Nobodies Read online

  9:06PM

  sorry, i just realized my “better looking in person/fifty pounds” comment (from my email sent at 8:53) could be misinterpreted. i didnt mean you normally (or even sometimes) look bad. youre hot. perma-hot. youre so hot, im surprised youre not on fire. literally. someone should set you on fire, just to prove my point. (tee-hee.)

  9:08PM

  PS i apologise for the “hahahahaha” (in my email sent at 9:01). as i said, ive had a few drinks. and i forgot to take my meds this evening. its no big deal, but i sometimes get a little nutzo if i dont strike the right balance.

  9:09PM

  oh, and in regards to my “someone should set you on fire” comment (from my email sent at 9:06), i didnt mean someone should literally set you on fire. even though i literally said literally. im not an arsonist. just so we’re clear on that.

  9:14PM

  and in case you were wondering, i got your email address from the bald guy by the bar, the one who kept staring at you. he said he was a friend of elaines, and elaine knew marty (your agent), and marty had given it to elaine. so dont worry. i didnt steal it, or find it online, or have someone killed. im legit, and the person who gave it to me is legit, and so are the people who gave it to him . . . but i cant blame you for being careful. there are a lot of crazy people out there.

  9:16PM

  just for the record, i dont think youre crazy. ive been watching the news, and (as usual) the folks at cnn have blown this way out of proportion. i mean, yes, you were driving pretty fast in a residential area, and, yes, you did have a blood alcohol level of 0.2, and, sure, you almost killed an old lady on her porch, but who hasnt made mistakes in their life? everyones so judgmental these days . . .

  9:30PM

  random question: is F & F as great as people think? or does it just remind you how alone and impoverished you really are?

  9:38PM

  (F & F means fame and fortune, by the way.)

  9:43PM

  this is a little embarrassing, but i have a poster of you in my bedroom, and my mother wants me to take it down. she doesnt think its healthy for a twenty six year old woman to have a poster of a movie star, but i told her youre an artist, and artists deserve to be worshipped, and if she touches it ill put her in a home.

  anyway, thats all for tonight. sweet dreams. xoxo

  9:45PM

  in case youre curious, its the poster from “gravedigger blues.” the one where youre shirtless, holding the shovel, with the zombies in the background. i have a few posters from “blinker” and “desdemona drunk” that show off your . . . other qualities, but i like this one for the badass look.

  9:46PM

  PS i noticed your jeans in the “gravedigger blues” poster have an unusually large bulge below the belt . . . ive heard people stuff socks down there to enhance their manhood, but im sure your manhood is mucho plump, sans-sock ;)

  FRIDAY, MAY 27—9:30AM

  I owe you an apology. I just read my d-mails from last night, and I can’t believe what I wrote. I’m so embarrassed. I have a tendency to drink after a long day, and since I’m a lightweight, I have a tendency to get drunk . . . Anyway, I hope you can forgive my silliness.

  Sam

  10:46AM

  I forgot to mention when we met how much your work means to me. I was just so flustered and star-struck. (I don’t meet my heroes very often!) To put things mildly, your movies remind me why movies are made. I know that sounds clichéd, but it’s true. I don’t know how you do what you do, but you do it better than anyone else, so please keep doing it. “Blinker” was incredible, my first cinematic love, and you somehow managed to top it with “Desdemona Drunk.” Then “Catalyst,” then “Gravedigger Blues,” then “The Rusty Bulb.” Each one better than the last. “The Rusty Bulb,” especially. Don’t listen to the critics. I didn’t think it was pretentious, indulgent, derivative, and pseudo-intellectual. Or “Catalyst” for that matter. I’m not sure why people thought your accent was off. I’m no expert—I’ve never been to Bulgaria—but it worked for me! And your tour-de-force performance in “Gravedigger.” Unbelievable. How the hell did you pull that off? And how did you not get an Oscar nomination, let alone a statue? My God. Don’t even get me started on the Academy. It’s all politics. They’re just afraid to support an actor with a criminal record. (I thought that verdict was BS too by the way. Six months with no parole? That judge was on a power trip. He just wanted to make an example of you.) Fuck the haters, man. Fuck em.

