All for the Art

Originally posted at Brent Corrigan Online.com July 8th,2006


“Umm, Brent?”

“Yeah, Jody?”

“You wanted me to do some weekly updates for you on your blog, right?”

“Yeah. You’re a good writer. I thought it would be cool. Fans would like it. I’d like it. Good for everyone.”

“And you wanted me to do this because you were really busy with launching the new, members only site, right?”

“Hell yes. I’m swamped. There’s models to get, and pictures to take, and pages to do and–.”

“So this is a kind of favor, right? ‘Cause we’re friends?”

“Yeah, Jody. You’re a cool guy.”

“Right, thanks. So are you. If we’re friends, and if I’m doing you a favor, why am I following that post?”

“What post?”

“The really great one about you, your seven and half inch friend, really narrow airplane aisles and how flying brings out your umm…’youthful exuberance?’ How the hell am I, and my rather quiet, laid-back, introspective, writing lifestyle, supposed to compete with testosterone infused, sex drenched prose and pictures that cause orgiastic ecstasy with each and every word? Why, my dear boy, did you do that to me?

“One word: Beach.”

“Did you just call me a —”

“B-E-A-C-H.”

“I’m lost.”

“Remember about, oh, two months ago, at the beach? It was a clear night. You could see the stars. The waves were crashing. There was a roaring fire that lit me sensually. You wandered over ever so close, placed your arm gently on my shoulder and said…”

“‘Nice night?’”

“No! You said “LOOSE THE COAT! MONSTERS DON’T WEAR COATS! I DON’T CARE HOW FUCKING COLD IT IS! LOOSE THE COAT! I WANT ABS! PECS! AND BLOOD! WHERE’S THE BLOOD! GET ME MORE BLOOD ON HIS FACE! DO I HAVE TO DO EVERYTHING ON THIS FILM SHOOT! YOU PEOPLE ARE ALL USELESS! USELESS!!!”

“Oh. Yeah. I did. Say. That.”

“Dude, it was just a student film. You had me half naked on a beach, freezing my nutsack off, while you fiddled with that damn sky crane thing because you wanted the ‘perfect shot.’”

“And your point?”

“That, ‘Why did you do that to me” feeling you have right now? That was me. The other month. On the beach. Almost.”

“But… but… but…”

“You naked right now?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Because if you are, you can get the full effect of my sea-side suffering by taking an ice-cold can of Coke and putting it under your left—”

“Yes! Okay! Alright! I was a mean, petty little directorial dictator! I had you spend hours getting into that monster make up. I had you baking in the sun one moment and freezing your nuts off — wow, that is cold — another! But it was all to get a great performance out of you! I APOLOGIZE ALRIGHT??”

“Hey, I wasn’t looking for an apology.”

“Then… why… all of this… torture.”

“I just wanted the best performance out of you for your first entry on my blog.”

“You really are a piece of work, you know that?”

“A seven and one half inch piece of work, actually.”

“Done?”

“Yes.”

“Happy?”

“Giddy.”

“Good, hand me a blow dryer.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s frozen.”

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