October 5, 2009

It seems I can run but I can't hide from Ari! But I will not let him squelch my freedom of expression. And so, here is a little something for all you Maya Angelous out there...

September 28, 2009

At first, I was afraid. I was petrified. Kept thinking how I'd ever live with Ari by my side. So then I hid under my desk, thinking how he did me wrong. I had grown strong. And I learned how to carry on.

So now he's back. To buy this place. He just walked in to find me here with a scared look upon my face. I should have left this stupid town. I should have killed him in his sleep. If I had known for just one second he'd be back to bother me!

I want to go! Run out the door! I can't be around now, I won't be welcome anymore. Ari was the one who tried to keep me as his slave. He thought I'd crumble! He thought I'd fall down and cave!

But Oh My My!

I won't survive!

There's just no chance that Ari buys us and lets me stay alive!

I've got all my life to live. And I've got all my love to give. But it's my demise. It's my demise. It's my demise!!!

So, it took all the strength I had not to fall apart, when I'm pricking up the pieces of his broken car. I spent oh so many nights feeling sorry for myself, I use to cry, well, I still cry.

Now look at me. Somebody new. I'm not that chained up little person still assisting you. And so you feel like dropping in, and buying up this agency, and I am freaking out here, Ari, 'cause you're gonna fire me!

Oh God Oh Why!?

I can't survive!

I tried my damnedest, worked my ass off, now my career can't be revived!

Ari ruined my life many times before and broken my sullen heart, but this takes the pie. It's my demise. It's my demise!!!

September 21, 2009

The day has finally arrived. I have my own sidekick! (I mean assistant.) And I'm going to share the wealth of my knowledge with him...not abuse him and grind him into a pulpish shadow of his former self....

September 14, 2009

I've finally achieved my dream!...only it may be a nightmare. Pinch me. Wake me. Tell me I don't have a fear of success that has caused me to leap into the abyss of self-sabotage...

August 31, 2009

So, some of you fine readers who reside in the thirty mile zone may have already heard about a certain, shall we say, incident that occurred at the Miller/Gold offices. Without divulging any names (you'll have to go to Defamer or Nikki Finke for those juicy details), a very important agent was indeed found sleeping in Mr. Gold's office, in all his pajama-and-bathrobe-clad glory. And this isn't even close to the craziest thing I have seen at Miller Gold in my four, long, miserable years.

In fact, the "Pajamas Incident" wouldn't even crack the Top 5! What are the top 5, you ask? Without further ado, I present:

The Top 5 Craziest Moments of the Lloyd Lee Era

5. The Marcel Proust Affair

Mr. Gold has a client who will remain nameless who comes to the office every day between the hours of 11 and 2. He stakes out Ari's office if Ari isn't in, which he rarely is, having gotten wise to this client's plan. I am usually the one who receives the lion's share of this man's complaining and cajoling and conspiring all in efforts to land a staring role worthy of a man of his talents (and, yes, he is a man of many unquestionable talents). Well, one fine day, when Mr. Gold was in about as foul a mood as I have ever seen him, Mr. Intrusive Client decided he would not leave until he was cast as the lead in a Marcel Proust biopic. This display culminated in an impromptu reading from Proust's "In Search of Lost Time" for the entire fifth floor.

And this was only the fifth strangest.

4. The Woman, Scorned.

The most recent addition to the list, this is also the most controversial. In our business, friends, people are not always of the highest moral fiber. One such man works at Miller-Gold and was carrying on an affair with a younger agent. When this man's wife found out, she exploded off the elevator in a high-decibel search for, and please excuse the language, "the whore who's f**king [her] husband." She even stomped into an in-progress meeting in the conference room and interrogated female agent after female agent until, finally, Mr. Gold rescued everyone — especially the scorned wife.

Now, I, again, can't divulge names, but I did play more than a passing role in this calamity. The young agent who had the affair with the elder agent is a nice girl. A sweet girl. A beautiful girl. And, I am sure, a blameless girl. So, I called her. That's right, I called her and warned her and told her to leave the building. I know, it's a bit meddlesome, but the new generation has to stick together!

3. The Twin Killing

Another day at Miller-Gold, another game of high-stakes infidelity. This crazy incident happened out of nowhere as two of our top agents, who happen to be identical twins, managed to bring their home lives into the office, costing both of them their jobs.