  6:27PM

  (I hope this is the right email address. I mean, the bald guy just wrote it down on a napkin, and his writing isn’t that great. I haven’t received one of those delivery failure notifications yet, so I’m going to assume everything’s fine. [email protected] seems a bit generic for someone of your stature, but the bald guy seemed pretty confident about Elaine and Marty, so if someone screwed up, it was probably them, not the bald guy. Although the bald guy was pretty drunk, so who knows . . .)

  SATURDAY, MAY 28—5:45AM

  i was just reading the youtube comments for your charlie rose interview . . . i thought what killa877 said about your nose was disgusting. and hollabackgurlllll. christ, what a bitch. dont listen to those creeps. bigbooty69 was so right. your elbows are lovely.

  10:32AM

  Hey, sorry about the message from last night. (Or, more accurately, this morning.) I need to stop drinking after work.

  10:34AM

  I hope I didn’t offend you somehow or scare you off. I promise I’m a normal, sane person. If you’re not up for hanging out, that’s fine, but please let me know either way. I’ll totally respect your decision.

  3:46PM

  I googled your email address along with your name, and I discovered, after four hours of digging, that [email protected] is the right email address after all. Which means you’re ignoring me. Like most people, I don’t enjoy being ignored. It’s rude and uncalled for, and I think I’m entitled to an apology. Or, at the very least, a response.

  3:49PM

  Look, I can understand why you’d be apprehensive about corresponding with someone who is practically a stranger. But I’m not a stranger. We shared a genuine moment at that party. Yes, it only lasted a few minutes, but they were minutes that meant something. With you, a few seconds is more than enough. And I know you felt the same thing.

  So what do you say? How about we grab a coffee and go from there?

  SUNDAY, MAY 29—3:47PM

  I’m not very impressed by how you’re handling this . . .

  5:09PM

  I’m not mad. I’m just a bit frustrated that you won’t respond. I mean, it’s basic common courtesy. I don’t mind being rejected, but I can’t stand being ignored. So tell me to go away. Tell me to piss off. I don’t care. Just tell me something.

  5:10PM

  Better yet, don’t tell me anything. Reply with a blank message. That way, at least I’ll know you’re listening.

  8:34PM

  You’re really not going to respond, are you? Why? What the hell did I say that was soooooooo horrible?

  8:57PM

  Look, I’m sorry, okay? Can we start over? I’m just having a bad day. Some hobo threw a McFlurry at me.

  9:04PM

  I mean, in the grand scheme of things, this is all so silly. Maybe it’ll be one of those stories we tell our kids!

  9:05PM

  (Haha. Jk. Wink. (Actually, I’m not kidding. (Don’t worry, I’m totally kidding . . .)))

  11:14PM

  What do I have to say to get you to respond? I’ve already apologized. You want me to call you names? You want me to threaten you? If you want me to act like a lunatic, I will. Not a problem. You seem to have me all figured out. I’m more than happy to conform to your assumptions. You know what? I’ll even start drinking. Give me ten minutes, and I’ll come back wasted.
Then we’ll see who’s ready to talk.

  11:43PM

  apologies, im a few minutes late. those last few shots didnt go down so well . . .

  where was i? oh yeah. acting crazy. you know what? im too tired for this shit. lets pick it up again in the morning.

  sleep well, dick.

  MONDAY, MAY 30—10:04AM

  Okay, I’m back! Well-rested, sober, and ready to go!

  Before I dive into the personal stuff, I’d just like to say a few things . . .

  Over the course of our correspondence, I may have given you the impression that I admire your work. If that’s the case, I sincerely apologize, and I’d like to take this opportunity to clarify my position.

  Point 1: You suck.

  Sure, your early stuff was okay. I’m big enough to admit that. But GOD was it overrated. I mean, yeah, “Blinker” was decent. The scene with the driving instructor, the speech about bagels, the ear plug montage—all good stuff. The scuba sequence was a little contrived, but still enjoyable. The pool hall scene, on the other hand . . . What the hell were you thinking? And don’t blame the script or the director. You fucked up and you know it. Everyone knows it. But you have a pretty face and a cute butt, so we all forgave you.

