Jun 25, 2006 21:18
There's a one-page on me in one of the latest gossip rags. Star, Enquirer, Globe, one of those. I never really pay much attention to which is which, to be honest. It's about my horrible behavior on the set of Entourage, which can be seen on HBO.
Hey, I gotta get the plugs in, man. Part of the deal. I'm amazed that they haven't made me wear a crew jacket to every appearance I go to.
So, supposedly, I'm some kind of horrible nightmare Frankensteinian method actor. I'm living Ari, and not just playing him. I'm apparently groping reporters, sticking my tongue down the throat of defenseless extras. Give it time, I'm sure that there's going to be a report coming any time now that I'm hiding Osama Bin Laden in my basement.
It makes for good copy, but it's simply not true. Now, I'll admit to having an eye for the young ladies that come through our show. I never touched Mandy Moore, or Emmanuelle Chriqui. I have had the occasional date with an extra here and there, but you find me someone who hasn't. Go ahead, I dare you. You'll have to look long and hard to find an actor (or an actress, come to think of it) who hasn't used their position to get a date or two. Sit down and shut up if you're thinking of stepping up and claiming that you've never done it. Everyone who's had a boyfriend or a girlfriend introduced to them by their publicist, congratulations, you're abusing your fame. Believe me, it's not just a natural thing to do, it's the main thing that being famous is for, for God's sake. You think Neve Campbell would have ever given my boy Cusack a second look if he wasn't John Cusack, if he was just some shlub that worked in a record store?
Don't you believe it.