One twin was sleeping with the other's wife. Normally, I have much sympathy for the cuckold, but the whole notion of this "twinfidelity" weirded me out to the nth degree! I have seen Sir Gold fire plenty of people. Some are merciful, some are reckless and some are just plain cruel. But, if I don't say so myself, these twin idiots had it coming.

2. The Curious Case of the Male Strippers

When I wake up in the morning, I brush my teeth, floss, take a shower and primp myself for the day ahead, all while cursing my wretched existence as an indentured servant bound to a pitiless barbarian. However, one lovely morning, I arrived at the office and shortly thereafter had the unmatched pleasure of watching two policemen-cum-male-strippers bumping and grinding all over Ari's sorry face.

This stunt occurred in the middle of a spontaneous prank war between Ari and a young rival agent, and was immediately followed by me sending a bag of feces to said agent. Procuring feces for this task is still the most humiliating thing I've ever been made to do. Ari and his rival may have been having a prank war, but the joke was squarely on me.

Now, I am no fan of this hotshot agent, but he will always hold a small place in my heart for brightening one dark day, for when I was sticking my delicate hand in a, well, a toilet, I had the gyrations of Officers Nickerson and Morgan dancing in my brain.

1. Vincent Chase Fires Ari Gold

This story was well-chronicled in mainstream media at the time, but let me give you the inside scoop — this was absolutely devastating for Mr. Gold. Ari has a lot of clients, and a lot of big-time earners, but Vince was, and is, singular. Ari discovered Vince. He plucked him out of a Mentos ad! Their careers rose in synchronicity and harmony. They were almost like brothers. Vince firing Ari would be like Bert firing Ernie! Peanut Butter firing Jelly! Dolce firing Gabbana!!!

But it happened. And thank whatever deity is moving us around like pieces on a chessboard that it didn't last long, for He only knows the kind of torture Mr. Gold would be subjecting me to without his favorite client around.

Until next week, ta ta!

August 24, 2009

This has not been a good week for yours truly. My prized client — well, my only client — was involved in a, shall we say, tête-à-tête with an important executive at the studio of his employ! Now before I place blame on either party, I must sort out fiction from fact, rumor from truth, innuendo from career-immolating actuality.

My client, who I suppose should remain nameless — though everyone who is anyone has heard this tale — allegedly "choked out" said executive. At least that's what one high-profile Hollywood blog said. Another said he "sucker punched" him. Yet another entertainment insider was quoted as saying my client "kneed his boss in the nethers." Of course this insider wasn't named, because it would be humiliating to be quoted saying "nethers."

And what was the cause of this action? This, too, is a mystery wrapped in a puzzle. An assistant friend of mine at the network knows someone who was dating someone who claimed that the network exec in question called my client a "talentless hack," which he most certainly is not, and knowing my client, any assault on his actorly skill would earn the barb-thrower a stern talking-to, if not something much worse. Another mole inside the network posted on his Facebook status that "[My client] was just escorted out by security! Could it be curtains for [character my client portrays]?!?"

All this information, or more likely misinformation, is making my head spin. I do know they canceled all of his scenes. Acting is like breathing air to this particular person. Oh, I hope he is okay.

I did manage to get in touch with my client and he said claimed the executive said something vile which set him off. I also spoke to people at the studio, who claim, to a man, that the studio head is one of the finest men they know in the business (though he does have a reputation for bedding the town's finest bachelorettes).

I am not looking forward to this particular part of being an agent. However, I do understand that my job is to represent my clients during the good and the bad, the ups and the downs, the calm before the storm and the storm itself. So, I will do whatever I can, whatever it takes, to restore the reasonably good name of my client.

Wish me luck!

August 17, 2009

Oy Vey! That means something like Oy Yoy Yoy in Yiddish. Apparently, everyone in Hollywood needs to know a certain amount of Yiddish before they are permitted to climb the next rung on the corporate ladder. I know I'm not exactly Ryan Reynolds when it comes to my physique (did you see him in 'The Proposal?' The things I would do with that Schmedrick), but climbing this next rung is wearing poor Lloyd down.

But mental ladder-climbing is not why I exclaimed in Yiddish. Rather, I am troubled by the recent death wave that has hit Hollywood. The dearly departed can now count among their numbers Farrah Fawcett, Ed McMahon, John Hughes, Frank McCourt, and, of course, the great Karl Malden! (Am I missing anyone?) Is it a modern-day Sodom and Gomorrah? Perhaps.