  Point 2: You’re not a director.

  Case and point: “The Rusty Bulb.”Who told you that was a good idea? You can hardly act, and now you want to direct? Who do you think you are? Orson Welles? Get off your high horse and join the rest of us on Earth. You remember Earth? That place where you used to pick up your pay check? Come back to it. (Actually, don’t. No one misses you.)

  Christ, just thinking about “The Rusty Bulb” makes me want to punch an orphan. What a pile of pretentious, indulgent, derivative, pseudo-intellectual trash. More importantly, what a waste of fifteen bucks. Not to mention two hours of my life. (Two-and-a-half, if you include travel time.) I still don’t know how that piece of shit got into Cannes . . .

  Correction: I know exactly how it got into Cannes. Nepotism. Your name. That’s it. No artistic merit. Just Hollywood clout. Well, I’ve got news for you: not everything you say and think and do is brilliant. In fact, most of it (around 98 percent) is total garbage, and you might want to take that into consideration before you get behind another camera.

  Point 3: You’re full of shit.

  You pretend to be this great humanitarian, but your charity gives like ten bucks to African kids. (I looked it up.) You’re worse than an asshole, my friend. You’re a fraud. You’re a fucking scam-artist. I hope you realize that, because if you don’t you should see a doctor. Delusions of that magnitude are dangerous.

  10:48AM

  P.S. I take back what I said about the “unusually large bulge” on my poster. It’s totally photoshopped, not to mention sock-stuffed . . .

  10:52AM

  P.P.S. I saw that picture in US Weekly, the one taken at the beach . . . (And don’t blame it on shrinkage. Water’s cold, but it’s not THAT cold.)

  11:23AM

  What, no comeback?

  11:25AM

  Come on. You’re no fun.

  11:34AM

  Fine. Whatever. I’m done.

  Have a nice life, asshole. 1:12PM

  And don’t even bother apologizing. I’m not going to listen. You had your chance, and you blew it. (Don’t say I didn’t warn you.)

  1:46PM

  Hey, did you just try to email me? I got an email from [email protected], and it was blank. Are you fizzlecrackerrrr? And, if so, would you mind saying a bit more than nothing?

  1:48PM

  I replied to the fizzlecrackerrrr message, just in case it’s from you. I don’t know why you’d reply with a different account and leave your message blank, but I’m sure you have your reasons . . . (Or maybe you’re not fizzlecrackerrrr, in which case I owe fizzle-crackerrrr an apology . . .)

  2:31PM

  fizzlecrackerrrr just replied. He/she offered me a free trip to the Bahamas. All I have to do is give him/her my credit card information . . .

  2:58PM

  Still not talking, eh? Have it your way.

  8:54PM

  its your loss. im doing just fine without you. youre the one with the meaningless life. who cares how much money you make? if anything, F & F just makes life harder . . .

  8:57PM

  you know what? im glad youre turning me down. im actually grateful. youre probably needy and clingy and insecure, and thats the last thing i need right now . . .

  9:12PM

  i actually understand you. do you realize how rare that is? in this messed up world? to find someone who really understands you?

  im not even mad anymore. i just feel bad for you. im sexy and smart and accomplished, and i have tons of friends (probably more than you), and everyone i know worships the ground I walk on. im not just a pretty face. i actually have a soul. i have a mind. im the complete fucking package.

  seriously. you should see the guys ive slept with . . . i wont name names. im above that gossipy shit. but theyre big. (and i mean big in every sense of the word, mr sock-stuffer . . .)

  9:14PM

  i could tell you if you really want to know, but youd have to promise not to tell anyone. two of them have been in movies with you . . .

  9:16PM

  do you want to know? ill tell you if you really want to know, but you have to ask.

  9:24PM

  okay then. youre loss. i guess youll just have to wonder for the rest of your life . . .

