My daughter turned 18.

Let me clarify, wiseasses, it was my oldest daughter, and no, I wasn't flirting with Lindsey Lohan at her party. I was talking to Lindsey. There's a difference. If I'm talking to a beautiful girl, and happen to have a smile on my face, I'm trying to get into her pants, apparently. I wish I had known this earlier in my ( Read more... )

I walk into my office one afternoon to see a little guy across the desk, accompanied by one of my production partners, and my ex-wife. Long day, two of the dogs had to go to the vet's, one for shots, the other because she had an infection in her eye, poor thing ( Read more... )

Look at that.

It's alive. After God knows how long, I remembered the password on this thing. I wonder if I remember the AIM one. Huh.

More later. At the moment, I just wanted to reestablish myself. Be good, and I'll tell you a story about Damon Wayans and Halle Berry.

It may not be a true one, but I'll tell it well, I promise.

According to my middle daughter, there's an article, smallish, about me, and my "lifestyle" in one of the star gossip magazines this week. How I'm apparently pining away quietly for Demi ( Read more... )

I'm afraid of something ( Read more... )

Hm.

Could be time to dust off the old AIM, and see who's still alive out there.

Leave me your names, my pretties. I promise I'll leer over your shoulders at whatever it is you're doing.

bruno is bruce

I did my stuff on "That '70's Show". Played the head of security for a mall or something, I'm not entirely sure. I spent the last little bit on autopilot, so I'm just regurgitating scripts at this point. I go to the bathrrom, and find a paragraph of over-wrought dialogue lying there to be read. It's ridiculous ( Read more... )

I sort of wish I could just stay out of the country, sometimes. It'd be easier, I think, as a whole, if I could. In Italy, not everyone's watching my every move. Sure, there are drawbacks. Paparazzi follow you everywhere, even here. But then, I could go to Alaska and set up shop in a fucking igloo, and they'd still pop out, snap my picture, ( Read more... )

Reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated. The death of my relationship, sure. But not my death, no.

The ex-wife got married. Congrats, Ashton. You big crybaby.

I'm the asshole.

It's not that I'm not used to it. I am. I've been that guy, you know that guy, the one who starts shit for no real reason, far too many times in my life. Talk to Cybill sometime. She'll tell you. Not that I didn't have a reason every time I started one of those fights ( Read more... )