You may not think of me as such a morbid soul, but working one day, let alone four years, under Ari Gold can turn even the most docile of minds towards thoughts of doom. Oh, I can assure you, the Hollywood Death Brigade will not soon count Lloyd Lee among them. Nor will it claim Sir Ari Gold, as he is undead.

It's true. No mere mortal could possibly be as terrible as Ari Gold is. So what is Ari?

Is he a Vampire?
Pro: He is awake at odd hours. He is bloodthirsty. He attacks his prey and bleeds them bone dry. He is oddly seductive. His favorite color is black. I'm sure he has worn makeup in the past. He trembles at the sight of a crucifix.
Con: He loves steak and salty food. He spends way too much time in the sun (although he does blink a lot...)

Is he a Zombie?
Pro: I have recently seen him with severe bags under his eyes. He says its because the missus has been making him sleep on the couch...but is it actually the first sign of zombie decay? He has come back from being professionally dead, so that has to count for something.
Con: He talks and walks very fast, belying the classic, slow-stalk of the zombie. Zombies eat brains and I know for a fact that he shudders at the thought of sweetbreads.

Is he an Alien?
Pro: I have worked for him for four years and I have never met his family, perhaps a sign that they left him on this planet? He is always drinking water, which was a character trait of the aliens in 'The Faculty' (though water killed the aliens in 'Signs'...maybe this point is neutral). He has extra sensory perception about where I am and what I am doing.
Con: I have always believed that aliens, when and if they touch down on Earth, will be more of the 'E.T.'/'Close Encounters' variety than of the 'Independence Day'/'Invasion of the Body Snatchers' mold.

Is he...Human?
Pro: He has largely human features. He seems to breathe our air. 99% of the meals I've seen him eat consist of foods humans generally eat. He procreated with another human, though I have always found it hard to believe that his two lovely children were biologically his. I have seen, on occasion, Ari show an ability to love.
Con: Despite all the evidence above, no human being I have ever known is as monstrous, venomous, destructive, vindictive, abusive, belittling, dishonest or discourteous as Mr. Ari Gold. If he is, in fact, human, he is a singular member of the species.

What do you think? Could he be something that I missed? Perhaps a time-traveler from a dark, distant future? A shape-shifting Lycan? An undercover agent for a foreign regime intent on breaking the spirit of Hollywood?

Oh, I don't know. But what I do know is, he's one bad entity.

August 9, 2009

Take this job and...I sat myself down and did some serious career counseling. What other positions am I qualified for? (Hold the Ari "wide receiver" jokes.)

August 3, 2009

Hello, dear friends.

I am an educated man. I went to a highly-regarded university and a top business school. I am articulate, proper, professional and well-groomed. I turned down offers from major Wall Street banks, hedge funds, private equity groups and my father, the vintner. Instead, I opted to be, as Ari reminds me ad nauseum, a lowly Hollywood assistant, holding fast to the fading hope that I will one day be a high-powered, in-demand power broker.

While my salary is pennies compared to those offers from the business world, I have acquired several skills I cannot imagine are taught in the financial institutions of New York, London or Hong Kong. Below are just a few of the skills I have unexpectedly acquired while at the Miller/Gold Agency:

• Espionage — Most movie spies are fleet of foot and muscle-strong. They trek to far off locales and they have mastery of various weapons and an innate ability to operate any vehicle on any terrain. I, on the other hand, am neither fleet nor fierce. I have been out of the Pacific Time Zone once since the late 90s. The only weapon I've ever used is a letter opener and I have six points on my license. Despite this, I have evolved into one of the finer spies in the world. Just last week, for instance, I observed and reported the attempted poaching of one of Ari's most important clients by a slimy rival agent at an IHOP in the Valley. Without this information, Ari would not have been able to thwart the attempted poacher, nor would he have been able to alert the town that the rival agent drives a Kia.
  
• Blackmail — Ari has taught me that everybody has something they want to keep under wraps, you just have to look closely. A big-time director refused to consider one of Ari's clients for the lead in his new movie. As soon as said director received photos of him leaving an all-male revue in South Beach, the role of Marvel's newest superhero was being offered to a 5'4" soap opera star.
  
• Intimidation — I've learned that the threat of violence is acceptable in business. And that, occasionally, the threat needs to be carried out. Now, I am not the most violent soul. In fact, I might be the least violent person I know. But, I'll let you in on a little secret: Ari is not a violent person either. He just screams and rants and raves and flips out to give the impression that he will cut your intestines out and feed them to you (that's a direct quote). Perception, I've learned, is 90% of the battle. The other 10% is the will to actually hit a guy when you need to. I'm working on the second part. Maybe I'll get boxing lessons when I'm an agent. If I am ever an agent.
  
