Buster The Blog

Hello NYC!

2012-02-13T00:26:00.000-08:00

So I did it. I left Hollywood, and my post outside of Jimmy Kimmel Live. I took the advice of the Muppets, and traveled by map, all the way to NYC!

Traveling by map wasn't so bad, it was just a little painful turning into a cartoon to do it.

Take my advice, don't turn yourself into a cartoon if you can avoid it. I mean I don't know how Kathie Lee Gifford can stand it! No wonder she is such a lush on The Today Show, hour 17.

I am so excited to land here in the big apple that I almost start Tebowing,

until I see how filthy the streets are, and decide to save my knee from getting a flesh eating disease! Other than that, these New York streets are exhilarating and even seem to glitter! Then again, the glittering could be reflections off of the various fluids that seem to cover every exhilarating sidewalk.

NYC may not be as sunny as Hollywood, and there may be ten times more people rushing around as if they really have somewhere to be, but this is 2012, and I've landed in the Times Square brought to you by Disney, so I know I'm gonna be just fine.

It's so exciting to be here in NYC! It looks just like it does on TV. And let's face it, that is all that matters to me!

I'm here, and I'm ready to begin my New York adventures! Hey maybe I'll start it off right, and swing by the Today Show to grab a drink with Kathie Lee and Hoda Kotb. But Hoda phone, I don't want to get a bad reputation in this town right off the bat. So maybe I'll leave those drunks alone.

This is the greatest city in the world, and there are so many opportunities for me to have a glamorous and sophisticated NY experience! I just wish it wasn't so loud here, or smelled so much like garbage. They say the smog is bad in L.A., but it has nothing on the funky air I'm breathing here in Manhattan.

I'm so ready for a New York experience! Even if it's louder here than a dinner at the Jersey Shore house(smells the same too!)

This city is electric, and I'm ready to take charge!

Yes I made it to the big apple, and I am smitten! Even if it kinda smells like this apple is a little rotten...

Stay tuned friends, to see if this Hollywood chump can make it in the big city!

Love from ~~Hollywood,~~ New York City!

~ buster

Hey! Check out my webseries BUSTER on http://www.youtube.com/user/busterthewebseries

And follow me on Twitter @ http://twitter.com/bustertime

& Facebook @ http://www.facebook.com/pages/Buster/146327185428242?sk=wall !!

So Long Hollywood...

2012-02-01T20:13:00.000-08:00

BUSTER ~ "So Long Hollywood"

That's right, I am fed up with Hollywood, and waiting for Jimmy Kimmel to call! It's been a couple of buster seasons now, and there's only so much waiting around a fella can take! I mean pounding the pavement here on Hollywood Boulevard, I have been exposed to more fake costumed, cheap characters than you find on an Andy Cohen, Real Housewives Reunion Show!

And the more you hang around these characters, the bitchier they get. On the video, I've already mentioned my twitter war with Spongebob, and how I got into it with Tickle Me Elmo.

But I'm a bit embarrassed to even mention the time Batgirl tried to drop kick me, after I told her there's no way that I am going to buy her self produced demo CD! Thank God Catwoman came to my rescue. She's always been my favorite pussy!

Speaking of which, the knock-off Disney Princesses are some fierce bitches! The video shows how Princess Tiana, not only seems to have been eating her feelings... I mean it's gotta be tough being the only black princess, and then they give her a theme song entitled "I'm ALMOST there..." (REALLY Disney?!? You finally have a black princess, but she sings that she's only "almost" there?!) So not only is Tiana pushing the limits of that theory that the camera adds ten pounds (I mean I only had ONE camera on you T!) but she hangs out with a hooker and a StormTrooper, who turns out to be their pimp. And he is scary!

Princess T is not the only knock-off princess to watch out for. Sleeping Beauty approached me one night, asking for a dance, and then she wouldn't let go.

Yeah she tried to kidnap me, with the intent on raping me so she could get pregnant with a Ginger baby. I would've gone along with it, if she didn't smell like pee! The dance turned into a fight for my life. Boy Sleeping Beauty is scrappy! She may have just woken up from a long nap, but she woke up cranky, and smells like she wet the bed!

That reminds me of that guy Leon who plays Captain Jack Sparrow.

He really is a big baby. Seriously. He's a big baby. He has no teeth, he wears a diaper, and the only way to shut him up is to stick a nipple in his mouth! I've grown to hate Thursday afternoons, because that's when I'm scheduled to babysit him... And my nips are SORE!

Needless to say I need a break from this crazy boulevard, and from this waiting game to become a Jimmy Kimmel Live correspondent!

You heard it right in the video, when I said I was gonna go to NYC to become a Big Broadway Star!

I'm hoping that will wake Jimmy up, and he'll take notice.

So now this is So Long Hollywood, and So Long Jimmy Kimmel. I'm about to start a new love affair with NYC... But I'm from L.A, so who knows how long this love affair will last.

Stay tuned friends!

Love from Hollywood, (for now)

~ buster

Sh*t Gingers Say...

2012-01-15T15:47:00.000-08:00

BUSTER ~ "Sh*t Gingers Say"

There's a hot YouTube trend, an Internet Meme if you will, focusing on sh*t different people say. Right now there's a popular video about anything from the sh*t white girls say to black girls, to the sh*t drunk dudes say. Naturally I have to represent the sh*t Gingers say!

It's been documented that redheads make up 1% of the world's population, so I am the 1%! That means I better stear clear of any "occupation demonstration"... I don't really like to work anyway!

Redheads, or Gingas as I like to call us, (please don't pronounce it with the "r", that's offensive) might only make up 1% of the population, but from Ronald McDonald to Conan O'Brien, it's clear that we are a feisty force to be reckoned with!

I'm not gonna lie, the rumors that Gingas have a fiery temper, and are over-sexed are true. By the way "ginga" is a word that only we can use, because we took it back and made it our own. If you call me a "ginger" with the "r" pronounced, you'll see just how fiery my temper really is. And if you're cute, you'll also see how over-sexed I am, when I do you better than you've ever been done before, for the make-up sex!

Enjoy the video, and learn. Learn to be careful of gingerism. Don't ask me if I'm an elf, Keebler or otherwise, be wary of my temper, and if you're hot, look for a nice shady spot for me to share my lucky charms, and share those charms good!... If I've rested I can even do it twice!

Hey, don't call me a promiscuous slut, that'll really piss me off! There's been a recent report that because of low demand for redheads, sperm banks have stopped accepting "donations" from Gingas. My sleeping around is just a way to preserve our redheaded race.... Since the sperm bank won't take my sperm, I'm just making sure that I "donate" the old fashioned way, to as many people as I can!

And if you have a problem with that, I've got two words for you: "Ginga Please!"

Stay tuned to see how I get myself up to the A-list with the likes of Ronald McDonald, and Conan O'Brien... my fellow gingas!

Love from Hollywood,

~ buster

A Hot Steamy New Year

2011-12-25T18:18:00.000-08:00

BUSTER ~ "A Hot Steamy New Year"

Happy New Year everybody! Gosh I can't believe we're already saying goodbye to 2011, and about to ring in the new year-- 2012! If I were to believe in the Mayan calendar, or a bad John Cusack movie... wait that's an oxymoron... I would be nervous about it being 2012. But luckily I'm too much of a positive thinker to let that shrink my sack.

It's my prediction that 2012 is going to be a stellar year for me... and I wish that for all of you, my dear friends. And if you insist on following me everywhere, then go ahead, be bold, and subscribe to busterthewebseries on youtube. And if you're insisting that much on being superfans... tell your friends!

Its easy, just click onto http://www.youtube.com/user/busterthewebseries?feature=g-all-lik, and hit subscribe!

You won't be sorry. And if you like today's webisode, let me know. I'll be sure to show a lot more nudity--or pratfalls, whichever got your attention more ;)

Man I can't believe Christmas has already come and gone. This Christmas season seemed to zoom by faster than a Kardashian wedding!

It seems like I barely had a chance to trim a tree, trim my bush, and hang my copper balls for display!

I was talking about my Christmas wreath balls, you pervs!... Geesh, a guy shows one episode with him taking a shower, and suddenly everything he says is some kind of a double entendre!

Ok, ok, you caught me, I was being a little naughty. But we covered that in the last webisode, "A Very Buster Christmas" when I tried to petition Santa to get off of the "Naughty List"... to no avail.

I may be on the "Naughty List," but I challenge you to find any star on the "A List" who isn't on the "Naughty List"... So according to my calculations, I'm right on track!

In fact, I'm so naughty, I've been voted as honorary chairman of the board of the Naughty List, Hollywood's comedian chapter. Next week, I'm scheduled to have a put-down, bitch fest with Joan Rivers, Kathy Griffin, Chelsea Handler & Joel Mchale!. The supreme, insult bitch trifecta--plus a dick! I'm super excited!!

For now I'm gonna just enjoy the rest of my Christmas Brandy, and stare at my drooping Christmas tree, as I drift off to sleep, dreaming of new ways to Jingle your bells in the coming year.

Happy Holidays everybody! Here's to an amazing New Year, 2012!

Love from Hollywood,

~ buster

A Very Buster Christmas!

2011-12-23T21:50:00.000-08:00

BUSTER ~ "A Very Buster Christmas"

I am so excited!

Through the magic of Hollywood, I have landed myself up at the North Pole.

I am going to petition Santa Claus to get my name off of the Naughty List,

so that I can get a present this year. And that present I want, is a big time TV career!

The North Pole is so cool, I mean it kind of looks like all of those knock-offs at any local mall, but this one has Santa's reindeer!

This is awesome! The whole gang is here!

There's Dasher, and Dancer, and, um, Donald and Nixon... Carter, Bush, wait those were presidents....

Oh yeah, there's Comic, and... Cupid..., No, I think that's wrong, Cupid is from Valentine's Day...

Well I may not know their names, but they're all here! All except the most famous reindeer of all...

Yes Rudolph is missing.

It turns out, that red nose of his wasn't so cute... It was an indication of a raging drinking problem!

He checked himself into the Betty Ford Clinic back in October, and he'll be "drying up" this year. Yeah, one too many DUIs landed him in the drunk tank!

I'm not here to play with reindeer anyway. No, I have an appointment with the big guy himself.

But when I go to his office, he's not even there. He is at a spa facility healing from a tummy tuck!

It turns out he is trying to get into shape for the upcoming pilot season. Everyone wants to be an actor!

The only person I run into is Mrs. Claus...

When I really take a good look at her, I notice it's just an "actress" playing her... And guess who that is? Paris Hilton!

Yeah, it turns out she's old enough to play Mrs. Claus now. The only present she promised me was her time slot on Oxygen, because nobody's watching her show!

Oh boy! It sure is a lot of work trying to get on the Nice List. I think I'll just get back on my magical sleigh, and go back to Hollywood. The gang on the Naughty List is a whole lot more fun anyway!

Now, if I can just remember how to start this magical sleigh...

Merry Christmas everyone!

Love from Hollywood( & the North Pole),

~ buster

Buster at the Urban Music Awards!

2011-12-23T20:32:00.000-08:00

BUSTER ~ "Buster at the Urban Music Awards!

When you're starting out in Hollywood, you can't afford to be too picky about the jobs you'll take. As long as its not porn or working with a Lohan, I'll do it. Hell, I'll even be on a show with the name Kardashian in the title, as long as I don't have to kiss the grandma, Bruce...

So it's with this healthy work ethic, that I find myself "acting" in a Lil Wayne video.

Now its a little known fact, that I have a soft spot in my heart for anyone that has the word "lil" in front of their name.

In high school, I was mad crushing on Lil Kim... But who wasn't?

I mean even Diana Ross couldn't keep her hands off of her lil titties!

Diana, STOP, in the name of love, before you break my heart. Think it oh oh over...

And then there's Lil Jon, who seems so much more approachable because of the "lil"...

Ok, he's still scary... But the "lil" softens the blow a bit.

Lil Romeo was pretty cute...

But then he grew up, and wanted to be taken all seriously. So now he is just "Romeo." Good luck!

And then there's Lil Wayne, who was the smartest of them all, because he hired me to be in his video!

Actually, he thought that he was filming real, homeless hooligans on Hollywood Boulevard... Boy was he mistaken! I'm a legitimate actor, and demand recognition for my work.

I didn't exactly get paid, but he did give me the footage from the shoot. I'm going to put it in my reel! That should give me "street cred."

It's a genius move on his part, because I would have never seen a second of a Lil Wayne video if I wasn't starring in one! Ok, "appearing" in one.

I notice the BMI Urban Music Awards are at the Pantages Theatre! I just know that my stellar work has been nominated, so I crash it.

The crash turns into a bust! They have more security there than the Cruise compound during Gay Pride.

Get this, I'm not even nominated! And without an "official" invite, they toss my "lil" white ass out on the street! Somehow they don't believe my story that I'm a personal friend of Lil Wayne's!

Maybe our paths will cross again. I'm starting to really feel the hip-hop, urban vibe, and might even consider changing my name to Lil Buster... We'll see...

Stay tuned friends, to see if I do any more cool hip hop vids...

Love from Hollywood,

~ (lil) buster

What a Turkey!

2011-12-06T02:32:00.001-08:00

BUSTER ~ "What a Turkey!"

Relationships can be tough, especially in Hollywood! Take my friend Shiela and her boyfriend Tom. Shiela is what they call a cougar,

dating Tom who is a younger man.

Tom, however turns out to be a real turkey!

Yeah, he's been spotted stepping out on Shiela, hanging out with some cute little chicks...

The whole thing is pretty "fowl" if you ask me!

Tom is really pushing it too, because Shiela, being a cougar and all, can be really ferocious! Just wait until her cougar pals get a hold of him...

Now that's sure to get Tom the Turkey more nervous than he is when people start mentioning the word "Thanksgiving!"

Even still, who does Tom think he is, cheating on Shiela? Yes, she may be an older pussy--cat, but they were supposed to be in a relationship. That should mean something! He is such an ass!

Oops! I forgot about my friend Jack, who really is an ass...

Come to think of it, he can be a real Jack-ass too... He's been caught cheating on his girl, with some trollop that has a big ole donkey booty!

Getting back to Tom... Seriously, I don't know who he thinks he is, stepping out on Shiela. I mean, he may be a younger man, but he is no hunk. First of all he is short. And second of all, he has this hideous waddle!

Unfortunately I can understand why Tom would think it would be ok to not take his relationship seriously. All you have to do is take a look at Hollywood. I'm sorry to say it, but my beloved Hollywood is a horrible role model for lasting relationships.

The most famous May/December, older woman/younger man relationship we've had in recent history is Ashton Kutcher and Demi Moore. It looked like they were going to make it, despite their age difference.

Demi became a hero to cougars all over, because she landed a younger husband in Ashton. They seemed to beat all the odds, inspiring copycat couples, like Sheila and Tom.

But alas, it seems May and December are a little too far apart, and May is just too much of a horndog!

Pity Ashton and Demi! If your relationship can't work, what chance do the real folk have. By "real" I mean the Real Housewives. It's a real zoo over there on Bravo!

Meanwhile, the most solid relationship I personally know, is between me and a TV cameras... If they were to make a commitment to me, I would never, ever stray.

Stay tuned to see if I can get a TV camera to pop the question...

Love from Hollywood,

~ buster

He Needs Direction!

2011-11-28T23:20:00.001-08:00

BUSTER ~ "He Needs Direction!"

For my Hair-Brained, Hollywood Scheme this week, I'm going to befriend a powerful director who will naturally be so charmed by me, he or she will share all of his or her Hollywood secrets, and then hire me to act in all of his or her movies!

There is an actual headquarters for Hollywood directors right here in Hollywood! It is called The Directors Guild of America, or if you're really cool, The DGA.

The best part about this is, they seem to let anyone just stroll right on in! It's a sign that my plan will work! This is going to be so easy!

I get all myself all gussied up, put on my most charming face, and saunter up to the receptionist at the DGA. I tell her I'm the star of the hit internet series, buster, and I would like to meet with some top directors.

She is practically giddy with glee, and can't contain her laughter. Poor thing, I've seen this behavior before. People are so impressed with my fame, that being in front of a real star like myself makes them all giggles!

I tell her it's ok, she can take all all the time she needs to compose herself, because I will not leave until she directs me towards some good directors!

Miss receptionist notices the manic seriousness in my eyes, and so scribbles out a list of directors I am "approved" to meet with, along with directions to their locations.

The list has three names on them... However I'm sworn to secrecy, and can't reveal them to even you, my dear readers!

It doesn't really matter, as you'll soon find out...

I'm so excited to learn I'll be meeting the first guy by Warner Brothers Studios!

It doesn't take long for my excitement to turn into disapointment. The guy turns out to be a real stiff! He ignores me the whole time, and just keeps staring at the same shot in his camera! I suppose I can respect his concentration, but his stony indifference to my presence is down right rude!

