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March 26, 2008

Days of our Fugs

I'm sure it's hard working on a soap opera on which you are required to fall in love with your uncle, even though he's more or less your age and not actually a BLOOD-RELATED uncle because your grandparents adopted him. He's still Uncle Max, and that ought to make it really hard for you, as an actress, to understand what your motivation is when you're asked to pass him the stuffing at Thanksgiving.

But that is no reason to lose your mind and forget that it is your on-screen FATHER who has the eye patch, and not you. And even his one working eye could tell that the unflattering pants/childlike-shirt combo has eaten your waist and come back for seconds. No, this won't do at ALL. You've got to brush off the complexities of your day job -- even if that job requires you to tell everyone over and over again, "Well, I mean, he's my ADOPTIVE uncle. It doesn't COUNT" -- and look as fabulous as possible. Or at the very least, run behind the poster and untuck your shirt.

Posted by Heather at 01:24 PM | Permalink


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