I used to live in Shreveport LA where weirdly enough they shot a bunch of major motion pictures after production was moved there from New Orleans after hurricanes Katrina and Rita. One day I was walking to work downtown and outside my office building I passed a really scabbishly-dressed and overly made-up prostitute (not a common sight there). I kind of scowled at her and she gave me a what-the-fuck-is-wrong-with-you look as I passed by and went into the building. When I got to the office everybody was lined up at the windows and they told me that I had apparently walked through a movie set and that had been Demi Moore dressed as a prostitute (it was some movie with Kevin Costner playing a serial killer). They were all kind of outraged that I had interfered with the filming but I had the same attitude towards it that you did with Clooney. Like, why the fuck am I supposed to be happy about a film production interfering with my existence? I didn’t get any money out of the deal, and it wasn’t even a good movie.
I think this story would be so much funnier if you would have tried to negotiate prostitute rates with Demi Moore, who in turn was confused because her rates for her work were set in stone with contracts and agents. Meanwhile, she doesn’t even know what you’re suggesting.
And while small, almost nonexistant, there IS still the chance that her husband would have gotten involved. At the time? That would be Bruce Willis.
I cannot contain my giggles as I imagine your confusion why Bruce Willis cares what price you pay a prostitute.
I don’t remember if she was still married to Bruce Willis at this point, which was 2006 or thereabouts, but she was hanging out with Ashton Kutcher in Shreveport because I kept encountering the couple at restaurants and bars. Also had dinner with Ted Danson one evening because he was sitting alone at the table next to me and my friends reading a paperback book and looking sad and lonely so we invited him to join us - he’s actually a nice, normal, friendly guy.
I used to live in Shreveport LA where weirdly enough they shot a bunch of major motion pictures after production was moved there from New Orleans after hurricanes Katrina and Rita. One day I was walking to work downtown and outside my office building I passed a really scabbishly-dressed and overly made-up prostitute (not a common sight there). I kind of scowled at her and she gave me a what-the-fuck-is-wrong-with-you look as I passed by and went into the building. When I got to the office everybody was lined up at the windows and they told me that I had apparently walked through a movie set and that had been Demi Moore dressed as a prostitute (it was some movie with Kevin Costner playing a serial killer). They were all kind of outraged that I had interfered with the filming but I had the same attitude towards it that you did with Clooney. Like, why the fuck am I supposed to be happy about a film production interfering with my existence? I didn’t get any money out of the deal, and it wasn’t even a good movie.
I think this story would be so much funnier if you would have tried to negotiate prostitute rates with Demi Moore, who in turn was confused because her rates for her work were set in stone with contracts and agents. Meanwhile, she doesn’t even know what you’re suggesting.
And while small, almost nonexistant, there IS still the chance that her husband would have gotten involved. At the time? That would be Bruce Willis.
I cannot contain my giggles as I imagine your confusion why Bruce Willis cares what price you pay a prostitute.
I don’t remember if she was still married to Bruce Willis at this point, which was 2006 or thereabouts, but she was hanging out with Ashton Kutcher in Shreveport because I kept encountering the couple at restaurants and bars. Also had dinner with Ted Danson one evening because he was sitting alone at the table next to me and my friends reading a paperback book and looking sad and lonely so we invited him to join us - he’s actually a nice, normal, friendly guy.