I mean I got more conversation out of Clint Eastwood last week, when I ran into him at the Katy Perry concert. And even then, he just squinted at me and said, "Go ahead, make my day... You breathe one word of this, and I'll Gran Torino your ass!"

Scary as Clint was, I realize now that I should have taken advantage of running into him and tried to talk to him more, because old stone faced, tall, dark and silent was a real dud!

At least the next director on my list is entertaining!

He's this wacky little fellow, with a megaphone that says "Action" on it. He makes me laugh with the things he says.

See, he's some kind of a Groucho Marx wannabe, and he cracks jokes. He uses the classic on me: "I shot an elephant in my pajamas, how he got in those, I'll never know!" Classic!

But then I realize he may just be a bit delusional.

He tries to tell me that he invented 3D more than 70 years ago! I like his sense of humor though, and I think he likes me... Especially because he's made of copper, and well, my balls are the color of copper. So we relate.

Even still, this "director" is no more help than the first.

Moving on to the third name really hits home that miss DGA receptionist was not exactly on the up and up. The third director on this list, this woman, is just as stoic as the first guy, and yet not even a movie director!

She's a director all right, but she's just a director of the L. Ron Hubbard bookstore on Hollywood Boulevard.

When she tries to get me to simultaneously sign over my future earnings to the Church of Scientology, and go on a secret group date with John Travolta and Tom Cruise, I knew it was time to give up on this meet-the-directors-from-the-DGA-plan!

That receptionist at the DGA just sent me on a wild goose chase!

I'm not upset however. There is always a way to look at the glass as half full. Yes, I got played with, but I feel like my hair-brained, Hollywood scheme of the week paid off, because it gave me a boost of confidence, and a bright idea!

I don't need some two-bit director, I'm gonna pull a Mel Gibson, and direct my own stuff! Yeah, Mel Gibson is a great role model, minus the anti-semitic, "sugar-tits" spewing, abusive, alcoholic part...

Stay tuned friends, to see what other hair-brained Hollywood schemes I come up with, and to see how I "Gibson" myself into a career!

Love from Hollywood,

~ buster

"Kid"ding Around...

2011-11-13T17:19:00.001-08:00

BUSTER ~ "Kidding Around"

It seems to me that Hollywood has turned into a real zoo lately. It's astonishing to see the kinds of animals that people think of as celebrities these days! Like the fact that we are supposed to be Keeping Up With The Kardashians,

and all of their embarrassingly lame spinoff shows. (Notice they're all wearing animal prints...)

Since when is watching glorified home movies of hateful rich people considered entertainment? And for that matter, why are these Kardashians considered "celebrities?" Aren't they only famous because the sister with the big ass, Kim, got peed on in a sex tape by Brandy's brother Ray J?

I think calling these Kardashians animals is an insult to the animals!

Speaking of animals, I recently visited a petting zoo, and found out those "kids" were better behaved, and smelled better than some of the "celebrities" I've been running into in Hollywood!

FYI, "kid" is a term for a small goat. Ironically "goat" is a term that comes to mind when I look at some of those Kardashians.

By the way, it seems to me that the actress playing Jill, in the new Adam Sandler movie, Jack and Jill, looks an awful lot like a feminine version of Khloe Kardashian!

But enough "kidding" around... I need to get "real" for a minute. This Kardashian epidemic is getting way out of hand! It's insulting that TV execs think that we're supposed to stop living our lives, so we can sit in front of the TV to watch this gaggle of raccoon eyed "ladies" live their reality show lives.

And their reality show lives are a far cry from real life.

Take Kim's recent $10 million wedding, which resulted in a marriage that lasted 72 days. Thanks to my trusty calculator, that equals to a cost of $138,888.889 a day to be married to big assed Kim Kardashian!

I thought we were supposed to be in a major recession. Seventy-two days after a ten million dollar wedding, and she files for divorce. Not to mention the allegations that she EARNED about $17 million to promote and air the wedding on TV.

So she EARNS $17 million to get married, and 72 days later she files for a divorce! And yet some people have the audacity to say that Gays should not have the right to get married, because THAT would ruin the sanctity of marriage!

I'm so disgusted thinking about these Kardashian animals, I might just lose my (animal) cookies. I just want to puke.

I think I need to stop talking about those animals for a minute, and gain my composure. I don't even have the energy to broach the subject of their disgusting, sycophant "momager" Kris Jenner,
or her withered, Old Lady husband Bruce!

I'll save those stories for another day.

For now, I want to get back to my goat kid friends, Billy, Bahhhhbara, and the gang at the petting zoo.

At least things with the goats are civilized, unlike the zoo that is Hollywood Reality TV.

And let's face it, its just so much nicer to Keep Up with a cute billy goat, than a cow-like Kardashian.

Love from Hollywood,

~ buster

Partying on Tatooine...

2011-11-07T08:46:00.000-08:00

BUSTER ~ "Partying on Tatooine"

Sometimes living in the land of make-believe can be a bit too surreal. I had the good fortune of running into Carrie Fisher recently at a Barnes and Noble, where I caught her putting copies of her books, Wishful Drinking

and Shockaholic

on the "Best Sellers" table.

Not one to miss a networking opportunity, I jump right in and help Carrie unethically place her books amidst the real current bestsellers. She appreciates the help so much that she invites me back to her place for an impromptu Hollywood party.

This is awesome! Carrie may not drink anymore, but that girl really knows how to let her hair down from those buns,

and really party! I'm having so much fun, despite the fact that her mother, Debbie Reynolds, keeps trying to get me to buy some of her crap,

Like the headdress that Elizabeth Taylor wore in the movie, Cleopatra,

and Marilyn Monroe's dress from The Seven Year Itch.

I have to tell Debbie to lay off... I barely have money for rent, let alone priceless movie artifacts. And besides, I wouldn't know what to do with Marilyn's dress. I was interested in how sexy Marilyn looked wearing the dress more than the actual dress.

That Debbie is relentless though... No wonder her daughter is wishing she could still be drinking... (Sorry Debbie!)

The party really starts getting under way. And Carrie may not drink anymore, but she sure serves it up! Pretty soon all kinds of celebrity friends are stopping by, and I am having a blast.

Gwyneth is there for a while, and we're getting along, until I screw it up, by being a bit too friendly... I tell her that I think she is very talented, that she can do most anything... except name kids. I mean she named her kids Apple and Moses for goodness sake. Well, she slaps me, and I don't think we'll be talking for a while. I blame the alcohol.

That doesn't stop me from drinking however. I think Carrie's enjoying watching an Irishman drink it up in front of her.

Gwyneth Paltrow isn't the only blonde girl I offend that night. The other one is Carson Kressley, fresh off of his stint on Dancing With the Stars.

Well Carson tries to get fresh with me, but I tell him that I may be drunk, but not that drunk! Miss thing does not like that!

The last thing I clearly remember about that night, is talking to Carrie about the success of her first book, Wishful Drinking, ironically while I keep swinging the drinks back. The highlight of the conversation is learning that she adapted the book into a successful stage play, and even brought it to Broadway!!

That's when Carrie says I should stop screwing around in Hollywood and I should do some legitimate theatre in New York. And then she gives me that serious Leia look.

You never know, I might just take Princess Leia's advise to heart...

In the meantime, I wake up after that night of debauchery, ready to do my walk of shame, and walk out the door into what looks like the planet Tatooine from Star Wars... What exactly was in those drinks?!

Ever ready to make the most of an opportunity, I decide that if I'm on Tatooine, then I'm gonna find that bar with the snakey, blue, four-tittied bitches, and grab a drink. The best cure for this hangover, is a little Star Wars, "hair of the dog!"

Stay tuned friends, to see if I get off the planet Tatooine, if I take Carrie Fisher's advise seriously, and if I consider trying the NY Broadway theatre scene!

For now:

Love from Hollywood (via Tatooine),

~ buster

SCARILY-SKINNY-CELEBRITIES!

2011-10-30T18:50:00.000-07:00

BUSTER ~ "SCARILY-SKINNY-CELEBRITIES!"

It's Halloween in Hollywood, and the scariest thing I've seen today, is celebrity stylist Rachel Zoe running around in a bikini!

Apparently the only accessory she wants to wear on her skeleton is a lightweight, thinly chic coat of skin! I was excited to go on a ride along with her this morning on a shopping spree, until she started giving me guff about the fact that I fill out my sweater in places she can only dream of.

Seriously, this skin and bones look she's going for is so "bananas," as she likes to say. Speaking of her catch phrases, I feel like pointing out that her saying "I die" is almost a self fulfilling prophecy. Rachel, honey, eat a cookie!

But she's just on trend with a lot of these gals I see here in Hollywood.

First of all, they'd never admit that they have an eating disorder. The trendy excuse is that they have "fast metabolisms."

Riiiiight. And I'm the Queen of England.

Speaking of English queens, I ran into Victoria Beckham this afternoon, and it looked like she stepped out of The Nightmare Before Christmas!!!

She told me I that looked "major" but she couldn't stay because she was having lunch with her new buddy Lean Rimes. What are they gonna "eat" for lunch? An ice chip?

Apparantly Posh Spice is helping Lean get into "bikini shape", because she saw how sexy Nicole Richie looks and wants to get that hot "droopy look" that seems to be all the rage!

Even the Queen seems to be trying the Bend-it-Like-Beckham-Posh-Spice, starvation diet which entails looking at food as a terrifying threat,

and thinking that looking like a skeletal corpse is beautiful and chic!

I'm terrified guys!

Living amongst these walking skeletons in Hollywood, these Scarily-Skinny-Celebrities, is not for the faint of heart!

You want a big scare this Halloween? Forget about going to see Paranormal Activity 3. Just go to lunch in Beverly Hills, order dessert, and watch all the venomous/HUNGRY stares you get from these corpses... excuse me ladies!

Happy Halloween friends! And please, eat some candy!

Love from Hollywood,

~ buster

Pumpkin Head!

2011-10-24T01:08:00.000-07:00

BUSTER ~ "Pumpkin Head!"

It seems that when people reach a certain age, everything on their person tends to expand. I call this phenomenon getting a "pumpkin head." So you can imagine the horror my 25 year old friend Chuck feels when people call him a pumpkin head.

I mean, its true that at a certain angle he resembles a bit of a pumpkin head, but I'm not about to point it out to my buddy Chuck. The fact that he spray tans himself to a Snookie Orange doesn't help the situation.

By the way, Snookie's roommate, Mike Sorrentino "The Situation" happens to be an orange pumpkin head himself!

It must be something in the waters of the Jersey Shore...

The "Sitch" has decent abs though... My poor friend Chuck doesn't have a six pack situation, or even a Snookie "bumpit,"

he just has a big, old, orange, pumpkin head!

Lately he's been really down because of it. I try to tell him to not feel so down. Instead of feeling down, he should feel Up Chuck!

Speaking of up-chuck, just the thought of myself aging and my own head expanding makes me want to puke! But the only other option is to fight it with the best of them here in Hollywood, by starving myself, nipping, tucking, plucking and injecting.

The thing is, if you nip, tuck, pluck, and inject too much, you end up looking like a pumpkin head anyway!

I mean, at what point did this... lady(?) lose touch with reality? I don't care how ugly she thought she was before, it couldn't have been scarier than this end result. And I'll bet donuts to dollars that she hasn't stopped with the plastic surgery. She'll keep altering herself until she's more artificial than the dialogue on any Bravo "reality" show!

Speaking of reality, Chuck has a special needs cousin, Cooper, who really is a pumpkin head!

Cooper doesn't seem to mind being a big old pumpkin head. We could all learn a lesson from special little Cooper. That lesson is to be proud of who you are. If you're a pumpkin head, or become a pumpkin head, be a proud pumpkin head. Be real. Be yourself. Don't try to alter yourself or fight aging with crazy plastic surgery.

Surgically created Pumpkin Head!

And for goodness sake, don't confuse reality shows (i.e. Jersey Shore) with reality!

Because we all know Snookie is no more "real" than that fake ass pumpkin I'm standing in front of!

Happy Halloween pumpkin heads!

Love from Hollywood,

~ buster

Looney & Lonely at Warner Bros...

2011-10-17T01:48:00.000-07:00

BUSTER ~ "Looney & Lonely at Warner Bros"

This week my favorite studio is Warner Brothers!

It's a beautiful studio lot, nestled in the hills of Burbank, and has produced a ton of my favorite movies, cartoons, and TV shows.

I may just be Looney Tunes,

but I feel a connection to Warner Brothers.

I have a Daffy idea

that if I can get on the Warner Brothers lot, then maybe I can stumble upon a job on TV!

It turns out that it's not so hard to get on the Warner Brother's lot... You just need to buy a pass for the tour!

The thing is I don't like to play tourist. I'm a professional here, and it Bugs me

to have to sit with non-professionals getting the "safe" tour. I want the real nitty-gritty. I need to get myself away from this tour group asap, so I can get into a real Warner Brother's production!

But first, I need to eat. They serve lunch at the WB Cafe, where I order the Wabbit, served on a bed of carrots, a delicious dish named the Elmer Fudd.

This guy next to me, is a real Porky Pig,

and has two helpings!

I find the dish to be a bit spicy, and it makes my tongue swell. I hatch a plan to break away from the group, but now I sound like Tweety Bird.

Nonplussed, I tell the gal sitting next to me that I "thought I taw a puddy tat"

And I make like a cross between Road Runner,

and Speedy Gonzales,

and scram away from the tour!

Now I'm free to scout the Warner Brothers lot on my own!

That's when I discover how lonely it can be when you break away from the crowd.

I find myself wandering around a deserted backlot. Its pretty cool at first, but the silence is deafening. Sitting on the stoops of the facade of a brownstone, on an empty "New York Street," makes me feel like I'm in some eerie Sci-fi movie.

I'm hoping Marvin the Martian will show up to give me some company!

Marvin doesn't. But I do finally run into someone. I run right into a rent-a-cop, who acts like Yosemite Sam,

and tries to rent-a-cop-arrest me for going rogue and running off on my own! This dude treats me like I 'm the Tazmanian Devil or something!

He drags me back to the tour guide, who on a second look, reminds me of Foghorn Leghorn.

Foghorn Leghorn tells me: "Boy you've got more nerve than a bum tooth! Now looka, I say looka here, no more runnin off on ya own, or you'll be 86'd from this here studio lot. "

I don't argue. I don't want to cause any more trouble for myself. I'm not a fighter. I'm more of a lover. Like Pepe Le Pew.

Speaking of "Le Pew," that "wabbit" dish is starting to disagree with my tummy, and I need to take care of some business... I think it's time to wrap up this looney and lonely tour of Warner Brothers.

For now...

Love from Hollywood,

~ buster

Can He Get It Up?...

2011-10-15T03:51:00.000-07:00

BUSTER ~ "Can He Get It Up?"

When it comes to my constant struggle here in Hollywood, the odds can make me feel down right impotent. It seems that the powers that be can only think of a handful of performers to hire. Not only does this elite few get all the acting jobs, but they seem to be the only ones who can endorse our products.

We're supposed to buy L'Oreal Feria Hair Color, because Beyonce whips her dyed weave back and forth.

Please! Beyonce may be beautiful and talented, but her hair should neither be blonde nor whip-able.

You can't walk down the street in Hollywood without tripping on at least three blonde, out of work actresses. I'm talking about blonde hair with actual follicles, and has not been sewn on. So why is Beyonce the choice to sell blonde hair color?

Justin Bieber supposedly designed a line of nail polish for OPI. It's called One Less Lonely Girl Collection, and it has me thoroughly confused. Is he the "one less lonely girl" now that he has teamed up with OPI?

He is a sixteen year old boy, why is he endorsing nail polish? Doesn't he make enough money as a performer? By the way, when I was sixteen, the only income I had was called "lunch money."

Then there is Jennifer Lopez. Not only has she taken time away from her illustrious careers as "movie star" and "singer" to be an American Idol judge, but she is endorsing everything from her own clothing line, The Jennifer Lopez Collection at Kohl's, to L'Oreal Hair Color, a high-end jewelry from Tous, and Fiat Autos.

That Fiat commercial of hers is so over-exposed and embarrassing, it's hard to take seriously. Those "mom shorts" she is wearing in the commercial are just sad, but no doubt from her own Kohl's collection.

I just think that commercial stinks.

I'd say that J-Lo Fiated.

By the way, Jenny from the block has reportedly made, so far, $25 million, as a judge on American Idol. That's not even her main career!

Good for her. But I still don't know why she has to be the face of so many endorsement deals. She's obviously not hurting for money.

I certainly could use some endorsement funds! I'd love to be the face of anything, even nail polish. Yeah that's right Biebs, you're not the only cock who can cluck in that OPI hen house! Give me a chance.

I need a job.

My "lunch money" days are long gone. I don't even get an allowance anymore!

I need to counteract this impotent feeling from not being able to get my career on the rise, so I decide to go see my good friend Benny.

