A Little Yiddish

Oy Vey! That means something like Oy Yoy Yoy in Yiddish. Apparently, everyone in Hollywood needs to know a certain amount of Yiddish before they are permitted to climb the next rung on the corporate ladder. I know I'm not exactly Ryan Reynolds when it comes to my physique (did you see him in 'The Proposal?' The things I would do with that Schmedrick), but climbing this next rung is wearing poor Lloyd down.

But mental ladder-climbing is not why I exclaimed in Yiddish. Rather, I am troubled by the recent death wave that has hit Hollywood. The dearly departed can now count among their numbers Farrah Fawcett, Ed McMahon, John Hughes, Frank McCourt, and, of course, the great Karl Malden! (Am I missing anyone?) Is it a modern-day Sodom and Gomorrah? Perhaps.

You may not think of me as such a morbid soul, but working one day, let alone four years, under Ari Gold can turn even the most docile of minds towards thoughts of doom. Oh, I can assure you, the Hollywood Death Brigade will not soon count Lloyd Lee among them. Nor will it claim Sir Ari Gold, as he is undead.

It's true. No mere mortal could possibly be as terrible as Ari Gold is. So what is Ari?

Is he a Vampire?
Pro: He is awake at odd hours. He is bloodthirsty. He attacks his prey and bleeds them bone dry. He is oddly seductive. His favorite color is black. I'm sure he has worn makeup in the past. He trembles at the sight of a crucifix.
Con: He loves steak and salty food. He spends way too much time in the sun (although he does blink a lot...)

Is he a Zombie?
Pro: I have recently seen him with severe bags under his eyes. He says its because the missus has been making him sleep on the couch...but is it actually the first sign of zombie decay? He has come back from being professionally dead, so that has to count for something.
Con: He talks and walks very fast, belying the classic, slow-stalk of the zombie. Zombies eat brains and I know for a fact that he shudders at the thought of sweetbreads.

Is he an Alien?
Pro: I have worked for him for four years and I have never met his family, perhaps a sign that they left him on this planet? He is always drinking water, which was a character trait of the aliens in 'The Faculty' (though water killed the aliens in 'Signs'...maybe this point is neutral). He has extra sensory perception about where I am and what I am doing.
Con: I have always believed that aliens, when and if they touch down on Earth, will be more of the 'E.T.'/'Close Encounters' variety than of the 'Independence Day'/'Invasion of the Body Snatchers' mold.

Is he...Human?
Pro: He has largely human features. He seems to breathe our air. 99% of the meals I've seen him eat consist of foods humans generally eat. He procreated with another human, though I have always found it hard to believe that his two lovely children were biologically his. I have seen, on occasion, Ari show an ability to love.
Con: Despite all the evidence above, no human being I have ever known is as monstrous, venomous, destructive, vindictive, abusive, belittling, dishonest or discourteous as Mr. Ari Gold. If he is, in fact, human, he is a singular member of the species.

What do you think? Could he be something that I missed? Perhaps a time-traveler from a dark, distant future? A shape-shifting Lycan? An undercover agent for a foreign regime intent on breaking the spirit of Hollywood?

Oh, I don't know. But what I do know is, he's one bad entity.


What other positions am I qualified for?


Take this job and...I sat myself down and did some serious career counseling. What other positions am I qualified for? (Hold the Ari "wide receiver" jokes.)


An Educated Man

Hello, dear friends.

I am an educated man. I went to a highly-regarded university and a top business school. I am articulate, proper, professional and well-groomed. I turned down offers from major Wall Street banks, hedge funds, private equity groups and my father, the vintner. Instead, I opted to be, as Ari reminds me ad nauseum, a lowly Hollywood assistant, holding fast to the fading hope that I will one day be a high-powered, in-demand power broker.

While my salary is pennies compared to those offers from the business world, I have acquired several skills I cannot imagine are taught in the financial institutions of New York, London or Hong Kong. Below are just a few of the skills I have unexpectedly acquired while at the Miller/Gold Agency:

Espionage — Most movie spies are fleet of foot and muscle-strong. They trek to far off locales and they have mastery of various weapons and an innate ability to operate any vehicle on any terrain. I, on the other hand, am neither fleet nor fierce. I have been out of the Pacific Time Zone once since the late 90s. The only weapon I've ever used is a letter opener and I have six points on my license. Despite this, I have evolved into one of the finer spies in the world. Just last week, for instance, I observed and reported the attempted poaching of one of Ari's most important clients by a slimy rival agent at an IHOP in the Valley. Without this information, Ari would not have been able to thwart the attempted poacher, nor would he have been able to alert the town that the rival agent drives a Kia. Blackmail — Ari has taught me that everybody has something they want to keep under wraps, you just have to look closely. A big-time director refused to consider one of Ari's clients for the lead in his new movie. As soon as said director received photos of him leaving an all-male revue in South Beach, the role of Marvel's newest superhero was being offered to a 5'4" soap opera star. Intimidation — I've learned that the threat of violence is acceptable in business. And that, occasionally, the threat needs to be carried out. Now, I am not the most violent soul. In fact, I might be the least violent person I know. But, I'll let you in on a little secret: Ari is not a violent person either. He just screams and rants and raves and flips out to give the impression that he will cut your intestines out and feed them to you (that's a direct quote). Perception, I've learned, is 90% of the battle. The other 10% is the will to actually hit a guy when you need to. I'm working on the second part. Maybe I'll get boxing lessons when I'm an agent. If I am ever an agent. Creative Degradation — Ari has also taught me, through no particular effort on his part, that any English word can be used to create a new and horribly offensive racial or ethnic slur. Here are a few I've come up with on the spot using a random word generator: Random Word: Burger.
Insult: Ass Burger.
Used in a sentence: "Hey, I'm going to get some fast food, you want me to bring you back some? Oh, I forgot, they don't have Ass Burgers." Random Word: Extortion.
Insult: Anal Extortion.
Used in a Sentence: "Hey Lloyd, Jim here is a lawyer. Maybe he can defend you on those anal extortion charges." Random Word: Swim
Insult: Semen Swim
Used in a Sentence: "Lloyd, maybe I'll let you leave early while the sun's still out and you can get in a semen swim." Random Word: Priestess
Insult: High Priestess of Guy-Intology
Used in a Sentence: "Lloyd is very religious. In fact, he's the High Priestess in the Church of Guy-Intology. He's gay."

As you can see, it's impossible not to be happy with the residual benefits of my career choice. Who needs money when you can learn to be a monstrous jerk?!

Until next week, this is Jerk-In-Training, Lloyd Lee, signing off.


How Do You Do It?

Every day, people ask me, "Lloyd, how do you do it? How do you keep your spirits up in the face of such verbal abuse?" Well, here's the secret to my success - enjoy!



144 grapes


That's all I can muster. Six days, 144 grapes. That's all I've had.

Well, it's not all I've had. I've had water, of course. And Diet Coke — no calories there! And celery. You actually burn more calories digesting celery than you consume ingesting it, so that has to be legal. And an In-N-Out Burger. And fries. And an Arnold Palmer. And a free refill.

Have you ever dieted? It is SO HAAARRD. I've done all the right things. I eat on small, dark plates (you feel fuller faster). I make lists detailing why I don't actually want a Choco Taco. I even have put a picture of me in nothing but my skivvies as my Blackberry screen saver as motivation. Still, it's killing me!

And Tom! My mood swings from miserable monster to deathly sloth to hungry hippo! And my sex drive? Nada. Zilch. Perhaps it's because I haven't eaten, and perhaps it is because Ari has made me reconsider what Tom really thinks of my, well, of my body, but I just can't do it.

UGH! I'm not all that out of shape, right? So, I may have put on a few around the midsection, but I prefer to think of it more as an irresistible Buddha Belly than a ghastly Spare Tire. But, dear readers, what if I am more Aretha than Beyoncé?

There's gotta be a better way, right? I could try Atkins, but then I'd be eating nothing other than meat. And as much as I like meat, I've read that it causes one to emit odorous fumes. I know, just gross.

I could go to Weight Watchers. But it seems like such a production. I have to meet with a counselor. And talk about how I got fat and what I'm going to do to get thin. I think you have to wear a name tag talking about how you got fat. Well, at least that's what they did in 'Sex In The City.' Remember, Miranda's was "Baby Weight." Yeah...right...girl. Try "Haagen Dazs." But I digress...

I could vomit. No one really likes to vomit, but many successful, famous people apparently do. Now, supposedly science says it doesn't help you lose weight, but common sense says it does. Still, it feels so Lifetime Movie, right? Like this one movie I saw, with Meredith Baxter-Birney, where she'd attack a dessert tray and then throw up. Oh, it was horrible, she'd like have pudding and frosting all over her face then cry then puke. I almost want to vomit thinking about that movie. All 80's movies sort of make me queasy. So, vomiting is out. Too 80's.

Then, of course, there's liposuction. Everything about liposuction sounds so awesome. You lose all this weight — all this fat — without doing a thing. Considering I despise all forms of physical activity, this is the weight loss solution for me. Except of course for one thing. No one has figured out a reasonable way to solve the loose-skin-problem...And until they find a way to give you liposuction without giving you a skin skirt, I'm not interested.

So, I suppose its grapes for Lloyd. "Grapes for Lloyd." Looks like someone has a new working title for his memoirs!


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