I was in a Volkswagen commercial for the #PinkBeetle
Okay, so I was recently in a commercial for a the new Volkswagen Pink Beetle... First off, relax, because I was neither a principal nor was I in it for more than a half a second. And No, I didn’t have any speaking lines either. That would have to be some pretty fast talking for half a second… I mean, I guess that might make sense if the Pink Beetle was also a Micro Machine, remember them? God I used to love those tiny little things, although I also had an irrational fear that I’d somehow get one stuck up my nose and it would somehow travel (it is a vehicle after all) into my throat blocking my airway and causing me to choke to death not unlike countless other kids (mostly boys, it’s always boys, girls are much smarter, thank god I’m having a girl, yes I already know the sex, people who think we (my gf and I) are somehow weird for not waiting to find out the sex of our child can suck it, and yes there are parentheses inside of parentheses in this post because I CAN futhamucka, simply because I can.) OR, the tiny ‘Mirco Machine,’ might also go down my esophagus or as I like to call it, me gullet, and into my tummy where it would remain comfortably parked in a compact space between two very different brands of chewing gum that I’d swallowed earlier, either while working out, or while asleep, ahem while “passing out” at the end of a drunken night fueled by three too many Heinekens, or honestly shots of Fireball! ... WHAT? I-get-BROEY! But, I don’t mean it like the BROEY link suggests. (Yes, if you click on BROEY there is a link, but I don't mean BROEY like that) I mean it like, “bro-esque” ... BROEY just sounds better to me is all. NO, REALLY, NO, REALLY THAT’S ALL! OK? Yo, I said that’s all... Stop doing that thing with your eyebrows … aww come on, you’ve gotta believe me, i don’t do that, you know what? I’m just going to stop talking about it now).
ANYWAY, I’m not saying that I’m disappointed with that much of screen time because I’m not, I am actually quite encouraged. Because every ‘regular person’ gets their 15 minutes of fame, and I only used up half a second, got a free outfit, paid $80 bucks, and added another line to my sexy ass showbizz resume out of it… So, I’m doing okay with a split second of face time, I’ll get mine later. This type of shit happens everyday to everyone trying to do “this thing”, not to be confused with “Our thing,” and please don’t ever confuse those two things, please. But you’ve gotta do the work, you’ve gotta do your due diligence. There is no way around the 10,000 hours me friend. Nope, ain’t no way but working through time.
On the last episode of The Jellyvision Show we talked about timing, and I have been thinking about it a lot lately. I’ve been asking myself when it would be “my time,” much like the great combat athletes and rappers always say.
I’ve come to the conclusion that my time hasn’t come yet, and I can’t sit around waiting for it. YOU CAN’T WAIT FOR YOUR TIME TO COME. You must do you, be conscientious, gritty, and patient and your time will eventually come. I suggest acting as if you are DR. MANHATTAN when it comes to time, at least then you can feel like you’re a god.
Also, who needs fame? I just want to be a professional, being famous for being famous for doing nothing is WHACK as all get out. If you need any more advice, Don’t wait, make it happen. Like Mos Def said,
I earned what they said I wouldn't
I got it the way they said I couldn't
But now I'm gettin' it and their whole grill is crooked
Mad cause I'm getting caked out from my bookings
When ya'll was askin' permission I just stepped up and took it
What!? The kid's better buy my rookie card now
'Cause after this year the price ain't comin' down
And if you got a joint bubbling then get money now