If you recall, Benny has a collection of spaceships, that he's let me borrow: BUSTER ~ "Crashing Benny's Spaceships."

Unfortunately I never seem to return them in the same condition as I get them, so Benny is a little hesitant to help me out.

I tell him how I'm feeling down about waiting for my big break, and watching the same people get all the Hollywood jobs over and over again. He's just like me, in that when we feel down, we want to fly something to clear our heads. He sees how desperate I am to get something up. If I can't get my career soaring, then at least an aircraft can raise my spirits and put some zip in my pants!

But he tells me that I'm an animal with those spaceships.

I think he may be teasing me because of the t-shirt I'm wearing.

Hey I love the Muppets, and can't wait for their new movie to come out! (A movie that I would've LOVED to work on!) Animal and Scooter are my favorite characters. I think it has to do with them also being redheads...

So Benny doesn't want me near his spaceships, but he thinks I'll do fine with something more simple, like our friend Howard Hughes' propeller plane.

Howard doesn't mind me taking his plane for a spin. He's busy growing out his fingernails, and hiding in his mansion.

He does insist that I borrow his goggles. He may be a long fingernailed freak, but he believes that safety comes first.

The only problem is, I can't see a thing in those old goggles! I end up crashing, and "total" his plane.
It's a good thing he has insurance.

Even if I crashed, that thrill ride does the trick. It really lifts my spirits! But I think I'll stick to driving on the ground for a while.

Coincidentally, I think I spot J-Lo driving by in a cute little car...

Pee-ew! Did she just Fiat?!

Stay tuned kids, as I chronicle my adventures in Hollywood... Continue to get it up... And keep it up!

Love from Hollywood,

~ buster

I'm Just a Guy Who Likes a Girl's Box...

2011-10-07T23:35:00.000-07:00

BUSTER ~ "Elise's Box"

There is a lot of really important news going on in the world. There is debate after debate for the Republican party as candidates throw their hats into the ring. Protestors are occupying Wall Street, because enough is enough with this criminal economy. And sadly Steve Jobs lost his battle with cancer, leaving the world way too soon at 56 years old. He was a brilliant innovator who changed the world. Our country is suffering from ridiculously high unemployment, but it's downright devastating losing this Job(s).

Republican candidates, Wall Street, unemployment, Jobs,

All I want, is to enjoy my girlfriend Elise's box. She recently invited me to the Hollywood Bowl to watch a star studded, concert production of Hairspray. She very generously let me enjoy her comfy box at the bowl.

I was so excited to enjoy a night out at the Hollywood Bowl. It's a magical place, beautifully set in the Hollywood Hills, under the stars. I love the show Hairspray, so I knew it would be a good time.

Making the night even better, Elise brought a picnic style dinner she made for us. There's nothing like eating out with Elise. As I chowed down on her spicy taco, I thought to myself, "this is a good friend." She even shared her melons, a nice mixture of juicy cantalope and watermelon. They were the juiciest melons I've had all summer! To top it all off, she had a bulging basket of fresh muffins! I almost couldn't wait to be finished eating the taco, so I could get to that warm buttery muffin she had waiting for me.

The night was just perfect, until I remembered that Elise has a few odd quirks. For one, I noticed she has a dairy obsession, and asked an usher if he would squirt cream all over her taco, and then her muffin... Gross.

Then I noticed she kept playing with something under the table, and shoving food down there. That's when she explained that she was feeding her pussy. She smuggled her hungry little kitty into the bowl, and was feeding it all through dinner.

That's my friend Elise. I know she is sweet and generous, sharing her beautiful box with me at the bowl, but she is entirely too attached to her kitty cat. She takes her pussy with her wherever she goes, and is always petting it! It can be embarrassing!

An over fondness with her little kitty may be embarrassing, but one quality of hers that really gets on my nerves is how nonchalant she can be with who comes in her box. She'll share it with anyone!

I love that she is generous, and I wouldn't get the chance to see Hairspray if she wasn't, but I wish she wasn't SO generous. I wasn't the only guy she fit into her box that night.

Some other guy showed up after dinner. He was brash and rude, and changed the tone of the party. Not even her pussy cat seemed to like him. The kitty bit his finger! But he didn't even flinch.

I told him he was late and missed dinner. There wasn't a taco or melon left for him. Even though it was his own fault being late, Elise felt bad, and ordered him a roast beef sandwich. The guy slurped it up in two bites!

Not wanting to ruin my night, I decided to just go with the flow and enjoy being at the bowl, even if Elise's box was now overcrowded.

I was excited to see all the stars perform under the stars. Elise told me that TV's Uncle Jesse was playing Corny Collins! I didn't even know that old guy from the Dukes of Hazard was still acting!

Imagine my surprise when Denver Pyle didn't show, but John Stamos stepped out on stage! I forgot that Stamos also played "Uncle Jesse" to those little billion dollar troll dolls.

The Olsen Twins

The show was great. Stamos was great. It's fitting that a guy who made a career obsessing over his awesome hair, should star in a musical about hairspray!

We ended up having a wonderful night. In fact having all those people in Elise's box made it nice and cozy.

When the show ended, we were all hungry again, and thought about getting a late night snack.

That's when Elise suggested we try some sushi...

Love from Hollywood,

~ buster

Hollywood or Bust!

2011-10-07T20:59:00.000-07:00

BUSTER ~ "Hollywood or Bust!"

It's my dream to be on the boob tube. I've been pounding the pavement here in Hollywood listening to any titbit I can learn, to catch my big break. If it takes checking under every boulder or twisting every knob and knocker in town till I get discovered, I'm willing to do it.

Admittedly, fame can be a lonely hill to climb. You have to be your own cheerleader, shaking your own pom-poms, and going "ra-ra!"

There's something else I have to get off my chest... I was recently sitting at Hooters, snacking on a chicken breast sandwhich, when I really opened my peepers and took a discerning look at the people that populate tinseltown.

Fake.

Plastic.

Augmented.

And these words describe the mannequins in the windows of the slutty shops on Hollywood Boulevard.

The people are much worse!

It's fascinating to see that even the mannequins have unrealistically large tatas. They have to fill the tops that are built to fit the real life, (fake) fun bags bouncing around on the women of Hollywood.

This got me thinking about the hot button issue of those huge, fake jugs in Hollywood. I decided to turn my head lights onto the subject.

The first question I have, is: where did this obsession come from where women want to augment their melons? I mean Dolly Parton, Pam Anderson and all their fun bags followers didn't just balloon up out of nowhere.

Or did they?

Did women's obsession with augmentation come from men's demand for big boobs, or did men demand more big boobs after seeing an eruption of women with huge torpedoes, wanting to fill bigger over the shoulder boulder holders?!

It's kind of like the old adage, "which came first, the chicken or the egg?"

I'll bet the one that came first was the one who caught a glimpse of Pam Anderson running down the beach slo-mo, in her Baywatch swimsuit!

Whichever came first, the fact is that women in Hollywood keep getting implants for bigger bazooms, and the men keep encouraging them.

It certainly makes the storefronts on Hollywood Boulevard fun to window shop!

It must be an experience for a midwestern tourist, walking the famous Hollywood Walk of Fame, and having to shield little eleven year old Josh's eyes from the bare honkers on the mannequins in the window of The Bizzy B.

Then again, those tourists should know by now what they're getting into when they come to Hollywood. After all, this is the place where dad can stop in and get his very own "Hollywood Hookah" while mom continues down the way with little Josh and Jenny to see a Disney show at the El Capitan theatre!

I love this town!

Speaking of the naked knockers in the window of The Bizzy B... I can't help myself, being the competitive actor, and attention whore that I am, I just had to show that mannequin that I'm equipped with a nice set of tits myself... And mine are 100% real baby, made from good old pushups!

Let's see if they can help me get a job...

Love from Hollywood,

~ buster

Big Emmy Dreams!

2011-10-07T02:23:00.000-07:00

BUSTER ~ "Big Emmy Dreams"

The 63rd Primetime Emmy Awards came to town, and I was determined to not miss them! I'm much more savvy about Hollywood's big night, than I was at last year's Oscars: Buster Goes to the Oscars!

This time I got my own tuxedo, instead of borrowing one from a dead guy. Well actually, my friend Anderson Cooper gave me one of his hand-me-downs. I visited him recently, and that tuxedo was the only thing I could convince him to come out of the closet.

My invite to the Emmy's came out of my monthly meeting of the Big Reds. Big Reds is a top secret, underground organization I belong to, for highly talented and beautiful gingers. I got in on looks alone. The selection committee said to not even bother with my talent. To me that means I'm too talented to be tested...

I love our logo:

Last week, we were celebrating Lucille Ball's 100th birthday. Over carrot cake, I congratulated Conan and Christina Hendricks each on their Emmy nominations. Their nominations are crucial to our cause. This recessive redhead gene we carry is verging on world extinction. We need to be represented and win as many awards as possible! Hell, I'll even accept David Caruso as a representative, because he's a ginger who has managed to stay famous. Even if he is a hot head.

Conan was so thankful for my praise, he invited me to the Emmys to be his seat filler, and I got to see the show in person!

Christina was thankful too. Even more, she was impressed that I happened to be as "busty" as her. (Let's face it, we both have a nice set of tits!) Check out: BUSTER ~ "Hollywood or Bust!"

Above is a picture of Christina at the Golden Globes last year. That thing that looks like an animal on her shoulder belongs to Nic Cage. -- It fell off of his head when he hugged her hello. It's his "movie star" idea of a natural looking toupee...

By the way, Christina Hendricks may be going to the Emmys this year, but she's bringing the "Golden Globes" da-yam!

This is much to the delight of Emmy host, Jane Lynch! I overheard Jane talking about Christina, and she must be some sort of a seamstress as well as an actress and Emmy host, because Jane told her friend that checking out Christina squeezed into her tight dress, makes her want to "scissor her."

Getting to see the awards show live, I got to witness and hear all kinds of cool things like that! Jane is a hilarious host!

Jane may just be an actress who is funny, but I tell ya, I'm sure she could "lick" any of those professional lady comics.

It takes some big balls to host television's biggest night, especially when her own "Gleeky" performance is nominated for Best Supporting Actress. She's got the big balls to pull it off. I took a look at the bulge in her tuxedo pants, and not only was I impressed, but I developed an inferiority complex! I swear Jane towers over six feet! That dude has it all; looks, talent, and height!

Not to mention, I overheard Portia tell Ellen she noticed Jane has thick fingers... In dyke talk, that means she's well hung!

The show was awesome! Unfortunately Jane didn't win in her acting category, which made me a little scared of her... I could hear myself apologizing to her for having a penis, and praying that she wouldn't throw a Glee slushie in my face!

I think she was hungry after all that hosting, because she said she couldn't wait to see her wife, and "eat out"...

I was hungry too, and tired. That "seat filling" gig wasn't as glamorous as Conan had made it sound. I realized I didn't have an invite to any of the after parties, so I decided to walk home. That's ok, I'm cooler than those "Hollywood Squares" anyway!

On the walk home, I visualized winning my own Emmy. I think I should be nominated with Ryan Seacrest for Outstanding Reality Host, because the crap he hosts is not reality. Me pounding pavement on Hollywood Boulevard, interviewing the Purple Ladies, waiting on my agent to call, peeing in the pool -- that's reality!

I thought about the Emmy I want to win, and I feel it should be larger than life. I want one of the size and stature of Mr. Jane Lynch.

Even better, I want one that I can move into when times are tough. Something practical. At least then, it'll serve for more than just anal penetration.

Jane, you and your "well hung" fingers can eat your heart out! -- Love ya!

Stay tuned friends... Just wait and see me win my Emmy, and win BIG!

Love from Hollywood,

~ buster

Winning!...?....!

2011-09-19T12:36:00.000-07:00

BUSTER ~ "Winning!"

Every once in a while, I have to stop chasing fame long enough to realize that I also should be chasing money. I need a job. Plus side: when I do start getting acting/hosting/comedy jobs, the by-product is fame! The catch: to get work I need an agent or manager sending me on auditions.

I don't like to pay that much attention to sociopolitical issues, but even I can't ignore the fact that with this sucky economy, the job market is grim. We're heading into an election year, and it looks like there's a battle brewing in the capital.

I happened to catch the Republican Debate recently, and can sum it up with the same two words to describe Michele Bachmann's hair: Dry and Demented.

That is only the beginning of all this election hooey. To channel Bette Davis, my message to the country is to "Fasten your seatbelts. It's going to be a bumpy night." That "night" is gonna last until November!

Enough about politics. Time to get back to my favorite subject, me. I desperately need an agent. I desperately need a job. Desperation doesn't look good on me.

Persperation looks good on me:

Desperation does not!:

I try to not let it get to me. I'm certainly working my ass off to land an agent or manager. I do my research. I'm reading all the "trades" to bone up on all things Hollywood. A friend of mine gets The Hollywood Reporter which is pretty informative, but I like the pictures in Entertainment Weekly a little better. I like to do thorough research on Hollywood, so I find the best way to Keep up with the Kardashians, is if I also read Star Magazine.

See, after I do all that reading my day is pretty much filled. When you factor in working out, I barely have time for a social life! Something has to give. I'm steadfastly waiting by the phone for an agent to call and bring me work. Preferably work that's on TV, and with hours that do not interfere with my workout schedule.

All of this waiting, and lack of funds can be depressing, but I'm not the depressive type. Besides, worrying can age you!

I make the most out of my time, by hanging out at the pool of my friend Giovanni's estate. Well, it's not really Giovanni's estate. He's the dogsitter. He lets me sneak in and enjoy the pool, while the owner is away.

Listen, you have to do whatever it takes to remind yourself that you're a winner, even when you're bank account seems to snigger at you.

Some people may call me delusional. I like to think of it as being optimistic. Confidence is sexy, and I'm nothing if not sexy.

Perhaps I have a little Tiger Blood coursing through my over-confident veins.

As always, I look to Hollywood for answers, and in dealing with this unemployment problem, I think about that Warlock Charlie Sheen to see how he dealt with being unemployed.

I mean this guy took enough cocaine to kill Two and a Half Men! (pun totally intended!) He ended up getting publicly dumped. But that didn't stop him from living it up!

The show survived. Now they replaced him, bringing in Ashton Kutcher to be their savior. Playing up his savior role, Mr. Kutcher has even grown out his hair to look like Jesus.

He looks a lot like my frenemy "Hay-Zeus", who I recently ran into:

BUSTER ~ "Scooby Snacks with Jesus"

Terrific. Ashton is talented and super cool, but if he does save Two and a Half Men, he may get a God complex.

Then again, I'm inadvisably taking example from a washed up, ego-maniacal, self professed tiger blooded "Warlock."

I can't help it. I love his catch phrase: "WINNING!"

That's how I choose to look at my life. I am winning! Money and fame will come. In the meantime, I'm gonna keep smiling, and know that I'm a clever redhead who gets to play around in Hollywood!

So no more scared face:

It's back to smiling:

I've got to get back to work. I have two more articles in EW to read, before the season premiere of Two and a Half Men comes on tonight, with the new messiah, Ashton K.

Have a Winning week my friends!

Love from Hollywood,

~ buster

Scooby Snacks with Jesus...

2011-09-05T13:53:00.000-07:00

BUSTER ~ "Scooby Snacks with Jesus"

The stakes have been raised. I got a celebrity interview with the cheeky Bruce Vilanch, and now I am hard up to continue this saucy streak of getting close to Hollywood's inner sanctum. In Hollywood, it's not what you know, it's who you know. I want people reading Star Magazine to think they know me, as I fill the pages with pictures of me in curlers sitting outside my trailor on the set of my TV show, or of me shopping for organic grapes at Whole Foods, in the section titled, Stars, they're just like us... For the masses to feel like they "know" me, I have to get to "know" more and more celebrities who can help me get on TV.

All of this career strategizing gets me hungry, so I go to get a Skooby Snack. There's this great cafe on Hollywood Boulevard, called Skooby's, and man do they have some good food!

My mouth is watering, I can't wait for my Skooby Snack! Just when I'm about to step up to order, I run smack dab into my old friend Jesus! "Jinkies, I didn't recognize you in this nightgown, Hay-Zeus"

He just glares at me behind all his long hair, because I pronounced his name the way he used to be known, as "Hay-Zeus." When I met Hay-Zeus, he was selling bogus "maps to the stars homes" in front of Grauman's Chinese Theatre. He was just some guy from Whittier, CA, dealing with the trials and tribulations of life in LA. He shared a one bedroom bungalow by Sunset Gower Studios, with his four buddies, Matthew, Mark, Luke and John.

He was a cool guy too, always had something uplifting to say. In fact, the gang around the neighborhood thought he practically walked on water. That is until last winter, when he decided to grow out his beard, and then made the age old Hollywood mistake. He began to believe his own press.

