Well, I’m back in the office following a grueling yet very enjoyable weekend in San Diego. Pete Woeste is shooting day two of Kindred I down on Stage 6. Scenes up today: team geared for mission, Sheppard’s update, Lorne delivers the news, parlay, and the situation room.
As I mentioned in yesterday’s blog, I received an email from my good friend Ali. To those of you who haven’t been following my online adventures – fed up with the spam solicitations that were inundating my yahoo inbox, I decided to respond to a couple in an attempt to: a) waste their time, b) amuse myself. What started as a simple over-the-top response has, in some cases, turned into a long and involved correspondence. Take the case of the ailing Ali who contacted me from his sickbed in Argentina with an offer of millions of dollars to start up an orphanage in his name. I, or more accurately Aloysius P. Hazzencockle, was only to happy to take him up on it. His latest email arrived this past weekend:
I got your mail in a second chance,glad your are doing great.could you simply go ahead to give me your imfo’s it will enable me get direct down to business with you .I have addopted you as my next of kin to inheret my worth on the need for the less previlaged.I really need to know who you are with your information and who inheret this fund to the knowledge of my medical doctor as the need be .Thanks ,i will be expecting from you .
“Ali my friend, you sound great for a guy with one foot in the grave! Who knows? Keep it up and you may outlive us all! Ha ha ha! (Seriously though, if you do find yourself in the long tunnel, waste no time and run towards the light. I’ve read reports of lingerers who missed the opportunity and ended up back in their bodies, condemned to live out their miserable existences as circus clowns and Sharon Stone. Imagine the worst. You, in your sickened state, wasting away in a hospital bed, impatiently awaiting death’s icy embrace while, I, halfway across the globe and fit as a fiddle, step onto a crosswalk and am macerated by a speeding rickshaw. Then where would we be? Me, dead. You, almost dead. Your money, unspent. The countless street urchins that may have benefited from the ALI IN THE FAMILY HOME FOR ORPHANS AND ALOYSIUS P. HAZZENCOCKLE never to know the comforts of a warm straw bed or the pleasures of firing a crossbow).
Speaking of the orphan-castle, things are going well following a minor hiccup. Taking a page from the Pharaohs of Egypt, I thought it might be a good idea to entomb the work crew after they were finished so that the secrets of the castle would die with them. Unfortunately, complications arose when I realized that as skilled workers already under contract, they would have to be the ones to do the entombing and, as it turns out, a little known sub-section of a clause in the union agreement forbids self-immurement. The only other option was to hire a second crew to wall up the first crew but with their job complete, I’d be faced with the same problem. In the end, I decided to do away with the headaches of unionized workers altogether and put the orphans to work. They may not be as quick or as capable (sadly, three perished attempting to install my alabaster pool slide), but it feels good to know I have given them direction and a sense of purpose beyond basic survival. By doing this, they are building character. And a castle.
Finally, thank you for adopting me. You’re like the sickly illiterate father I never had.
Aloysius P. Hazzencockle
P.S. Great news! I was able to purchase a dozen moat-worthy crocodiles off eBay. They will arrive via UPS as soon as the check clears. Will keep you posted.”
Today’s pics: Snaps from the set, and an old friend drops by to visit.