• Creative Degradation — Ari has also taught me, through no particular effort on his part, that any English word can be used to create a new and horribly offensive racial or ethnic slur. Here are a few I've come up with on the spot using a random word generator:
  • Random Word: Burger.
    Insult: Ass Burger.
    Used in a sentence: "Hey, I'm going to get some fast food, you want me to bring you back some? Oh, I forgot, they don't have Ass Burgers."
  • Random Word: Extortion.
    Insult: Anal Extortion.
    Used in a Sentence: "Hey Lloyd, Jim here is a lawyer. Maybe he can defend you on those anal extortion charges."
  • Random Word: Swim
    Insult: Semen Swim
    Used in a Sentence: "Lloyd, maybe I'll let you leave early while the sun's still out and you can get in a semen swim."
  • Random Word: Priestess
    Insult: High Priestess of Guy-Intology
    Used in a Sentence: "Lloyd is very religious. In fact, he's the High Priestess in the Church of Guy-Intology. He's gay."

As you can see, it's impossible not to be happy with the residual benefits of my career choice. Who needs money when you can learn to be a monstrous jerk?!

Until next week, this is Jerk-In-Training, Lloyd Lee, signing off.

July 26, 2009

Every day, people ask me, "Lloyd, how do you do it? How do you keep your spirits up in the face of such verbal abuse?" Well, here's the secret to my success - enjoy!

-Lloyd

July 20, 2009

Hi.

That's all I can muster. Six days, 144 grapes. That's all I've had.

Well, it's not all I've had. I've had water, of course. And Diet Coke — no calories there! And celery. You actually burn more calories digesting celery than you consume ingesting it, so that has to be legal. And an In-N-Out Burger. And fries. And an Arnold Palmer. And a free refill.

Have you ever dieted? It is SO HAAARRD. I've done all the right things. I eat on small, dark plates (you feel fuller faster). I make lists detailing why I don't actually want a Choco Taco. I even have put a picture of me in nothing but my skivvies as my Blackberry screen saver as motivation. Still, it's killing me!

And Tom! My mood swings from miserable monster to deathly sloth to hungry hippo! And my sex drive? Nada. Zilch. Perhaps it's because I haven't eaten, and perhaps it is because Ari has made me reconsider what Tom really thinks of my, well, of my body, but I just can't do it.

UGH! I'm not all that out of shape, right? So, I may have put on a few around the midsection, but I prefer to think of it more as an irresistible Buddha Belly than a ghastly Spare Tire. But, dear readers, what if I am more Aretha than Beyoncé?

There's gotta be a better way, right? I could try Atkins, but then I'd be eating nothing other than meat. And as much as I like meat, I've read that it causes one to emit odorous fumes. I know, just gross.

I could go to Weight Watchers. But it seems like such a production. I have to meet with a counselor. And talk about how I got fat and what I'm going to do to get thin. I think you have to wear a name tag talking about how you got fat. Well, at least that's what they did in 'Sex In The City.' Remember, Miranda's was "Baby Weight." Yeah...right...girl. Try "Haagen Dazs." But I digress...

I could vomit. No one really likes to vomit, but many successful, famous people apparently do. Now, supposedly science says it doesn't help you lose weight, but common sense says it does. Still, it feels so Lifetime Movie, right? Like this one movie I saw, with Meredith Baxter-Birney, where she'd attack a dessert tray and then throw up. Oh, it was horrible, she'd like have pudding and frosting all over her face then cry then puke. I almost want to vomit thinking about that movie. All 80's movies sort of make me queasy. So, vomiting is out. Too 80's.

Then, of course, there's liposuction. Everything about liposuction sounds so awesome. You lose all this weight — all this fat — without doing a thing. Considering I despise all forms of physical activity, this is the weight loss solution for me. Except of course for one thing. No one has figured out a reasonable way to solve the loose-skin-problem...And until they find a way to give you liposuction without giving you a skin skirt, I'm not interested.

So, I suppose its grapes for Lloyd. "Grapes for Lloyd." Looks like someone has a new working title for his memoirs!

Ciao!

July 10, 2009

Practice Makes Perfect

I'm taking it to the next level — putting myself on tape, taking a stand, going public...and praying Ari doesn't see this any time soon.

-Lloyd