With his beard, and long hair, he kept getting comparisons to two, famously polarizing personalities, Russel Brand and Jesus Christ.

Obviously, NO ONE wants to be compared to the guy who chose Katy Perry as his beard. So Hay-Zeus, got himself a burlap nightshirt, and started making people call him "Jesus."

He got out of the "star maps" game, and went straight into accepting donations from tourists wanting a picture with him. His "holier than thou" attitude got to be insufferable! Just try to sit through his story of how he survived 40 days and 40 nights without cable. Now he thinks you'll live a more fulfilled life without TV. Imagine that!

So here we are, the two of us at Skooby's. I know I was looking for a celebrity to top Bruce Vilanch, but JC is maybe a bit too famous. Besides this guy is an imposter! If I were to try and say I got an interview with Jesus, I'd lose all the credibility I've worked so hard to build up. Zoinks! I'd never be able to pull of a swindle like that. The Skooby Gang would come in and bust me, pull off Jesus' rubber mask, and reveal the real "Hay-Zeus." I'd have to reply with " I would have gotten away with it, too, if it weren't for you meddling kids!"

Hay-Zeus doesn't like me now, anyway. He can't stand that I still pronounce his name the old way. The tension in that Skooby Shack is so thick, I can barely breathe. I had to ask myself "WWJD" and the answer was, let Hay-Zeus have the space, and then get a Skooby Snack later. The guilt of getting into a fight with even an imposter Jesus, is too heavy a cross to carry.

I do the Christian thing and step outside. That doesn't stop Hay-Zeus from smiting me with his words as I go!

If you notice on the video "Scooby Snacks with Jesus", when he walks out, Hay-Zeus throws me the evil eye. What a dick!

That's ok, I still have friends in high places. And I'll still get by with his blessing or not.

Stay tuned to see what celebrities I'm blessed with meeting as my fame ascents...

Love from Hollywood,

~ buster

Fox Michaels, Bruce Vilanch, Buster "Company"...

2011-08-29T15:57:00.000-07:00

BUSTER ~ "Buster, AKA Fox Michaels interviews Bruce Vilanch!"

Hey friends, welcome back! I took a little time off for the summer to enjoy sort of a hiatus after Season One of "Buster" wrapped. I hope you all have had a chance to enjoy your summer, and take a little vacation. Unfortunately I couldn't go anywhere. Being an unemployed actor in this current economy limits my recreational options. Money is tight. I end up just filling my days with exercise and walking around Hollywood Boulevard. Speaking of tight, I may only have a quarter to my name, but you can bounce that quarter off of my ass! Anyone who's walked behind me up a flight of stairs, can tell that I'm addicted to squats.

It hasn't been so bad being stuck in Hollywood. Looking around at all the folks with their fanny packs:

and bad, un-hipster retro fashion, like capri pants (on the men!):

"Manpris"

not to mention the ultimate faux pas, socks with sandals:

clearly indicate that I'm smack dab in the middle of a major tourist attraction: Hollywood Boulevard!

So even though I didn't get to go on vacation, I am living in a dream destination for the (badly dressed) masses.

But enough about my summer "staycation." While I've just been laying low, doing squats and lunges, tons of major news stories and developments have happened in the world.

I'm talking about the important news events, like the report that Will and Jada Pinkett Smith have split after 13 years, which makes me so sad to see another gay marriage fail!

How about the foreboding news about the arrival of Hurricane Irene on the Eastern Seaboard? Fortunately it turned out to be more overrated than anything with the name James Franco attached.

The point is, these stories were major, but I was busy sitting on my well developed haunches. I did need a rest, but I need a career even more. I've got to be ready to interview and commentate on important news if I'm going to be discovered by Jimmy Kimmel Live as an entertainment correspondent. Yes, I've decided that in addition to pursuing acting and comedy, my natural talent as an interviewer should also be explored and exposed. It would be an honor to be taken seriously as a commentator. I'd love to be discovered as the new Anderson Cooper, or even Ryan Seacrest. Hey, there's enough room in that closet for the three of us!

And then opportunity strikes...

Almost immediately my Irish luck pays off. I get a chance to interview my first celebrity!

Grauman's Chinese Theatre is hosting a screening of Stephen Sondheim's Company starring Neil Patrick Harris and a cast of stars! So of course I sneak in to watch it. I'm a sucker for Broadway shows, and watching a filmed version of Company on a famous hollywood movie screen, sounds like a wet dream to my thespian heart!

There's a girl at the ticket booth of Grauman's that I flirt with by complimenting her good eye. In return, she let's her wandering eye look the other way, as I sneak in to watch the movie.
By "wandering eye", I don't mean she's pulling a Jude Law, being unable to remain faithful. I mean the girl literally has an eye that wants to look the other way:

The irony is that her parents named her Iris! She's a real doll, even a bit of a looker... I'm grateful that she sneaks me in to the movie for free!

Boy do I have a lot to thank Iris for! Not only is Company fantastic, but the company I get in the theatre sitting next to me, is a broadway star in his own right, Bruce Vilanch!

At first I think I'm sitting next to some fabulous, real life Muppet, with his round body and face, under a blonde wig, over-sized red glasses, and a "Lying Weasel" t-shirt.

As you can see, I wasn't the first to make a comparison of him to a Muppet. I grabbed the above photo from this webpage: Celebrity Muppet Lookalikes.

But there is so much more to Bruce than just having an awesome look. Bruce Vilanch is a six time Emmy Award winner. He is the head writer for the Oscars. (I'm hoping maybe he can get me in to the ceremony next year... Check out my blog Buster goes to the Oscars.) Bruce is also a writer for the Tonys, Grammys, and Emmys, and known in Hollywood and New York as "the fat guy who writes EVERYONE'S jokes!" as well as starring on Broadway as "Edna Turnblad" in Hairspray. His career is so prolific, from his acting, writing, to holding a celebrity square on Hollywood Squares, and even song writing!

What a stroke of luck for me, running into the guy that writes everyone's jokes, since I'm a budding young comedian myself!

We enjoy the hell out of the show. Afterwards, rather than try to do my stand-up for him, I ask him for an interview. He graciously accepts!

This is a big time celebrity, so I give him my professional name, Fox Michaels.

After all, "Buster" was the "c-word" of the 1890s...

Without missing a beat, Bruce points out the humor of meeting a redhead named Fox! Gotta love him. The interview goes great.

He was funny and insightful. And at the end he gave me a big hug, which lasted a beat too long. Before I knew what was going on, Mr. Six Emmys cops a feel, grabbing my buns of steel as if he was testing the ripeness of melons at the grocery store! Hey, he is a smart man after all.

(Check the webisode above. At the end you'll see a slight look of surprise on my face at the end of the hug.)

This moral of this story is, I didn't waste my staycation. All of those squats paid off in spades. They were my ticket to the big interview with the writer for the Oscars!

Thanks Bruce! :)

Stay tuned friends, as I'm back in action, ready to make Season Two, bigger, better, and more bootylicious!

Love from Hollywood,

~ buster

Keep Your Head Above Water...

2011-07-18T16:01:00.000-07:00

BUSTER ~ "Baywatch Memories"

It seems to me that even a day at the beach is an analogy for "making it" in Hollywood. Sure it seems like a good time. It's beautiful, fun, and you can count yourself lucky if you get to spend a day there. It's a dream destination for people to live.

But just like Hollywood, the beach isn't as perfect as it looks in the movies, or on TV. It can be colder than you thought, there are sharks you don't really think about until they're circling too close, and you always seem to leave with some annoying sand in your ass-crack!

And don't get me started comparing the sadly delusional, youth-obsessed fallen angels that haunt both Hollywood, and the beach... Here's one fetching example:

I mean, I'll admit that the purse is du jour, being hot off the runways. And her hair does look good swept up. But now that she is over 30, I think that Paris Hilton should consider a one-piece bathing suit... And maybe consider sunscreen! Tanning is terrible for your skin!

Hey I have nothing against getting older, and I'm certainly not an ageist. I know I'm being mean here, but I think I speak for a lot of people when I say that I am thrilled that Paris is getting older. She was so smug about being "hot" and now she has to face the fact that the clock doesn't stop for anybody, no matter how rich you are.

Don't worry Paris, you'll have plenty of opportunities to be "hot" again in your future, when hot flashes become your "du jour!"

But let's get back on track to the topic of the day. The topic being the beach, and how it compares to Hollywood, being deceptively appealing. Take a look at these lovely, beach-going ladies. If you just pay attention to the "titty" area, as a lot of people do, they look pretty good. But if you pull back, and really take a good look, you'll see, that it's just a facade. A cover up...

Very clever gals! Thanks for the picture Marcia and Teri! I can't wait to see you back on TV again for the new season of Desperate Housewives!

This is a great example of how Hollywood isn't exactly as glamorous as it seems. You have to pull back the layers, and see if for what it really is.

It's just like the beach. The beach is beautiful and enticing. But it can also be dangerous. If you're not careful, that water will swallow you up whole, and you'll drown.

That's why they have lifeguards at the beach to keep you safe. There was even a world famous TV show about them when I was a kid. (Of course it all comes back to TV shows for me!) This world famous, highly successful TV show I'm talking about, is Baywatch!

Baywatch was exciting, and titillating. (pun intended) It chronicled the lives of southern California lifeguards. They lived and loved on the sunny beach, and saved people's lives with their athletic prowess and floatation devices:

And by floatation devices, I don't mean that orange thing Hasselhoff is holding... I mean the things Pam Anderson bought for herself that made her a star:

I mean, why else was this show world famous?

This proves my point exactly. These "lifeguards" were as plastic as anything you can find in Hollywood, and that show made it look like southern California was filled with only drop dead gorgeous people, trying live a "normal" life as they were heroic each and every week.

Oh yeah, the show also made it seem like it was deadly to go to the beach. Someone was either kidnapped by drug lords, attacked by sharks, or drowned every single week!

Maybe the producers were subconsciously trying to give a hidden message there. The message being: don't be fooled by the beautiful people. There is real danger in the water. You have to keep your wits about you, or you'll drown, the sharks will get ya, or even drug lords will kidnap you!

I went to the beach recently. I wasn't scared. If I can handle Hollywood, the beach is just, well, a day at the beach. I didn't see a lifeguard though. Hasselhoff was out getting a burger, and trying to be on reality TV. Hey just like Paris Hilton's youth, nothing lasts forever, not even the Hoff's super Baywatch fame!

I had an amazing day! And yes, it seems that today I've been trashing the beach and Hollywood collectively, but that doesn't mean I don't love them both. I just have my eyes open to what they're really all about.

That's the message I'm trying to put out here kids. Enjoy your time at the beach. Enjoy Hollywood. Soak in the rays and all the titillating (I love that word) beauty. But be warned. When it concerns both the beach and Hollywood, be careful of the sharks, make sure you know how to swim, and always keep your head above water.

Oh! And make sure you wear sunscreen!

Love from Hollywood,

~ buster

I'm On The Good Ship Lollipop...

2011-07-11T12:49:00.000-07:00

BUSTER ~ "At Mom's House."

It may come as no surprise, but my mother has an unwavering faith that I will become a Hollywood success. Some have accused her of being a bit delusional and obsessive about me becoming famous, but I have to give her credit, and thank her for it. The best gift she gave me, and as far as I'm concerned, the best gift any parent can give their kid, is a strong sense of self-confidence.

Sure, I've been accused of being over-confident, and self-delusional. But I like to think of myself as just being optimistic. I much prefer to think of Hollywood as my own "Candy shop. Where bon-bons play on the sunny beach of peppermint bay" .

Yes I did just quote the famous Shirley Temple song On the Good Ship Lollipop from the film Bright Eyes.

It's a favorite film of my mother's. In fact I suspect she tried to have her own lil' Good-Ship-Lollipop-Shirley Temple, when she dressed me up in this getup:

I mean, it was pretty effective, I've grown up to think of Hollywood as my own Good Ship Lollipop. In fact I feel like Shirley is a Hollywood Godmother of mine. It's like I can feel her grip on me...

Of course I didn't become a child star like Shirley. My mom couldn't bear the thought of me working as youngster. And I agree with her. In fact, I can't bear the thought of working now, as an adult.

Unfortunately my mom's gifts of supporting me, and housing me have now expired. But I still get to keep the best gift she gave me, the one I mentioned before, a strong sense of (over-)confidence.

So here I am, fully grown, in Hollywood. I'm totally confident that I will become a famous, successful, Hollywood actor.

Or at least famous.

I've noticed Bravo has been very prolific at churning out the latest breed of celebrity: the reality TV star! It's amazing to me at the amount of rich housewives across our great, industrious nation that have now become ultra famous (and even richer) thanks to that great, industrious TV genius, Andy Cohen and his "Real Housewives" franchise.

Watching a bit of it, (ok I've become obsessed, it's more than a bit. I can't get enough of these housewives) I get the bright idea that I should appeal to Andy Cohen , that I should be a Bravo reality TV star, with my Buster show!

Even better, I can get my mom to help! This is what she lives for; to see me as a success. Her house is just like the houses of all the Real Housewives. Except my my mom isn't a "real" housewife, she is just a real-life housewife. The point is, I can use her house as the set for a commercial pitching myself to Bravo, and Andy Cohen. I'll even let my mom film it.

So we are all set to film my self promoting commercial, when I remember that my mother has the combination of being both technically inept, and having chronic verbal diarrhea. This combo results in my commercial being barely shot, and full of her commentary. I don't why I thought she would be able to be silent while the camera was on, when I've actually never in my entire life seen the woman be silent.

Weddings, funerals, going to the theatre... With my mother there, I can always count on her unending commentary.

I suppose I can look at this in a positive light, and thank her for it, because it gave me another gift from her. The gift of gab. I learned at a very young age that it's important to be able to keep up with her, verbally. This ability to commentate on anything in front of me, is a magnificent skill that I couldn't have learned better in any fancy theatre or communications school.

So I didn't get my commercial done. But, I did remember that my mom has given me ultra optimistic confidence, a powerful sense of the yakety yak, and sparkling, get-him-on-TV-now personality!

Thank you mom, I love you.

And Happy Birthday!

Stay tuned friends, to see these gifts pay off, as I navigate that Good Ship Lollipop also known as Hollywood!

Love from Hollywood,

~ buster

Landing An Agent is a Lot Like Landing a Spaceship...

2011-06-30T10:02:00.000-07:00

BUSTER ~ "Crashing Benny's Spaceships"

Landing an agent is a lot like landing a spaceship. It can be tricky. There are no easy rules on how to land one. The leads on getting one are even more scarce than finding a place to park. And you can expect to have a few crashes at first.

I know what I'm talking about here, kids. I have plenty of experience in both. Well, I have plenty of experience crashing and burning when it comes to spaceships, AND Hollywood agents!

If you recall from my infamous run-in with the Delorean from Back to the Future, (in the blog, Great! Now I Need To Go Back in Time and Get My Time Machine) that I have a friend named Benny, who deals with top secret spaceships. So shhh. Keep it a secret please!

Benny has made the mistake of letting me do test runs on a few of his awesome spaceships. I say he made a mistake, because I've had trouble returning them in the same working order as when I got them.

They say that 70% of accidents happen close to home. Well, the first spaceship I borrowed, I crashed right across the street from where he lives! I got it up in the air, and then the sights of Universal City Walk took my attention. Apparantly I tend to steer those things right where my attention goes. I ended up crashing it into a burger joint right in the City Walk!

Weirdly, people cheered. They thought it was some Universal Studios stunt!

I guess Bruckheimer has exploded so many things in his movies, that now people think everything in Hollywood is just a movie stunt!

Pretty soon, we'll be dating animatronic people, or not blink an eye at seeing such a couple. (taking a look at some of the plastic people around town, it may already be happening!)

Benny was a little pissed, but he wanted me to get right back on the saddle, so he encouraged me to try another run in another of his spaceships! I tried to land it in a parking lot, but ended up crash landing right in the middle of Fry's Electronics.

Again, nobody blinks an eye. In fact, I think now the folks at Fry's are using it as their decor motif. It fits, being a store full of technical goodies. I think Benny ended up getting a designer's fee, so he wasn't too pissed. (He did fail to give me a cut...)

Still trying to get over my fear of flying, or rather landing a spaceship, I decided to "borrow" yet another spaceship, and try to get this right. If I can do this, then conquering Hollywood should be a piece of cake.

Well, the flight ended up being great. Getting cocky, I decided to fly out to the beach. It was a beautiful day, but that bus ride out to Malibu can be a bitch! I decided it would behoove me to take my super cool spaceship, and get there at light speed.

Things were going smoothly, until I got to the majestic Pacific coast, and the sun got in my eyes. Boom! I crashed right into the canyon, just down the street from Pam Anderson's compound! In fact, as I crawl out of this latest wreck, I can see a boobalicious figure, in Ugg boots and a mop of blond hair, running down to see if I'm ok. I mean she did play a lifeguard after all!