  9:27PM

  ill give you a hint. one of them has the initials J. P. any guesses?

  9:32PM

  (now, im just trying to fill up your inbox . . . im surprised you havent blocked me yet.)

  9:34PM

  wanna do a shot? 9:35PM

  no? okay, more for me. seven and counting . . .

  9:36PM

  i know where you live btw. just fyi.

  9:39PM

  kidding.

  10:18PM

  hey is it ok if we just start over and pretend this whole conversation didnt happen? im willing to forgive and forget if you are.

  10:20PM

  look i really want us to be friends. if you dont want to go out with me thats okay. no biggie. but i really want us to be pals. we get along so well and we have so much in common and i really think we could be super awesome BFFs :)

  10:22PM

  but seriously it would be sooooo great if we could go out. just once. just to try it. i know you wont regret it. my fortune teller said were meant to be together. and shes always right. ive been seeing her for three months and she hasnt been wrong once. even my mother thinks we would make a nice couple. she said so last week. and my friends think so too. most of them anyway. kimmy doesnt think youre that hot but shes dating a guy in a wheelchair so what the hell does she know.

  11:23PM

  okay heres the deal if you say nothing when i say what im saying now that means you like me and you want to go out with me

  11:24PM

  yaaaaaay you didnt say anything so that means you like me yaaaaay so when do you wanna go out

  11:27PM

  tomorrow the next day the day after that

  11:34PM

  WHY WONT YOU TALK TO MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

  11:35PM

  sorry didnt mean to use caps i should really stop drinking so much im up to shot #12 and beer #3 i think its time for beddy what are you doing tomorrow wanna grab a hot dog or something

  11:37PM

  you know what im hungry now i really want chow mein and chocolate for some reason is that weird

  TUESDAY, MAY 31—12:04AM

  i cant believe youre still ignoring me how dare you do you even know who i am i could end your career with one phone call i know a guy from high school whos sup
er powerful and connected all i would need to do is call him up and tell him that i think youre an asshole and poof there goes your life

  12:16AM

  you know i wasnt kidding about knowing where you live if you wont talk to me here ill come to your house and talk to you there how does that sound

  12:23AM

  its a nice night for a drive i think ill go out for a bit

  12:24AM

  okay im leaving any last words

  12:26AM

  i want to forgive you i really do but youre making it very hard if you would just say something everything would be okay

  12:27AM

  last chance sweetie

  EXHIBIT B

  The following pages from Samantha Dorkin’s journal (entitled “Conquests”) were found in her basement behind the drier, next to a jar filled with hair samples and used condoms, each bearing the name of one of the following famous actors in permanent black marker.

  JAMES FRANCO

  Met at his place. Gave me a tour. Showed me his PhD, his paintings, his poetry book, his novel, his short story book, his one-man experimental performance art collage, “The Metatheatrical Selfie.” (Didn’t get it. Just a wall full of shirtless selfies.) Showed me the empty shelf where he plans to put his Oscar, his Pulitzers (“one for fiction, one for drama, one for poetry”) and his Nobel Peace Prize.

  Smoked weed. Talked about the books he wants to adapt. To Kill a Mockingbird “from the perspective of the mockingbird.” Don Quixote “set in Vegas.” Talked about all the gay poets he still wants to play. “Ginsberg and Hard Crane were just the beginning.” “Isn’t Hard Crane a porn star?” Shook his head. Asked if I wanted to see the broken tower. “Maybe later. Let’s get drunk first.” “It’s better sober.” “Don’t say that. I’m sure it’s great either way.” (It wasn’t.)

  COLIN FARRELL

  A true gentleman. Paid for movie, paid for dinner, paid for coke. Pledged to do a good film some day. “What about In Bruges?” “In what?” “You got a Golden Globe for it.” “Ah right. Sorry. Memory’s a tad spotty. I’ve been high since Alexander.”

  Played Truth or Dare. Dared me to braid his eyebrows. Then confessed secret lifelong dream “to accumulate millions while maintaining the lowest average Rotten Tomatoes score in history.” Worried about competition from Kevin Costner and Michael Bay.