My dad refuses to let me evade my taxes this year, which while civically responsible is mildly annoying. After raking it in by scrubbing toilets last year, I'm sure I owe the American government a copious amount of money. I hope they give it to the AIG CEO--he needs a new chopper, really really badly.
Our accountant doesn't speak the English very well, so I'm having a hard time figuring out if/when/how I need to pay Hong Kong taxes. If I don't blog for a few weeks, I've been taken into custody by the HK police force. All will be well. I'll charm them with my Canto skills.
I received an email from a student who saw one of our shows and this is an exact quote:
"I was very impressed with your fluent Cantonese..."
FLUENT! That's right. Actually, that's flatly wrong, but at least I created an illusion. I'm an actor, that's my job.
So now I have a new tutee. I don't have any old tutees, so I guess I have my first tutee. Now I'm just typing "tutee" because it makes immature people like myself snicker.
Gary the Tutee and I will begin tutorial lessons in English starting after the Easter holiday. I will likely be going to Vietnam for Easter, which may not seem apropos, but if you've seen "Platoon" and remember Willem Defoe's character, it makes sense. No plans are set yet--Joan and I will go to a travel agent today to scour the cheap flights--to anywhere, really. Anywhere except Nebraska.
Quick list of memorable names of my dear "panel students":
Orange
Money
Michael 2.0
Nightmare
Fat Fat
Bunny A
--and those are just from today...
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8 comments:
You need to do some time in prison. All good actors and writers have. This is your chance!
Prison is good, but the every great writer needs to spend several years at sea. I'm thinking I'll stow away on a tanker and spend a dreadful decade or so in perilous pursuit of my true self amidst a vast, unyielding, and angry sea. Noble in Lit here I come!
Make that...Nobel.
I think I just sealed my fate of never receiving one.
Maybe you could surpass Joseph Conrad as The, Mother's, favourite author. Although I'm not sure you could write anything so engaging as Arrow of Gold. Perhaps Mother could regale us with her most inspiring Conrad quote?
Joseph Conrad? OK. Now you guys are scaring me.
KB
Don't worry, Mr. Bradbury, our mother only pretends that Joseph Conrad is her favorite author.
It's like when I say that William H. Macy is my favorite actor.
It would seem that a person who appears to have an endless amount of time to make clever rejounders on the weblog would also have time to submit her tax information to
The,
Dad.
Have you checked your electronic mail inbox, The, Dad?
All pertinent information should be present there.
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