Pam Anderson very sweetly offers to let me use her phone to call Benny. As I wait for him to come get me, Miss Barb Wire and I really start to hit it off, as I recount to her all of my favorite Baywatch moments. In fact we almost become best friends, until I ask her what the hell she was thinking with that whole Kid Rock fiasco. She tells me to mind my own business, or rather, read her blog, and that I'm going to have to go wait out by the beach.

The fun times between Pam and me were over almost as soon as they started. And besides, she had to finish sewing all the costumes for her kid's school play.

I think things ended amicably with her, but I'm not sure if I'll get an invite to any of her vegan barbecues..

Benny is not very pleased to see me! He has banned me from ever getting near any of his spaceships. Which of of course makes me want to fly one more than ever!

I happen to know he has a special ship designed for the summer superhero blockbuster film The Green Lantern, to land right on Hollywood Boulevard for it's big premiere!

Naturally, I sneak into the control booth when the real pilot is taking a smoke break. (Yet another reason to quit smoking people... You never know what someone is going to "borrow" while you take your smoke break!)

I was bound and determined to land this sucker, and get myself back into Benny's good graces!

Well, you can imagine how nervous I was. The stakes were super high now. Not only did I desperately want to make Benny and myself proud, but real people were counting on this spaceship to land, not crash!

I land perfectly on cue! And Benny goes from shocked, to pissed, to elated, then proud, when he finds it was me who flew and landed his spaceship for The Green Lantern premiere!

I still can't believe it! Maybe it was the laser beam focus, or the fact that I had a real goal to land, but it went over so easy.

This must also be the trick to landing an agent! It seems getting a Hollywood agent to represent you is even more difficult than navigating a spaceship.

It certainly is more devastating to crash at landing an agent then it is to crash a spaceship, as people don't seem to care so much about the spaceships. They're used to seeing things like that in the movies all the time.

What isn't shown to blockbuster audiences, is the crazy Catch-22 of getting an agent to represent you.

In order to get them to see you, you need to have work on film to show them, and prove that you're talented but more importantly, bankable. However, in order to get bankable work, you need an agent to get you the auditions!

Figuring out the controls of a high-tech spaceship seems easier!

I did crash quite a bit before I figured out how to land a spaceship. I just need more practice navigating through the jungles of Hollywood, and even crash a little, before I think I'll figure out how to land representation.

I'm going to take the lesson I learned landing that Green Lantern spaceship, and apply it here. It takes laser beam focus, and being calm, knowing I'll reach my goal. I'm bound to land a great agent, just as easy!

Hey friends, take this lesson from me. Let me be the guinea pig for you. Not everyone has to crash spaceships in order to learn this lesson.

And be sure to stay tuned, to watch as I do get an agent, and further my adventures in Hollywood!

Love from Hollywood,

~ buster

Ryan Reynolds Looks Just Like a Movie Star Up Close!...

2011-06-20T16:12:00.000-07:00

BUSTER ~ "At the Green Lantern Premiere with Ryan Reynolds!"

I get so used to seeing badly costumed characters on Hollywood Boulevard that I almost stop believing I'll ever see the real thing. Now, I'm not totally coo-coo for coco puffs, I don't think I'm really going to run into Superman, but I do want to run into Brandon Routh, or whatever movie star plays him in a movie! The last time I checked, I was in Hollywood, where they make the movies. Come on, give me a real life movie star already!

So now it's the Hollywood premiere of the major blockbuster superhero movie of the summer, The Green Lantern! The boulevard is all sectioned off, complete with a big red carpet, and an even bigger Green Lantern symbol right in front of Grauman's Chinese Theatre. I've gotta admit, it is pretty exciting to be in the middle of all of this hoopla.

Of course, "green lanterns" of all shapes and sizes come out of the woodwork to seize the opportunity to make some tips, and more accurately, to get attention!

This guy looks more like a bad 80's rock/pop star to me, than a Green Lantern.

This "Green Lantern" looks more like a very scary eHarmony date I once had, mask and all. (awesome green converse kicks though!)

And while I have to give this guy props for bravely wearing form fitting spandex and green rubbers, that bulge reminds me of the days of "Weinergate," and I'm sorry, but that bod is just not believable as a real super hero.

As you can see, even though I give these clowns credit for creativity, they just are not the real thing. The big movie premiere is here, but as usual I'm so close, yet so far to the red carpet, that I might as well just be watching the movie stars on screen.

Suddenly, an unexpected Hollywood miracle happens! Ryan Reynolds himself, walks away from the red carpet, and comes over to the crowd of fans in front of me to sign autographs! Yes, Ryan-Green Lantern-Reynolds, the movie star, comes over right in front of me!

I'm so star-struck, my eyes can hardly believe it. I finally get to see a real life movie star, not some cheap imposter! Even further, his cool quotient just skyrocketed because he left the red carpet to come over and greet the fans dying to get a glimpse of him. And glimpse we did!

He really does look like a movie star! He's dressed impeccably in a light grey tailored suit, perfect for a sunny California summer day. He seems to be a foot taller than the rest of us. (Movie stars are larger than life, you know.) And remarkably, he is not even glistening, like I am. (let's face it, I've gone from glistening, to shvitzing in this sun!) I need to become a star asap, just so I can look calm, cool, and perfect like Mr. Reynolds here.

This act of generosity with his time, and autograph signing, makes me even forgive his current cheeky cover story of Entertainment Weekly:

Why I'm Obsessed With Ryan Reynolds. By Ryan Reynolds

That's right. He wrote an article about himself, and why he is obsessed with himself. Of course it's satirical, but just a little true. I may not be as obsessed with him and he is with himself, but I can totally respect a satirical article about how stars can become self obsessed. And after getting to be up close and personal with him, as well as seeing that he has an all important sense of humor about himself and his fame, he has moved up the list to being one of my favorite movie stars, that wear green tights.

Who else might be on this list, you ask? I'll just let you guess who the other green-tight-wearing movie stars are...

In the meantime, I need to work on getting my own cover story on EW, where I can write about why I'm obsessed with myself. Thank you Ryan Reynolds, for letting me get within smelling distance of a real life movie star, and for breaking down the stigma against being self-obsessed!

Love from Hollywood,

~ buster

The Horrors of HD, and a Call Back to Vaseline Covered Film Lenses...

2011-06-06T16:06:00.000-07:00

BUSTER ~ "Wendy Williams in HD"

So there you go, I was just browsing in an appliance store, when I caught a glimpse of Wendy Williams, in person! The fact that she was taking a nap on top of the refrigerators wasn't nearly as disconcerting as seeing her without professional hair(wigs), makeup, and under fluorescent lights!

Now I've heard she's a big gal, but the size of her was intimidating! I've gotta admit, it was very brave of me to report this on camera, with her being so close she could literally bite my head off, but what I have to say is of the utmost importance. Looking into her beady eyes, I feel that she got my point, and understood I'm using her as an example to put my message out there for the benefit of women all over.

My point is, that we need our illusions! We need our celebrities to be in make-up, with their professional weaves in place, and in flattering light! (Not to mention, sans whiskers in Wendy's case.)

No matter what kind of monstrosity a person's face may be, I feel there is no crime bad enough to warrant the cruelty of High Definition Transmission for women in the "media." Be it unfortunate genetics, a lack of estrogen(whiskers), or just age, I believe in a woman's God given right to makeup magic, soft lighting, and fuzzy transmission. It's TV's version of God's other given right, photoshop.

I just feel that life is hard enough as it is, especially for women, without having to show in High Definition no less, the ravages of age, and the elements. People on TV have a responsibility to give us, especially the very young and impressionable, a sense of supernatural beauty. We need to hold on to the dream that stars on TV have somehow found not only the fountain of youth, but a way to eliminate any type of large pore, sun spot, blemish, or laugh line, so that we have something to aspire to.

I mean, of course there is a whole industry devoted to makeup, and all it's secrets. But CoverGirl can only go so far. In fact HDTV has mercilessly exposed how much some of our leading actresses have to cake it on!

And the beauty product industry should be up in arms over the light that HD sheds, showing us that those gals on Wisteria Lane aren't miraculously perfect due to the magic that Oil of Olay has promised. Sure their foreheads have been positively frozen in time, (botox) but all of the Retinol this, or PH that Gunk doesn't really "reverse the effects of time" as effectively as promised.
Watching them in HD, gives a whole new meaning to "Desperate Housewives." Poor dears!

I think Barbara Walters has the right idea with using her famous "soft focus" lens technique. I mean the world is harsh enough without having to face the harshness of HD. HD, as far as I'm concerned means Harsh and Difficult to watch. Thank you, Barbara Walters, for softening your image on your famous specials, so life seems happy, and dreamy, if not a little fuzzy. Hey, they don't use the expression "warm fuzzy feeling" for nothin'! I admit, sometimes the soft focus on Barbara's specials go overboard, and I find myself rubbing my eyes because the blurry image can be a bit much, but just look at the beautiful job her team of lens softeners are able to pull off:

Barbara Walters, in "soft focus"

Barbara Walters in "HD"

Frightening, huh? I think she's doing us a service by letting us think she's still a beautiful young woman cutting to the hard questions we all want to know about celebrities. Hard ball questions like what kind of tree Jennifer Aniston would be, or if Justin Bieber and Selena Gomez are gonna "do it."

Please don't get this twisted. I have the utmost respect for Ms. Walters. She is a legend. She is an icon. I commend her for what she has done for women in journalism, and for showing us there is a better way than HDTV.

In addition to Barbara's "soft focused" technique, I feel it's important to give another legendary woman credit for showing us a better way to appear youthful on film. This legend I'm referring to is none other than that Red Headed Goddess of Comedy, Lucille Ball!

Lucy infamously shot all her scenes in the 1974 box office smash Mame, with Vaseline on the lens! This innovative technique let viewiers appreciate the art of her scenes, with an effect that looked like this:

Lucille Ball with her "Vasaline Covered Lens" technique

Lucille Ball in "HD"

As you can see, without the benefit of Vasaline on the lens, it would have been very distracting, to say the least.

So, let's review. HD is evil. Soft focus, (the modern day Vasaline on the lens) is merciful.

It's important to continue the facade on film that photoshop teaches youngsters in photos, online, and in magazines.

I suppose I could be liberal and progressive, and say it's damaging and dangerous to give people a false impression of what celebrities look like. But I would be a hypocrite, because even I use photoshop.

And I love it! I'll be the first to admit that I'm not perfect.

I grew up with a face full of freckles, that are now mixed with a healthy dose of pores which are more than a respectable size. It's not harming anybody to photo shop the connect-a-dots away. And when the time comes that I also get a road map of facial lines, (I'm fair-skinned, there's no more ozone layer, it's inevitable) you bet your bottom dollar that I will boycott the use of HD in filming my show!

Even still, Wendy Williams really should have those whiskers removed.

Love from Hollywood,

~ buster

Feeling Sick, and Not Nearly as Handsome as Bea Arthur...

2011-05-30T14:58:00.000-07:00

This flattering picture of me, looking like a sad combination of Edward Scissorhands and Endora from Bewitched, is an indication of where I've been the last couple of weeks. I haven't reported any Hollywood adventures lately because I have been visiting a town called Bronchial Pneumonia! Yes, I have been "sicka than a dawg," as one of the Real Housewives of New Jersey would say, while sitting in her living room that resembles the lobby of the Ceasars Palace Casino. What a bummer it's been. And I say bummer because it rendered me voiceless for 3 days! Nothing gets me down more than not being able to talk!

The only benefit from losing my voice from bronchial pneumonia, was when it came back I sounded just like Bea Arthur!

Yes, the only thing bringing me joy in these dark days of not feeling good, is perfecting my imitation of Bea! Only I clearly don't look as good as her. Just look at this headshot of hers. Now that is a Handsome Devil!

Imitating Bea Arthur is fun. I spend a couple of days demanding anyone around me to join me for a cheesecake. And no matter who it is I talk to, I bark at them with a manly, yet whiny "Maaaaaaaaaaaa!" Then I whip my oversized, overly shoulder padded blazer, and storm out onto my imaginary Lanai. (if you're lost, look up the Golden Girls, and please try to keep up, I've watched a LOT of TV in my day and all my references tend to point right back to Nick at Night.)

Sadly, this Bea Arthur voice only lasts 2 days, and then I graduate to squeaky, squawk box voice!
It sounds like I'm going through puberty, all over again!

Puberty, that magical time when my voice sounded like an overused bike horn. Puberty, when I learned the words that would be my staples, Clearasil and Old Spice Deodorant. Puberty, that eventful time when I had to regularly carry my Mead Five Pocket Binder in front of me to hide the perpetual boner that seemed to sprout up at the new found sexual excitement of any and every thing I saw, smelled, touched, or imagined!!! Chalk board erasers pounding together? Hot! (boner!) Tacos Tuesday in the cafeteria? Sexy! (boner!) Misty Jackson slept with gum and it got in her hair so she had to cut it all off, and now looks like some androgynous, mousy-blonde, four-eyed alien? Too hot for words! (insta-boner!!)

My body at that time was becoming a stranger to me, and what I had up until that point called my "pee-pee," was now this out of control indicator of my emotions! It betrayed my feelings, no matter how serious the event. Don't ask me why, but suddenly even the incense they burned in Sunday Mass, turned me on. I was like an excited puppy, wagging my tail furiously, knocking it into legs, doors, and coffee tables to show you I was just happy to see ya!

To be honest, I still haven't really gotten that under control. But I've come to realize that at this point in my life it's a good thing. Sorry makers of Viagra. Looks like I won't be pouring my money into your company for a few decades yet!

Yes, all those fun body issues, including the first time I had this squawky voice, came a knockin' on my door during that magical time of puberty.

That was also the time when I first learned that sick days were my "get out of jail free cards."

I came up with a brilliant plan in Junior High to combat my intense hate for Monday mornings. I learned on the first day of 6th grade that the school allowed 9 sick days a semester before the concern of having to retake anything in summer school became an issue. There were 9 full weeks without any of those blessed National Holidays, like Columbus Day, or President's day to break up the week, so I decided to use my "sick days" as my own personal holidays. I would just take every Monday off.

It was the same drill each week. Monday morning would creep up, and I would wake up moaning as if I was nearing death. I'd cough a little, and then declare to my parents, that (in a weak soto voice) "I think it's best if I rest and sleep today, to knock this 'thing' out, so that God forbid, (cough) I don't miss any more days of school"(cough). Either they admired how proactive and "adult" I was in looking out for my health, or I was really good actor, or they just figured it was better to know I was playing "hookey" and staying home, watching All My Children and Oprah, instead of ditching class to smoke and... whatever it is that bad kids do. (clearly I wasn't that much of a rebel).

I loved my "sick days." And lucky for me, I was never really sick so I could enjoy Erica Kane, and the big O (Oprah). Not like now. Sick days, really mean, SICK DAYS. I don't need to "play hookey," my school days are way behind me. I can watch All My Children and Oprah any time I want. Wait! It's 2011, and both of those shows are cancelled! Oh, how I hate irony when it backfires on me!

Now my sick days cost me time. Instead of giving me time away from dreaded school, they take time away from me being able to pursue my fame and fortune, time to update this blog, and time to even talk to my friends.

But the Bea Arthur/puberty squawk voice is still pretty funny!

Don't worry friends. I'm on the mend, and should be in top shape by next week, with a new Hollywood Adventure! So stay tuned.

And as always,

Love from Hollywood,

~ buster

Part 2 of A Gaggle of Purple & Red Ladies From the Planet Menopause! ...

2011-05-09T16:44:00.000-07:00

BUSTER ~ "Purple Ladies in Red Hats part 2, The Interview!"

When we last met, I was in the thick of what I naturally assumed was an invasion of purple and red aliens from the planet Menopause.

I was having a quiet dinner at a desolate Sizzler, when suddenly the place was flooded with a sea of purple outfits, red hats, and enough old(er) lady perfume to choke a horse!

It's such an unexpected and thrilling event that, at first I just don't know what to do with myself! There are so many of these "women of a certain age" dressed in outrageous purple outfits, tons of jewelry, and feathers galore, that I assume I have to either be hallucinating, or on ABC's What Would You Do?

You know what else is on ABC? Jimmy Kimmel Live!

I've been wracking my brain for weeks, trying to figure out how to get on Jimmy's show, and now I'm thinking maybe these purple ladies might be the gimmick I need to get on!

So even if this invasion of Purple Ladies in Red Hats is not a gimmick for What Would You Do?, I'm still gonna answer the question. What I'm gonna do is get up and ask these ladies who they are, what kind of gang this is, and see if they can help me become famous!

I get up, and approach the first lady I see. She looks to me like that old lady in those Hallmark cards:

I ask her just what is this group? That's when a whole cluster of them surround me, and all speak, telling me that it's the Red Hat Society!

