primal urge. We must spread our seed. You can’t fight nature.
There’s a big difference though between a few times a week and once every few months. I think I may have finally found my grey area.
Oh yeh, the sex was great by the way. Duh! Of course, it was. Can you imagine how it felt?
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Tuesday, April 5 th, 2005
I have agreed to do myself up in my alter ego DV8 Boi garb and perform a couple of showstopping show tunes for an AIM benefit to help fight for crystal meth next Sunday night. Of course, when I agreed to it, I thought we were fighting for more crystal meth, but whatever, it’s a party and I’m down. (Kidding, by the way! Hello, anyone who knows me knows I won’t even touch pot, much less crystal.)
So tonight I was promoting that benefit at club Sardos in Burbank for their Porn Star Karaoke night. This is quite the famous hangout in the straight porn biz and I’ve had a few people beg me to go there for over a year and I’ve just never gathered the strength to actually do it. See, I’ve never sung in public before and while I love singing, I’m just petrified of doing it in front of people for some reason. It’s the only form of entertainment that I really get nervous about and I suppose that might be because it’s the most important to me. My father is a brilliant folk musician and my mother did a lot of musical theatre and I guess I just never felt like I really lived up to either of them. But it’s a fear I need to really overcome because it does give me such joy and that’s part of the reason I agreed to this benefit. Nothing like a good cause to make us get over our ego and get out there and do what’s right, not only for us, but to help other people too.
So with much trepidation I drove my ass out to Burbank for a midnight performance of the song “Cabaret.” The second I stepped out of my car and made my way towards the bar, my stomach began to knot. This was not my crowd. These people were so straight, I swear I was waiting for someone to take out a baseball bat and bash in my brain. I waited in line practically shaking until the owner of the club recognized me and thank God grabbed me and pulled me to the front of the line. “We’ve wanted you to come here for so long!” he said. “I’m so glad you’re here tonight. You don’t have to wait in line, come on in.”
However, he quickly abandoned me and I was left to my own defenses not knowing anyone around me. I’m suddenly starting to rethink the Liza like sequined shirt! There, across the room, I spot some pornsters I actually know: Wankus, Stormy Daniels and Katie Gold. I gave Wankus my CD and he told me I’d be on in a few minutes and could talk about the benefit. Stormy told me her love life is nill, but her sex life is great and introduced me to her hot as fuck publicist who is not her contracted company Wicked’s PR guy Daniel Metcalf, but instead a ball cap and jersey wearing straight acting gay boy. And I in my Liza shirt just didn’t stand a chance. I couldn’t stand the heartache of being near him and unable to have him, so thank goodness Katie Gold was there to be my rock for the evening and I literally leaned on and clung to her for dear life until I had to go up in front of everyone and sing my show tune.
I decided to just get the gay thing out of the way. I’m a trained actor and I played a stoner frat boy in a movie for Roger Corman so I know how to pull off the straight thing pretty well. I grabbed the microphone and grabbed my crotch at the same time and said, “Yo, yo, yo… whasup? I’m gonna sing this fuckin’ song that… … aw, fuck it guys! I’m sorry, I’m GAAAAAAAAAY!” Every female in the crowd yelled and clapped so loud, it was amazing. I then proceeded to be natural gay self and talk about the benefit, cracking the same sort of jokes that I made about meth at the beginning of this very diary entry! They went over well with that crowd. I then assumed the position and began the song.
The second the music started, from the first bar, I was transported to another place. It was all about the music and had nothing to do with me and I don’t even remember most of it. I know I did the signature Liza moves from the movie. I know I bumped and grinded myself in front of various straight men, all of whom seemed very flattered and/or amused. I know I hit some kick-ass notes now and then that I hadn’t expected to come out of my throat with how nervous I felt. And I know that when I stepped out of whatever spell I was under, the entire bar was clapping and screaming louder than they had the entire night. And as I looked out in the crowd, I saw that a standing ovation was being started by none other than Hal Sparks, the lead actor on the popular Showtime series Queer as Folk.
I had met Hal before and I thanked him profusely. We talked about how this is the show’s final season. He says it was a tearful goodbye, but that he and the rest of the cast are glad to move on. It was a mutual decision on all cast members parts, despite some tabloid reports. He feels there are few episodes in the upcoming season that are just filler, but the series finale is his favorite episode ever. We also talked about how sad it is that a show with such brilliant writers and cast members was never acknowledged by the Emmy’s or the Golden Globes -- especially when it comes to Sharon Gless, who gave the performance of her career. “What will happen though, I guarantee you, is that Sharon will do some Lifetime movie after this and she’ll win the award, but she won’t be winning it for that. She’ll really be winning it for the work she did here,” he said.
Anyway, I couldn’t have asked for a better reception for my first time belting in public. Wankus said on his radio show the next day that it was one of the best performances he’d seen in a long time and he was so surprised, for being such a long song, how the audience was glued to it the entire time. “He blew the roof off the joint,” he said, and coming from him, that means a lot.
So, I think I’ve conquered my fear and I’m looking forward to the benefit. Maybe now I’ll even have the balls to start auditioning for some musical theatre.
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