My arm itched. It itched worse than a million mosquito bites put together all in one place. It itched like a burning fire and there was no way, no matter how much itch-relief gunk I put on it that that fire was going to be put it. Not to mention we had a photo shoot that day.
It took about an hour of itching before the first red streaks of blood appeared on my arm. Three nice pretty crimson lines. Ah, so now I was bleeding and STILL felt no relief from this Satan-sent pain. So I’m walking off of our bus, itching my arm feverishly and what happens? Ok, my arm itches and I’ve scratched it to the point of blood. That’s still no reason to explode. Literally.
See, our make up artist has this zit. She’s had it for about two months now and it is the most annoying thing in the world. It is right above her left eye.
Apparently she also has a twitching problem. I walk in, with my bloody arm, and her eye starts to twitch. And twitch. And with each twitch of her eye that zit feels the strain until finally she has twitched her last and she slaps her hand to her forehead in pain as the zit explodes. Hmm... today is not my day.
She sort of glares at my arm and for a minute it looks like she’s about to kill me. She lets all four of the others go past put keeps her eyes glued on my arm. Her eye has started to twitch again and it’s really beginning to annoy me. She shoves me down in the seat and all I can do is sit and stare at her. And she picks up my arm and proceeds to scream at me that she is a make-up artist not a nurse and then starts to swear in French because, no duh, she’s French.
So I’m sitting there, listening to her cuss in some incomprehensible language and humming to This I Promise You because the filming was two days ago when Justin walks over with his hair done up all perfect and holding his bottle of coke in one hand. Of course, what better coaster for a coke than Lance hair? So now I have some psychotic cussing at me in French, an icy cold coke on my head, and my arm still freakin’ itches!
Justin is now flirting with Lulu- our make up manager-. He’s saying some weird things in French that I’m sure he has no idea the meaning of. It turns out that he called her a camel gizzard. So then she starts swearing again because there’s a big red hand mark across Justin’s cheek and she’s going to have to cover that up too. Meanwhile Justin’s coke has spilled onto my hair, supplying it with a brownish hue and sticky coating. I begin to wonder now how many cuss words their are in French, because I’m sure Lulu must’ve screamed all of them by now. Joey decides that now would be a perfect time to save the day in his normal Super Man fashion and “flies” towards the scene of chaos.
Chris loves bananas, whether it’s his strange relation to primates or some fascination of potassium I’m not quite sure. Joey slips and falls flat on his head on one of the peels that Chris so conveniently dropped on the floor. Tears slide down his face and Lulu’s eyebrow starts to peel off from the amount of twitching it’s gone through. The ulcers- all five of them-- yes, I can count them. I pinprick of pain their, a pocket of acid here and there you go! And right now I have five of them so I have five ulcers---in my stomach are starting to ache and my arm still itches. I reach my hands toward it to give it a little scratch. Lulu has gone into her wild boar phase again. Her teeth come down on my hand and bite down hard.
I scream. Teeth in flesh hurt. I shake my hand but Lulu still clings on to my arm. She reminds me of those dainty French poodles you always see hanging onto people’s ankles. I could call her a French female dog but decide against it considering her current mood. Super Joey is still down on the floor crying but my apparent danger seems to brighten up his mood as he realizes, hey, I could save Lance! So I’m stuck with Joey tugging on my arm, the one that still desperately itches and have Lulu digging her teeth into my other hand. Ah, isn’t life just peachy?
What is Justin doing at this moment you ask? Justin is over by the mirror. He is admiring Dolo right now.
Yes, he has named his curls. Each and every one of them. Dolo is one of the curls that he favors, hanging just above his left ear. He almost had a heart attack this morning when one of his precious curls was destroyed beneath his head and the pillow. He is running his hand over Dolo currently and I roll my eyes at him while still screaming at the pain in my arms. Justin stares at himself for a little bit longer, being the narcissist that he is. Then he is attracted by a new stench.
Ah, my crack addict. My wonderfully high drug busted brother. JC has pulled out one of his many forms of crack from the enormous shoes that he always seems to wear. The outside of his nostrils have that deceiving white dust all around them. Justin comes over and pats his ‘homeboy’ on the back. God, you know, my arm really itches.
I have now found a way to keep Lulu quiet. My fingers seem to be a wonderful chew toy for her despite the obvious pain it is causing me. If her job hadn’t been on the line I would have considered it funny. Joey is still pulling on my arm, trying to ‘save me’ from the evil wrath of Lulu. Speaking of Lulu I have just discovered that Lulu isn’t a girl at all. The wig she had been wearing previously has fallen off now and I am not at all pleased to see the REAL Lou hiding beneath the clothes of a woman.
Now does this really surprise anyone that our own Pearlman would turn into a cross dresser? Of course not.
A small trickle of coke has found it’s way down my face now. I look into the mirror and see only the back of Lulu- Lou’s tutu. A shove him back out of the way so I can get a clear view of myself in the mirror. The coke has made a clear line down my face, obscuring most of my nose. Now if only this line had obscured my face I would call it a mock representation of my solo work over the past four years. But as it was it would have to leave be and represent my body, tearing down the middle as I am hopelessly tugged by Joey and Lou.
JC and Justin are sniffing crack. Joey is trying to save me, and Lou is trying.. I’m not sure what he’s trying to do but my leg is getting sore from the amount of pressure his lower half is putting on it. So what is Chris off to? You don’t want to know. Are you sure? You really want to know? Fine. But I did warn you.
Chris is sitting alone in the corner. No, He is not alone. My bad. He is alone as far as humanoid forms go. But Chris is not humanoid now is he? Nah. Have you ever wondered why we bring Busta on tour? Busta is not Chris’ dog. Busta is in fact Chris’ long lost family from the planet Zoki. He is making out whit his long lost family because for some reason it does not affect the Zokinian gene pool. Busta is doing to Chris much the same thing Lou is doing to me. The only difference was that Chris was very much enjoying this attention and I was down right disgusted by it.
I take this moment to inform you that I am straight.
Despite all of the rumors going around that me and my crack loving brother have something going on, I am straight. So I do not approve of Lou’s actions. I politely *cough cough* shove him off of my hand, and my leg and at the same time pushing Joey back against the wall. My foot sort of makes a squeejy noise as it slops through the rest of Justin’s coke. I itch my arm again and shove the crack JC was busy sniffing up his nose. He starts to cry and Super Joey goes over to comfort him, not at all put down by my insulting his heroism. Justin is offended that somebody else has takin’ a liking to his homebody and starts to get in a fight with Joey. Chris is still making out with Busta. I’m not sure what Lou is doing and I would rather not like to describe it.
I walk out of the photo shoot into the cold air and begin to nurse my finger. And even after it all...
My arm itched.