I'm surrounded by them now, so I figure I might as well get to the bottom of it. So I ask what exactly is this "Red Hat Society," and why are they dressed like Muppets in purple with red hats and feathers.

They explain that the colors are based on a poem by Jenny Joseph, entitled "Warning" that says:

Inspired by this poem, a few women decided to get dressed up and get together to go out. To quote their "Queen Mother" Sue Ellen Cooper,

"The Red Hat Society began as a result of a few women deciding to greet middle age with verve, humor and elan. We believe silliness is the comedy relief of life, and since we are all in it together, we might as well join red-gloved hands and go for the gusto together. Underneath the frivolity, we share a bond of affection, forged by common life experiences and a genuine enthusiasm for wherever life takes us next."

So, basically, I sum up that this is a sorority for older ladies to get together, and be silly. Sounds like a good time! I ask if I can join them. I don't have a red hat, but I do have red hair, and I'm sure I can just go to a local Baptist church yard sale, and pick myself up an outrageous red hat.

They immediately poo-poo that idea, saying "NO MEN ALLOWED!"

Wow! These old gals may be out for fun and silliness, but if you try to break their rules, they come at ya with all the piss and vinegar they're made of!

That shut-down of my request to join them, stings quite a bit! I start to retreat, when this big one grabs me, and whispers that if I put on a purple dress, and wear less make-up, they wouldn't ask any questions.

Taking a closer look at this lady, I realize those aren't shoulder pads, but a nicely built set of deltoids. And that mustache of hers isn't the result of a loss of estrogen. This may indeed just be an older fellow, lonely enough to cross-dress, so he can be a part of a group that goes out. Hey, you gotta do what you gotta do!

Wait a minute?! Did (s)he just make a dig at me, telling me to wear LESS make-up, and I can pass as an older woman? Somebody's obviously jealous of my pretty-boy looks!

Let's get back to the group, and to the point when just after they shut me down for requesting to be a part of it for, being a man:

They tell me not to have any hard feelings, that even the Pope himself tried to join their Vatican City chapter, but was denied, due to the fact that he pees while standing up!

He even put this whole promo out. But was thoroughly rebuffed! This is a "ladies only" club.

Yeah. Try telling that to my new friend, old linebacker shoulders over there! I have half a mind to "out" him, lift up his dress to show them all that breasts aren't the only thing sagging on her. That they have a "cock in the henhouse"... But I can't do that to a new friend. (S)he did try to give me secret tips on how to join.

I tell the group it's enough for me that I can stand next to them and chat with their little old lady Sorority.

That's when the piss and vinegar comes spewing back at me! This is NOT a sorority according to them. It is not a club that they have to stay members of, and pay dues.

They see the look of confusion on my face, so they decide to send me to their Queen Bee. She is Queen Linda, and she can answer all of my questions. Just in case there is any doubt who Queen Linda is, she's the gal wearing the big diamond brooch that spells out: Queen Linda! Amazing!

If this isn't a sorority, it's some kind of gang for sure. I mean they have a Queen, and now they've sent me, this trouble maker asking questions, to go deal with her.

Queen Linda is lovely as can be. And I know she's gonna give me the real low down. I take no time to get in there with some pressing questions.

Like for one; I ask what they do with someone who shows up with an Orange hat. On camera, she tells me that it's ok, the offender won't get in trouble for not wearing Red. Off camera, she grabs me, and sternly tells me that they'll slap the bitch!

My next question is what exactly are their hazing rituals. She tells me point blank, that they don't haze.
But off camera, she tells me they do haze, and the rituals are enough to make a young boy at Yale cry for mercy and sign up for community college!

If you've been following along, you realize that the real deal, the "off camera" answers I get, are indicative of how fierce this group really is!

They're fun, cute, silly ladies, but don't F'ing mess with them!!! They want to enjoy their golden years and do what they want. Some smart ass young punk like myself, is not going to get in their way!

They are Fabulous. With a capital "F"!

I'm happy I got to run into them tonight, and learn about their group. It makes me want to be in a fun group myself.

I already know what group that is... It's a group of comedians, who get to be on TV!

SNL Cast

Partly because I've run out of questions for Queen Linda, and partly because she looks like she might eat my head if I take up any more of her dinner time, I bid her adieu, and leave her and the rest of the Red Hat Ladies to dine in their specially sectioned off area at the Sizzler.

What a trip tonight has been! And it started out as just a quiet, boring night at the Sizzler! It just goes to show, that there's never a dull moment here in Hollywood!

Stay tuned friends, to see what further adventures I get myself into. I may run into these Red Hat Ladies again, and hopefully I'll get to be in a future SNL cast photo, or something even better!!!

And as always,

Love from Hollywood,

~ buster

A Gaggle of Purple & Red Ladies From the Planet Menopause! part 1...

2011-05-02T14:33:00.000-07:00

Steadfastly holding on to your dreams can sometimes be a bit lonely.

Having a laser beam focus on my dream to "make it" here in Hollywood is a thrill. I wouldn't want to be doing anything else, or BE anywhere else but here in Tinsel Town.

However, I'm starting to notice that there's no one to break bread with. No one sitting across from me at the dinner table. (Well, except for my camera man. But for purposes of the whole "suspension of disbelief" there is no one behind that curtain. You're supposed to believe that I'm just magically on your YouTube screen... p.s. check out http://www.youtube.com/user/busterthewebseries)

Besides, Mr. Camera Man's purpose is to only document, he doesn't speak. I wonder if the Real Housewives get as frustrated as me when they can't get a rise out of their camera guys...

But back to my Lonely Boy predicament. That's right Dan Humphrey from Gossip Girl. You're not the only one who can use that moniker. You can keep it for Manhattan, but for right now, I'm the west coast Lonely Boy...

This particular night I take myself out to one of my favorite places to eat, the Sizzler. I'm hungry and want to have some good, cheap, buffet grub. As you recall, the Sizzler is a favorite joint of mine because I have found that if I flirt with the head waitress Peggy, she'll slip me a salad bar buffet plate for free!

Just about every chance she gets, Peggy lets me know that she'd also slip me a T-bone steak, if I slip her something back... (insert "bone" joke here)... (ooh! insert "insert" joke Here!)

I tell her thank you very much. I appreciate her offer, but I don't like to eat that.

The Steak! I mean, I don't like to eat meat. I'm a vegetarian. Get your mind out of the gutter. Gawd!

So I'm sitting at the Sizzler, all by myself, having a lonely dinner. The place isn't too busy.

This loneliness is starting to get to me. I feel like I'm losing my mojo. I can't even think of a good joke, and I'm in the Sizzler! I mean that place is rife with comedic fodder! From the perpetually "in heat" Peggy, to the relics who have seemed to have been camped out in their booths since The Sizzler was a hot destination in the late '80s, you would think my comedy material would be enough to perk me up.

But no. I'm just too bored, and lonely to care.

I need a serious injection of excitiment to break me out of this Blue funk.

And then..

Lo, and behold, the cure for me feeling Blue stumbles around the corner, dressed in Purple and Red!

It's this older woman, wearing purple, a bright red Hat and enough feathers to make the Muppets proud!

That perks me up a bit. I start thinking of a 100 different jokes.

But before anything can come out of my mouth, I'm struck dumb by the sight of a whole gaggle of these ladies filing themselves into the Sizzler!!!

It's the most outrageous thing I've seen since I accidentally stumbled upon a Captain Jack Sparrow and Captain America swapping spit behind the Grauman's Chinese Theatre last Monday! Aye Captain's! Get a room!

Back to my Gaggle. I don't exactly know what's going on at first. The sight of all these women of a certain age, dressed in bright purple with red hats, and feathers galore, is so odd, even for me. And I've been in Hollywood for a couple of months! You would think Nothing could phase me anymore!

Obviously my first thought was we are being invaded by aliens from the planet Menopause.

Then I rationalized that I might have been hallucinating from something I ate at the salad bar. That "crab meat" salad didn't exactly look right. The fact that I piled it on my plate right with the chocolate pudding may not have been my smartest move.

I could also be tripping on that "aspirin" Anita Cocktail gave me for my headache earlier, but I like to think that any hallucinations I'm getting is coming from the crab meat/chocolate pudding concoction.

In any event, the place is flooded with these Bea Arthur look-a-like Golden Girls, all dressed in outrageous outfits of Purple and Red.

I'm not scared at all. I LOVE the Golden Girls. There was a time as I grew up in the '80s, when I imagined my life was a mix of the sitcoms on TV. I literally would see the cast members of my favorites, like Family Ties, and yes, the Golden Girls in place of the real people I was interacting with.

I would daydream for hours about me being on a sitcom with my favorites. I can still clearly see the promo adds of me being a part of the casts!

Maybe now is my chance to make this dream a reality! Maybe these purple ladies are my own Golden Girls. Maybe they are just the right gimmick I need to get myself on Jimmy Kimmel Live, and let the world know I'm a star!

I need to get to the bottom of this Purple and Red invasion. Find out just who these "ladies" are. I put "ladies" in quotes for two reasons. For one, I saw a scuffle take place in the buffet line, when one of them tried to take "cuts." Some choice words were used that made my face as red as their hats. And for two, I'm not 100% sold that all of them are really ladies. I've been friends with the drag queen Anita Cocktail long enough to spot a cheap wig, and a "tucked gait" when I see one...

Stay tuned friends, for part 2 of my "Ladies in Purple and Red adventure" as I interview them, and get to the bottom of just who the hell they really are...

And as always,

Love from Hollywood,

~ buster

Great! Now I Need to Go Back in Time and Get My Time Machine...

2011-04-25T16:01:00.000-07:00

I'm stuck in a classic Catch-22. Specifically the kind where I need a time machine only for the purpose of going back in time to get my time machine.

Let me explain better so I don't come across as totally Coo Coo for Cocoa Puffs. I'm talking about the DeLorean Time Machine from the blockbuster Universal Film, Back to the Future!

That's right. I'm talking about the totally cool DeLorean, with its gull-wing doors that fly up, (try getting out of That after parking in a compact space at the mall!) its fiberglass underbody, stainless steel panels, and infamous history of being the only car produced from the Irish DeLorean Motor Company for only one year in the early '80s. The DeLorean, which that nutty, brilliant, mad scientist Doctor Emmett Brown turned into a time machine, was given to me, and in my possession for five minutes... Or 50 years, depending on what year you're reading this.

Or something like that. Man that whole "space-time continuum" thing is so confusing!

I'm afraid I may be making everything confusing. Before we all pull our hair out and end up looking like Doc:

Let me get back to the beginning of this scenario, so we can all be caught up, and go Back to the Future. Or wherever my car may be.

Its the start of a three day weekend. Who am I fooling? I can have seven day weekends for all I care. That's the bright side of being an unemployed actor. In any event, the working world has a three day weekend, and my friend Benny has a Friday off from his very important, top secret job. He invites me to come hang out with him at his cool pad in the Valley.

I've been haunting Hollywood Boulevard so much lately, that I'm starting to get signals from the ghost of the Black Dahlia to get off her turf. I can use a break from the Boulevard. A trip to the Valley might be just what the Doctor ordered. (Pun intended)

Benny lives in the hills right across from Universal Studios! It's a theme park AND a real working film studio, that has produced such classics as Jaws, 12 Monkeys, and the Back to the Future trilogy!

Even better than living across the street from Universal Studios, Benny lives across the street from Doc Brown, the mad scientist who creates the time machine in Back to the Future!

Ok, ok, I know all of you logic sticklers are trying to nail me about knowing Back to the Future is a fictional movie, and yet saying Doc Brown and his Time Machine are real. But I live in Hollywood, where dreams and fantasy are created every day, so just go with it bitches!

(Sorry for the sass! I think my psychic spiritual adviser, Anita Cocktail's attitude is wearing off on me.)

So yes, my friend Benny's neighbor is Doc Brown, and on this particular Friday that I'm visiting, I witness Michael J. Fox crash the DeLorean from Back to the Future, right through Doc Brown's front gate!

I immediately run over to see if Michael is ok. He seems a bit shaken up. (and I'm not just trying to make a poor taste Parkinson's Disease joke.) But let's face it, brotha should not be driving in his state. As my 87 year old friend Bessie Ann, says; the roads in LA are dangerous enough with all those "crazies" out there.

Michael J. Fox tells me he wasn't too worried about driving the DeLorean, being as you can't drive it too fast, or it will transport you back or forward in time. Driving slow is great, but he forgot that stopping to park the car would be a real issue for him. Luckily, Doc's front gate stopped the car for him!

I'm amazed that the car, and the Family Ties star seemed to have gotten through the crash without even a scratch, yet the front gate and wall holding it, are just a pile of bricks on Doc Brown's driveway!

"Great Scott, that was a close call!" I shout, as I run over to the wreck.

"You sound just like Doc!" Michael exclaims, as he shakes his head in disbelief. At least I think that's why his head is shaking. (What?! I'm sorry about the shaking jokes... I'm trying to tread lightly, but I'm dealing with a reality about him. It isn't Marty Mcfly after all, or even Alex P. Keaton. This is really Mr. Fox!)

"Are you alright? Wow! I'm a HUGE fan of you, and of Back to the Future!" "I can't believe I'm standing in front of the DeLorean Time Machine, and Michael-Marty-McFly-J-Fox!!"

"Whoa now. Steady yourself man!" (I let the irony of Him telling Me to "steady myself" go unchecked)

I calm myself down, and do what any sane person does when they see one of their childhood idols crash into a wall right before your very eyes. I ask for his autograph!

He takes it one step further and signs the title of the frickin' DeLorean over to me!! Turns out he was going to just give it back to Doc, but there was something about me that makes him feel like I need it more than Doc! Maybe it's the desperate look in my eyes, because I'm car-less living in a town where a car is a necessity. Or maybe it's because I keep saying I really want that car!!

What a generous guy! Alex P. Keaton would sooner admit Barack Obama has a legal U.S. birth certificate than just hand over a car to a guy!

But, like I said, this isn't Alex P. Keaton. This is Michael J. Fox, and Michael is an awesome, generous man!

Right before he hands over the title, he gives me a warning. I swear I can hear the dramatic movie music as the warning imparts... He tells me to not mess with the Space Time Continuum! It's best to not drive the car too fast and end up in a different year.

He once tried to go back to the '80s, when he was in his heyday on Family Ties, and it was just sad. Not only was his younger self a dick, going all method as Alex, but it took all his inner will not to tell Meredith Baxter he knows her "lady" secrets! Not to mention the heartache of seeing a cute little Tina Yothers, knowing she was just about to go through a, uh, metamorphosis...

Point taken. Messing with time is too complicated. I get to keep the car, but should'nt mess with time travel. That's ok. I just want something to tool around town. And I'm getting to do it in the frickin' DeLorean!!

Mike hands me the title, and goes inside to Doc's house. I gotta admit, the paper I hold in my hand is a mess! The poor guy's handwriting is so bad, it looks like he wrote it in Chinese! I hope it holds up in court. Maybe I can get a translator.

I'm so busy looking at the scribbles on the title, and congratulating myself for getting a car, that I don't notice this guy who lets himself in the car, and drives it away!

I get carjacked before I can even do a test drive!

I have a suspicion it was Biff Tannen, Marty McFly's nemesis in the movies. He's always lurking around, trying to steal the time machine! Shame on me. I know those movies too well to be off my guard like that!

I scream after it, warning not to go over 55 mph, and even try to chase it on foot, but I was too late, or early, depending on where in the timeline it went. That's right. This is a time machine we're talking about, and the car disappeared right there on Cahuenga, taking the bastard who stole it from me somewhere, or rather to some other time!

Depressed and dejected I stumble back to Doc Brown's place to tell him and Michael what went down.

True to form, I hear:

"Great Scott! We've got to get that car Back to the... When did it go?"

I tell him I have no idea. I didn't even get a chance to sit in the driver's seat, let alone program a time in the machine.

Doc tells me not to worry, that he's been working on turning a Prius into a time machine. The only thing is he still needs to find a nuclear reactor from some shady Libyans that generates 1.21 jiggawatts to power up the machine.

Great! So now I need to go back in time to get my time machine. Catch-22 right there! And I need to find a nuclear reactor? 1.21 jiggawats? Jigga please!

I'm done with all this DeLorean business! It's too complicated. It was really generous of Michael to out and out give it to me. But I feel it must be divine intervention that it was taken away just as easy. And sent to another time no less!

I think the lesson here is nothing worth having is given easily. It has to be earned. I need to earn getting a car. That will come from working. And I'll get that work, on TV, as soon as I earn it. I just hope it doesn't become another Catch-22...

At the end of the day, I had yet another awesome adventure, and learned a new catch phrase:
"Jigga please!"

Be sure to stay tuned to watch my further adventures!

And as always.

Love from Hollywood,

~ buster

Trying to Crack the Nut Known as "Hollywood"...

2011-04-18T15:03:00.000-07:00

This is me, after pulling an all-nighter, studying up and trying to crack the nut known as "Hollywood!"

I thought I was on the right track, with my plan to just hang out at Tinsel Town's ground zero, Hollywood Boulevard, and attract big time Hollywood producers. Getting "discovered" has been my main objective.

It's taking a little longer than I had envisioned. Waiting, just isn't my style. I've gotta do something. Get active!

I bring this up when I run into my drag queen friend, and psychic spiritual adviser, Anita Cocktail. She always seems to be around when I need some advice.

So right there, across from Ripley's Believe It or Not, under the watchful glare of the Dinosaur who bursts through it's roof, eating Time's Clock, Anita Cocktail lays out my next Hollywood move.

She lays it out for me while simultaneously trimming her toenails, and also mad dogging the Church of Scientology girls who keep trying to take her shady spot so they can sell their copies of Dianetics. That Anita Cocktail is a talented multi-tasker!

Back to my next move. Anita Cocktail beckons me to come closer. She sets down her toenail clippers, clears her throat, and declares:

"Listen up my little Gingersnap, this is a biggie..."

I hold my breath! I've come to learn that when Anita Cocktail gets that glazed look in her eye, she's either channeling a higher power, ready to dispense supernatural wisdom, or she's about to sound the backdoor trumpet!

Lucky for me, its Wisdom she dispenses, and not one of her Colon Calamities! She pulls from her tattered Hermes Birkin knock-off, an equally tattered book.

"This is what you need to be doing. Study up on your business. Learn the rules, and learn them WELL, baby!"

It's a beat up copy of Judy Kerr's ACTING IS EVERYTHING (an actor's guidebook for a successful career in Los Angeles)

This is awesome! A guidebook that will teach me "everything" I need to know for a successful career in Hollywood!! I jump up and down with glee, as is my way whenever excitement gets the better of me, and I squeal high pitched thanks to Anita Cocktail for giving me this magical book.

She tells me she didn't "give" anything! The correct word I'm looking for is "lend." She tells me she's gonna need it back soon, because she is still trying to figure out herself, just how to have this successful Hollywood career that the book promises.

When I take a better look at the tattered book I'm holding, I see that it has a copyright date from 1990!!!

Now I admit I may not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but I have a feeling the "rules" have changed a bit since 1990...

For one, I don't think I need to buy a huge pack of VHS tapes to have multiple copies of my reel. The last time I checked, people only keep their VCR's to have a digital clock display by the TV. For another, I don't think I need to always have plenty of dimes for a payphone, so I can call back a casting office's number when they page me on my beeper!! I'm not even sure how a "beeper" works...
And I really have no idea what it means when it advises to get a "Thomas Guide" so I can get around the Los Angeles area, and learn directions with ease. I have a feeling that the Thomas Guide might be like a book version of Google Maps... How big must that map-book be?!

Speaking of Google, I don't see one chapter in this 1990 super acting textbook about the internet, FaceBook, Twitter or YouTube!! (p.s check out Buster The Web Series on YouTube!!!)

Then again, I can't read most of the book. A lot of the pages are stuck together from glitter and glue, (at least I hope it's glue) or have phone numbers and names written in red lipstick, which is smeared all over the pages. Anita Cocktail really needs to get himself an address book!

Two chapters are kept in tact completely. The first is all about "Creating Your Style and Image."

This is no surprise. Anita Cocktail seems to be fixated on her image! The chapter has so many lines highlighted, it's practically glowing! Particularly highlighted, are the sections on "Waxing," and the one on "Age Defying And Beauty Enhancing Techniques." This has to be all for Ms. Cocktail. I don't seem to get any inspiration or wisdom from this!!

But I did say that there were TWO chapters kept in tact completely...

The other one is almost near the end of the book. It's the chapter titled: "Love Of Your Career And Show Biz."

Basically its a collection of quotes and essays from people who have "made it" and become successful. They all have the same thing to say. This business has a lot of heartaches, disappointments and struggles, with people telling you to quit and try something else. Every one of these successful people listened only to themselves, and continued pursuing their dreams because they love the craft, and they love the business.

Love. Love, and perseverance. That's the lesson Anita Cocktail was trying to impart to me! To not get discouraged because success hasn't happened to me yet! Eventually Jimmy Kimmel's people, or maybe someone even better, WILL discover me.

But I have to be ready for when it happens!

There is another chapter in here that's still mostly legible. It's about getting into an acting class, and getting trained. Hey, it even talks about doing Improv, and stand-up! I'm pretty funny! Maybe I should learn some technique to mold all this raw talent of mine!

So pulling an all-nighter, pouring through this ancient, beat up actor-bible, and getting my hair to look like this,

has paid off after all. It may not have completely cracked the nut that is Hollywood, but it certainly has helped me find further direction!

I do LOVE being here in Hollywood! I'm thrilled to be able to chase my dreams of Hollywood success. I just know they're going to come true. With perseverance, a lot of Love of what I'm doing, and staying active in training, it's bound to happen!!

Please come along, and keep me company on this wild Hollywood ride! I promise I'll comb my hair!

And as always,

Love from Hollywood,

~ buster

Menudo? I'll stick to the hangover...

2011-04-11T03:32:00.000-07:00

BUSTER ~ "Menudo"

Sometimes life's coincidences seem too much of a, well, coincidence.

For some mystical reason, this was Ricky Martin Week.

Speaking of mystical, it all started from a run-in with one of my new Hollywood Boulevard friends, who is also my psychic spiritual adviser. This mystical friend/spiritual adviser is none other than the sometimes cranky, always fabulous, drag queen, Anita Cocktail.

It's a sunny Thursday morning, and I'm hanging out on the Boulevard. I'm just minding my own business, visualizing my imminent TV Stardom, when Anita Cocktail knocks past me. In a fit he throws a book in the trash, screeching "What a F@#&*'n piece of Garbage!"

This behavior is pretty shocking to me. I'm used to Anita Cocktail being nothing but kind, and rarely screeching. I've come to count on her dispensing Pearls of Wisdom, and like I said, being somewhat of a spiritual adviser to me.

(Rumor has it he, sorry she, also dispenses Pearls of "Inspiration" in the alley by Wilcox for a small fee. If interested, I think you're supposed to settle the deal with her business manager, Rosy Palm.)

But I don't really care to know too much about that particular side of the mystical Anita Cocktail. I just like to pay attention to her psychic side. For instance, when she first saw me on the street, she ran up to me, and told me that she could see my future. And my future is being on TV!

I like those kind of premonitions!

She also told me to never stop smiling, that my smile is worth a million bucks! Even when I have this confused look in my eyes that I tend to get anytime she speaks, I should just keep smiling away. She also told me to be wary of any woman who has an Adam's Apple. When I pointed out that she had one herself, she pointed out that I'm a fast learner. And that's the moment I realized I had made a friend who is a "Drag Queen."

She really is very kind to me, and gives me all kinds of favorable predictions. That's why it is such a shock to see Miss Thing in such a huff, pushing me out of the way as she throws away that book, then dropping that F bomb: "What a F@#&*'n piece of Garbage!"

"Miss Anita Cocktail, what is it about that book that has you so cross?"

"Well my little Gingersnap," (oh yeah, she calls me her little Gingersnap. It's hard to deny a nickname from a drag queen. They're so inventive!)

"Well my little Gingersnap, I plunked down $22 at Borders for Ricky Martin's book "ME", hoping to read about some hot Puerto Rican Chaca-Chaca, now that he's come out of the closet. Instead it's more La-Di-Da, rather than Ooh La La! Since "coming out," his life revolves only around his twin boys, and changing diapers!"

"But Anita Cocktail, don't you always advise me to drink plenty of water, and eat lots of fiber, to ensure I have a healthy colon, because at your age YOUR life revolves around changing diapers, only they're your own?!"

"Honey, I gave you that advice for free, I didn't charge you no $22! Thanks a lot for the reminder about my age, and about my leaky colon!! And now I think its time that Miss Anita Cocktail leaves you before he decides to throw YOU in the same rubbish bin with Ricky!"

And off she goes, flitting down the street! Man those drag queens are Sassy! And Unpredictable!

As soon as she's out of sight, I grab the book from the garbage can to give it a try. Don't judge, it's a book about an extremely successful Pop Star! I just might get to interview him one day, or even "act" along side him! And furthermore, I think it helps to read other biographies so I can learn what "pops" for when I have my own book written one day. I figure it's good research.

I know it's gross that I just did a little dumpster diving, and for a book, but I don't see the point in paying $22 for it, when Anita Cocktail already did. Of course I could always go to the Library, but it's actually more pleasant to fish the book out of the trash, then to try to go into the Frances Howard Goldwyn Public Library on Ivar (between Hollywood and Sunset).

The entrance to that library seems to have been "claimed" by this toothless and shirtless African man. When I say "claimed," I mean like a dog "claims" territory, by pissing all over the place! The smell is so bad, I'm sure some of the books inside have already disintegrated! There is no way I'm going to cross that threshold!

Doesn't seem like anyone else wants to either.

And they wonder why reading is a dying art form!

Back to my new found treasure, the Ricky Martin book, ME.

ME. What a simple, yet egotistical title. I love it!

I think the title of my forthcoming biography should be a twist on this, using the Spanish word for "me", which is "YO."

What a great idea! That's sure to help me crossover to different fan bases. A title like "YO" will appeal to the Latin markets, AND the Hip-Hop community!

I have fond memories of wearing my Converse sneakers, staying up late on Saturday nights to catch Yo! MTV Raps.

Yes! "YO" is a brilliant title for my biography!

But back to Ricky's book, and what I learn. Turns out, Anita Cocktail was right! The book is pretty F'n boring!

Well, I'm not entirely sure if that's true. I'm so busy daydreaming about my own biography, and all the exciting adventures that will fill it's chapters, that I don't really pay attention to the words I'm skimming on the pages of "ME."

Maybe that's how I'm able to read all 304 pages in only an hour and fifteen minutes!

I do retain some of the information. Like the fact that he got his start almost instantly, rocketing to Super Fame, in the boy band Menudo! And that he became a heartthrob to housewives across America, when he became an actor on the soap opera General Hospital!

Hey, General Hospital is on ABC! Just like Jimmy Kimmel!! See what I meant earlier about coincidences?

I think I get just about everything I need out of "ME," and then I place it back where I found it. The trash can.

Don't get on my case about throwing away a book. I've learned that things don't stay in the trash for long in Hollywood, even if they should. Like how many times are they going to resurrect the garbage that is the "Saw" franchise, for yet another crappy sequel??

In any event, almost as soon as I throw it away, I spot a guy in a Charlie Chaplin costume pick it up, and mime jumping up and down with glee, mouthing the words "jack-pot!"

He must be a fan of Ricky's. It's cute to watch him, book in hand, waddle down the street, just like the ending of a Charlie Chaplin movie. I swear I can see the words "The End" get written in the air, as I watch him go off into the sunset and his black and white waddling figure gets smaller and smaller...

All this reading has made me hungry, and a little delirious, so I decide to stop in to Sizzler's for lunch. I like it there. They have an all you can eat salad bar, and I've learned that if I flirt with the head waitress Peggy, she'll slip me a salad plate and soup bowl for free!

I go to grab a soup from the salad bar, and that's when the coincidences I mentioned before get way too freaky! The soup of the day is Menudo!

How crazy! I just read about this Latin Boy Band Sensation, and now I see that it's the Soup of the Day at Sizzler's Steak House!!

The curiosity of what it looks like is killing me! I look inside, and almost lose my donuts!

I'm sorry, but it is disgusting! It looks like Ricky Martin has not only left the band, but he left some deposits in that soup bin. Uggh!

Peggy tells me that Menudo is also a famous Mexican soup, made up of a hodgepodge of ingredients, including cow stomach and entrails.

Excuse me?! I'd rather have the Clam Chowder, (which incidentally looks like deposits from Anita Cocktail!)

"Don't knock it till you've tried it, sugar." Peggy advises, when she sees the offended look on my face.
"Menudo is supposed to be an excellent cure for a hangover."

Yeah I'm sure it is. One taste of that, and you focus on how far you've sunk to be eating cow entrails, that you forget the nausea from being drunk!

But thinking more "Big Picture," I wonder if all of this is a lesson for me about Fame...

Maybe my spiritual sage Anita Cocktail deliberately sent all of these "coincidences" on my path as an allegory about Fame's roller coaster nature.

Menudo was the biggest boy band in the world! And it made Ricky Martin a superstar!!

But now all it is, is a vomit looking soup at the salad bar. Fame, at least Super Fame doesn't last forever.

I may end up one day just being a soup special at the salad bar, known for curing hangovers...

I should be so lucky!!

Stay tuned to watch my fame rise, and watch as my adventures fill up my future biography, "YO!"

And as always,

Love from Hollywood,

~ buster

Jamba Juice Reveals to Me My Soul Sister from Planet Hollywood...

2011-04-04T02:02:00.000-07:00

"Help! Somebody Help! HEEELP!!"

These screams startle me. They snap me to full alert. Its hard to place where they're coming from. I must be in shock because it takes me a second to remember even where I am. One look down at the star of Jay Leno I'm standing on reminds me that I'm right where I should be, on that Yellow Brick Road to fame, Hollywood Boulevard. Except it's not made of yellow bricks. It's pavement, with stars of Hollywood legends placed every few feet, reminding me that dreams come true in this town every day. And I'm on my way to making my dream come true of being a famous TV celebrity, hobnobbing with the Stars of today.

But back to my current situation:

"HELP ME... OH GOD! NOOO!"

It's a lady in distress!

I know just what to do!

I run in the direction of the screams, ripping open my button down shirt, and tearing off my business suit jacket to reveal my Superman costume...

HOLD UP! Even I'm confused...

Since when do I wear a business suit, with a Superman costume underneath?

Part of my brain ponders this question, but the other part is so confident that this is what I do. And now I need to go use my Superpowers to help a lady in distress.

I round the corner on Vine, in the direction of where I hear my "damsel" screaming her bloody head off.

I'm now in full costume, with blue tights, a red cape and a big "S" on my chest. But the strangest thing about it is no one thinks this is out of the ordinary. No one except this middle aged, potbellied man, wearing the same exact outfit as me, who is eating lunch at this outdoor cafe next to the scene of the crime.

He gets so offended at the sight of me in my costume that he throws down his Falafel sandwich and stands up (belly flopping out from under his shirt) and screams, "Hey RED! No one but ME gets to play Superman on Tuesdays! And besides, everybody knows you can't be no ginger haired Superman, you gotta have blue black hair! If you're gonna make a joke out of this costume, you deserve every sucker punch that comes your way! Starting with mine!"

If you're paying attention to these events, then surely you've caught the nerve and irony of this dude's statement, "make a joke out of this costume." I don't ever remember Superman having a potbelly, or high-water tights creeping up his "you know what!" Not even that barrel chested Superman of the 1950s TV show Adventures of Superman, played by the tragic actor George Reeves looked this over-the-hill! And since when did Superman ever let Falafel Tahini Sauce drip down his shirt??!

It doesn't upset me that he makes a dig about the color of my hair being all wrong for the costume, because for some reason I feel confident in what I'm doing in this moment. What I'm doing is being a hero!

So back to this over-the-hill, fake Superman, and his "sucker punch"... He tries to clock me by surprise, and my Super Senses feel it coming. I grab his fatty fist with ease, lift all 230lbs of him like it's nothing, and slam him to the ground.

That's when I hear my damsel again.

"No NO NOOO!"

With Super Speed, I jet over to the woman wailing, who I can now see is on the ground and distraught.

"Miss, I've heard your screams. I'm here to help!"

She looks up.

It's none other than Kathy Griffin! One of my redheaded, fame hungry, comedy heroes!

"You're here to help ME, costume boy?!" She guffaws. "What, are you gonna sit on this Star and cover it with your cape so no one sees it? Or even better, are you going to go to the Hollywood Chamber of Commerce in your little tights, and plead for me to get a Star on the Walk of Fame? Right! All I need is some redheaded kook in a costume to talk on my behalf!"

Kathy is clearly in a MOOD!

Apparently, she has been campaigning to get her own Star, but to no avail. And today she happens to be on Vine, going for a Falafel at the same cafe Mr. Potbelly was enjoying his, when she noticed something that stopped her dead in her tracks, and made her scream bloody murder.

She saw Joan Rivers' star! And the jealousy was too much for her little fame-whore self to bear.

That's when I realized that Kathy and I have a lot in common. Much more than being Irish Reds decended from a long line of Irish Drunks. We share a voracious appetite for fame, and an intense love/hate relationship with the legendary Joan Rivers!

As you'll recall, I had a run in with the comic genius myself, just a few weeks ago:

BUSTER ~ "Joan Rivers"

Back to Kathy.. I tell her that I can help her. I really do have super powers, and I'll get us both what we want.

I lift her up, and tell her I'm flying us to the Hollywood Chamber of Commerce right away!

But I don't get more than five feet off of the ground before I start to feel incredibly weak, and instantly fall. I can feel my powers fade so fast, I drop her, and fall to the ground. That's when I realize she must be like Kryptonite to me! It must be because we come from the same Redheaded, Blue Eyed, Fame Chasing, Comedy Planet.

Oh right... I just remembered we come from Planet Hollywood!

Being around her, with her awesome Comedic Superpowers must somehow affect my Superpowers. She's much stronger than me. Maybe I should ask her to help me? She's figured out this fame thing a lot better than I have.

At the moment I just need help getting up, I can barely stand. She's a little pissed at me for dropping her, but reaches out her hand anyway to lift me up. But that's when old Fatty Fake Superman runs over and kicks me in retaliation for our scuffle earlier.

The kick makes me roll down the street, rolling over the Stars, rolling away from my Comedy Super Sister Kathy.

Rolling far, far away from her.

No! No, Kathy don't leave! Help me! I need you to help me chase fame, in funny way!

Help me Kathy! HEEEELPPP!!

And then I wake up!

I was having some kind of wild dream that turned into a nightmare.

How intense!

I mean, I should of realized the second I used a Wizard of Oz reference like the Yellow Brick Road, that I wasn't in Kansas anymore. And by "Kansas" I mean fully awake, as opposed to "dreamland."

It must of been that Jamba Juice with the two "power boosts" I had for dinner that did the trick.

Hanging out in Hollywood, trying to get discovered, and dealing with these costumed character "actors" has really messed with my mind. Even still, it was a pretty cool dream. It sure was a step up from the usual dreams I have of lollipops and dragons.

But the dream did tell me two things. The first one is that being a famous actor, is like being a super hero. I need to remember to use my powers for good, and not to piss off or slam my fans, because they'll come back to kick you.

The second thing I learned is that I need to find Kathy Griffin! She isn't the damsel in distress that needs my help. Rather, I think she can help me...

Stay tuned friends to see if this latest idea pans out!

And as always:

Love from Hollywood,

~ buster

AA Meeting Turns into Tripping to the '70s...

2011-03-28T15:04:00.000-07:00

BUSTER ~ "AA Meeting Turns into Tripping to the '70s"

I'm bored and hungry and I remember from the kick ass film Fight Club that churches hold group meetings filled with lonely people like me, and you can attend them for free. Even better, these places have free coffee and donuts. Score!!

So, pulling my best Edward Norton impersonation, I go to a close by church, and waltz into the first group meeting I see. It's a meeting for Alcoholics Anonymous, or AA. I'm not an alcoholic. I know this sounds unethical, but I'm hungry and lonely right now, so I decide to still attend, and look at this as an acting exercise. I look at it as sort of a character study.

I gotta say, these people are fascinating! Their stories are so powerful, heartfelt, raw, and inspiring! What I like most is there is a lot of humor in the way some of these people tell their story. That's uplifting. As far as I'm concerned, this has to be on TV. And if I host a show being charming, funny, yet caring, it is going to make me look like a Star. Then everyone is going to want to talk to me!

And when I say everyone, I mean you Charlie Sheen! I'll bet you and I could make TV magic!

So I have the content and the cast of characters for my first "hosting show." Now I just need a good location. That church basement is too darn depressing. Besides the lighting is horrible. It makes me look so gaunt!

There's this interesting looking Italian restaurant I always pass by on Hollywood Boulevard. It says it's "Open," but I never see anyone go in there. I call them up from the church and ask if I could use their spot to film a show. Not only do they absolutely agree to let me film my show there, but I think I can hear the guy on the phone and some woman jumping up and down for glee, like this is the best news they've heard in years.

I leave a note on the director of AA's office door, giving him all the details of my show, like where and when to meet. I'm confident he'll be as excited as the guy at the restaurant about filming my show, and show up with his most fascinating members.

Now I just need to go to the restaurant, meet them in person, set up for filming, and wait for the drunks, I mean my cast to arrive.

Stepping into the near empty restaurant, feels like I'm stepping into the past...

The place is empty, but that doesn't stop the waitress/hostess with a Farrah Fawcett hairdo, from asking me if I have a reservation. I tell her I'm the guy who wants to film a show there for AA.

I'm instantly welcomed with open arms! In fact she hugs me so tight, I start to choke on the Aqua Net hairspray that is shellacked on her teased hair and is feathering my face!

It seems it's been a while since Hollywood remembered this was The Joint to hang at. And when I say "a while," I mean like thirty something years! That's a little weird to me because it's located right there on Hollywood Boulevard and La Brea. Right where I thought all the action was. But then again I'm learning that nothing about Hollywood Boulevard is exactly what I thought it was.

I order a Chicken Parmesan Sandwich from Miss Feathered Head, and wait for the crew to arrive. As I wait, I take a better look at my surroundings...

Somehow the rerun of Three's Company playing on the static filled 10 inch TV, (complete with tin foil covered rabbit ear antennas), seems like it's being broadcast straight from it's original air date in 1976!

From the looks of this place, I'd say they're desperately asking for someone to "come on knock on our door!" Knock I did. But boy, I didn't realize when I set foot inside, that I would be transported back to the Regal Beagle!

It is AWESOME! The place has red leather booths, a hazy amber glow like I'm being taped on 1970's film, and no fourth wall, but bleachers filled with a live studio audience all dressed in polyester! OK, I'm kidding about the live studio audience. The laughter I'm hearing must be "canned." (Or it might just be my active imagination.)

In any event, I realize right then and there why this place was so easy to book without even a meeting! They haven't had a packed house since it was alright to feel groovy, avocado was an acceptable color for your toilet, and the Brady Bunch Sisters were America's Kardashians!

But getting a good look at the place, I realize that I must be tripping on a bad batch of Scooby Snacks if I think this is the right venue to host a show for Alcoholics Anonymous. If they were to take one look at all the wine bottles placed just out in the open everywhere, pandemonium would surely break out! Zoinks! My hosting career would end before it even started.

I try to call the director in charge of AA to cancel, and reschedule our shoot, but I wasn't getting any service on my cell phone! In a panic I ask if there's a phone I can use. The waitress tells me to "chill out man! The phone's over there by the register."

"Thanks foxy momma!" I tell her, and pick up the huge contraption they call a phone. It's a mustard yellow rotary-dial. Terrific. My fingers hurt after dialing the number. No wonder old people have arthritis!

I get the AA director on the line, and tell him I need to reschedule my AA show. All I hear is laughter. Turns out he thinks I'm a prankster his friend Benny hired to play a practical joke on him. I don't get the joke. He has to explain to me that there is no way any of his members want to be on a show. The organization is anonymous. It's right there in the name! These people are dealing with a real disease, and don't want to air their dirty laundry on TV. He tells me this, and slams down the phone.

Excuse me! Has this guy never heard of Dr. Drew, and Celebrity Rehab?! Of course people want to air their dirty laundry! Everyone wants to be on TV!

I think it has more to do with the fact that I asked them to bring the camera equipment, and production team. Yeah, I haven't been able to assemble those little details on my own just yet.

It's just as well, because now I need a better location. I don't need the disaster of twenty angry drunks hoochin' it up with the easy access wine bottles that fill up my new found 1970's haven.

Speaking of which, I should get back to my funkadelic "current" situation.

Current is in quotes, because at this point I'm not sure if I'm still in the current year, or in some bad Twilight Zone rerun. (which would be really freaky, since I think that show ended in the '60s!!!)

It gets a little weird when the waitress asks me to watch her pet rock while she goes for a smoke break, and then sits in the next booth to take it. Apparently 2011 laws of anti-smoking in restaurants don't apply to restaurants stuck in a 1970's time warp.

I gotta get out of here before I start to think Mutton Chops and Bell Bottoms are a good look for me. So I finish my Chicken Parmesan Sandwich (of course), and tell them I "gotta boogie." See, back in the '70s that meant I gotta go, not that I have a "bat in the cave," or something hanging out of my nose. Because announcing that would just be awkward...

So I step out from this Hollywood time capsule, back out to the bright sunny Hollywood Boulevard of 2011, where there's horrible turmoil with the Middle East, we are in a debilitating economic slump, unemployment is high, gas prices are ridiculous, and right wing politics are gaining momentum against a democratic president...

Wait, looking at history, this isn't too different from the 1970s at all!

That's heavy man!

I gotta take a chill pill, get my head away from politics, and back on topics that make me happy, like Hollywood and TV stardom!

Ok friends, May the Force Be With You and I'll Catch you on the Flip Side!

(I looked it up. Those are the coolest things you could say in the 1970s)

I'm not Jiving you... Can you Dig it?!

As always:

Love from Hollywood,

~ buster

Comfort can be found in Platitudes & Bumper Sticker Catch Phrases.

2011-03-21T16:23:00.000-07:00

BUSTER ~ "Book of Revelations"

Houston, we have a problem!

I've been waiting my whole life to use that line! Not only is it from the kick ass Universal film Apollo 13, but I think it really came from a space mission on the moon, way back in the 1970s!

Basically the line means that things are not going as well as planned for me. I've been in Hollywood for a couple of weeks now, and even though I got pretty darn close to the Oscars, I still haven't been on a red carpet once!

I thought I knew what I was getting myself into by watching Entertainment Tonight, E! News, Extra, Access Hollywood, and The Insider every night with my old friends at the nursing home, where I used to volunteer.

Yes that's right, I have a philantrhopic side! Even more surprising I'm sure, is that I know what philanthropic means! But I'd like to keep that on the down low for now. I'll use that as my secret weapon when the time comes.

I need to get back on track. And the track I'm on, is the stone cold realization that in real life Hollywood Boulevard is nothing like the glitzy, glittery Hollywood Boulevard of those entertainment news shows! This is a world famous, iconic, dream destination. Yet in reality, it's down right scary!

Maybe that's a test from the Hollywood God's to see who has the guts to stick it out.

I'm talking about the boulevard of stars. I mean that's where the stars of Bob Hope, Lucille Ball, and John Stamos lie for all us fans to gawk at and take pictures. It's gotta be the place where I'm gonna make my dreams of being on TV come true!

To make myself feel better, I decide to do a little celebrity scouting, to reaffirm that I'm in the place of stars, and that I'll be one of them soon!

I need to see a real celebrity right now. No costume characters, no wax figures, but real life celebrities.
I'm really hoping I get to see Jimmy Kimmel, but I understand if my destiny is to meet him in his studio, while taping his show. I'm patient for that one.

I'm thinking about that biblical quote "seek and ye shall find." I know, I seem to be all about the quotes right now. I'm just going to go with it.

So, seek and ye shall find. I do find some celebrities that are not costumed impersonators, or even wax figures, but they're not exactly the A-list Jude Law, Julia Roberts types I'm going for...

BUSTER ~ "Weirdos"

Yep, it's true. If weirdos could fly, this would be an airport. There is no shortage of weirdos on this Boulevard.

But I like to look on the bright side, see the glass as half full, and find the silver lining. If Hollywood Boulevard is mainly a sea of freaks, and cheaply costumed impersonators, then it's only going to make me stand out even more. I'm the real deal. A true star in the making. I'm bound to get discovered by Jimmy Kimmel Live... Then America... Then the world!

I just need to keep my spirits up, keep on truckin, and keep the faith that stardom is just around the corner for me. And in the meantime I have all my platitudes and quotes from bumper stickers to keep me going.

Stay tuned friends to watch as I "keep on truckin!" :)

Love from Hollywood,

~ buster

Buster goes to the Oscars!!

2011-03-15T10:14:00.000-07:00

BUSTER ~ "Buster goes to the Oscars!"

Yes that's right! Just a few weeks of being here in Hollywood, and I got myself close to Oscar gold!

How did I pull this off? Well let me it back a few days to the moment fate and inspiration struck me with the idea I could get to the Academy Awards:

It's just a nice sunny Monday, and I decide to have a little lunch at the famous Jerry's Deli.

Excuse me, I mixed it up. The name is actually Jerry's Famous Deli. I didn't know it was famous, I was just hungry for a chicken ceasar salad, and it looked like a good place to eat at.

So I grab a seat at the counter, and I'm ready to place my order. I'm just minding my own business when the guy next to me takes a sip of his chocolate shake, and lets out this long happy moan, like he just drank a bit of heaven. Without missing a beat, I tell the waitress "I'll have what he's having!"

He turns my way, and tells me : "Very funny kid. You know that's a famous line from one of my movies!"

Turns out the guy sitting next to me, having a love affair with his chocolate shake is Billy Crystal! and we had just unwittingly reenacted that famous scene from When Harry Met Sally!

Billy and I hit it off instantly! He even pays for my lunch, which saves me the embarrassment of begging the waitress to let me wash dishes because I don't have any money!

Billy asks me what I do with my time. I tell him that I am an actor, and I have been hanging out on Hollywood Boulevard trying to get discovered by Jimmy Kimmel Live.

Billy likes my "moxy", and he tells me that I'm in the right spot, because on Hollywood Boulevard, at the Kodak Theatre, is where they host the Academy Awards! Even better, its directly across the street from Jimmy Kimmel Live!!

The Academy Awards is Hollywood's biggest event of the year, and Billy Crystal used to be it's king. He is one of the most beloved Oscar hosts, hosting the show eight times! But he hasn't done it for several years now.

He confides to me that he thinks the Academy lost his number. Boy Hollywood can be a tough town.

But Billy has the same indomitable spirit as me. He tells me that he plans on crashing this year's ceremony and make a splashy comeback!

He sees that I am so hungry for stardom and just fearless enough to go with him to crash the Oscars. We form a plan to meet on the day of the ceremony. He tells me to dress sharp, and be ready to dazzle, charm, and schmooze our way into the party.

So now I need a tux! I don't have money for a chicken ceasar salad, a tux is really going to stretch it! But I'm creative. This isn't going to stop me from making it to Hollywood's biggest night!

True to form, it doesn't take me long to figure out where I can borrow a nice suit that won't be missed for a couple of hours. The mortuary!

I recently took a tour of Hollywood's Forest Lawn Memorial Park, a cemetery holding a lot of famous celebrities who are now laid to rest. I figure their mortuary should have some nicely dressed man who won't mind if I borrow his suit for a couple of hours.

When I get to the mortuary I totally luck out! At my first try, I find Mr. Goldfrarb, who happens to be about my size, and is wearing a tuxedo! Jackpot! I know it's a bit extreme, maybe gross, but come on! It's not like he's going anywhere, and if I plan it right, I can get to ceremony, have a great time, and then return the suit before anyone realizes I borrowed it!

Besides, when I take his suit, I switch his clothes with mine. I'll bet Mr. Goldfarb never looked so stylish!

So, as you can see in the webisode ~"buster goes to the oscars!" I get to our meeting spot, and Billy is a no-show.!

I still make the most of it, even though I'm forced to stay on the other side of the fence from the ceremony.

I do get to see Steven Cojocaru, or "Cujo" from that entertainment news show, and I can tell he's a little jealous of me filming.

"Cujo"

I also see a badly dressed Meryl Streep (as usual), the Good Year Blimp floated over, and of course I'm in front of The El Capitan Theatre, which is the home Jimmy Kimmel Live!, but I never do see Billy!

I ask Meryl to help me get in, but she's trying to find her own way in. She wasn't in a movie this year, so the Academy forgot to send her an invite. Besides, she's dressed like a frumpy housewife, yet again, and I don't want that to cramp my style!

Finally I get desperate. After waiting so long to get in, I decide to pull out my trump card...

I helped my friend Consuela clean houses a couple of days ago, because she cleans for the stars. Unbeknownst to her, I "borrowed" Kim Basinger's Oscar. I didn't think she would miss it for a day or two. I mean she doesn't do much with it. Plus I'm sure she would want to help out another starving actor.

I figure holding an actual Oscar trumps any ticket or press pass to get me in, but I wanted to save that for desperate measures. At this point, I'm desperate!

With the Oscar in hand, I try again to get in, but to no avail. I even contemplate climbing the fence with Kim's Oscar. That's when security jumps in.

Same story as always! Security "asking" me to leave! Bummer.

They send me all the way down the street.

Oh well, I'm still in Hollywood, and there's always next year!

Besides, I gotta return Kim's Oscar, and Mr. Goldfarb's tux. Anyway, the Oscar is heavy, and I'm getting sick of smelling like formaldehyde, mixed with "old man."

p.s. It turns out Billy made it to the Oscars after all! In a top secret stunt, he showed up at the Ceremony doing a bit honoring Bob Hope.

Good for you Billy! You could have called me though!!

Ah well. Stay tuned friends to see if being so close to Oscar gold did anything for my chances at getting discovered by Jimmy Kimmel.

Incidentally, Jimmy K had an amazing post Oscar show himself!

Only time will tell when I get to be a part of his #1 show...

Love from Hollywood

~ buster