Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Dear Christopher Guest,

Just in case you're reading my blogs I wanna say that although (or all though, depends on who's keeping score) you don't know me, I really like you. You make me laugh. Okay, with that being said I want to get to the reason I'm writing. While at the gym today I came up with the next mockumentary you should write. I could help you. I have experience. In 1996 I wrote G.I. Joan. It was about a chick in the military who had to fight her way through the system before she could prove herself in war. I didn't finish the script because I must have gotten distracted somewhere along the way. Could have been a cupcake, but whatever. So a year goes by and in 1997 the movie G.I. Jane was released. You may remember this one. Demi Moore plays a Navy Seal, fighting Master Chief and all the other men ("Suck my dick!", remember that line? funny.) to prove herself. Sound familiar? That's what I thought. I wrote that shit. I'm not accusing the writers of anything, for I was living in Lawrenceville (Pittsburgh) at the time and there's no way they were reading my notebooks. Speaking of, Danielle Alexandra hasn't done much since writing that script, whereas David Twohy has kept himself a little more busy. Me, on the other hand, I'm still waiting for my break.

Okay, another example of my experience... In 1986, at the age of 10, I wrote, in the back of my mind, the 4th Halloween. You'll love this for obvious reasons. So I thought Michael Myers should have a niece or nephew with whom he connects with but kinda wants to kill. Two years later, in 1988 Halloween 4 was released and guess what the plot was. Michael Myers returns to Haddonfield to kill his niece, but kinda feels a connection to her. Holy shite. So I know what I'm talking about.

Anyway, back to the script you should write. Another mockumentary, this time focusing on personal trainers and their clients, and their lives inside the gym. I think it should focus more on the clients though, and their foolish banter.
I hear a lot of conversations between the trainers and their clients, and mostly it makes we want to put a dumbbell up my ass. Today I caught part of a conversation, and the trainer was like, "Wait, did you say geranium? Oh, I thought it was a tulip?" I also overheard a client say, "My husband's brother's son can't eat cheese anymore either. I don't know what's going on in this world". And, "I've worked really hard to get that car and I don't want to park it next to those other cars."

I can't help but to think that the trainers also want to stick barbells and such up their own asses. We, I said we... You could focus on the competitiveness of the trainers to get clients and the clients' self-absorbed lives. With, of course, the occasional client, such as myself, that comes in solo to work out, looking, feeling and possibly smelling like a sweatsock.

These are just some ideas. Feel free to write me back anytime and we can get this thing rolling.

Thanks for your time.

Love Always,

Chrissy Costa

p.s. - your wife's commercials make me wanna eat yogurt again...


Blythe Landry said...

Dear Mr. Guest:

Chrissy is lying..she wasn't even a fetus in 1961. She does that sometimes..lies..but she also under-exaggerates the truth..for example..she didn't THINK about shoving a dumbell up her ass, she did it..and she didn't write the 4th Halloween in the back of her mind, she actually dated a guy named Jason who had some issues with wearing masks.
whatever, you should let me write your movie, because I had a personal trainer once who worked me so hard that I couldn't walk for three days.
What? I didn't say that did I.

Anonymous said...

Ummmmm....Chrissy, you had me at you wanted to stick a dumbell up your ass.

After that, things just got a little fuzzy and I went to another place : )

Anonymous said...

Blythe, Please send me the name of your personal trainer? No pain no gain...

Blythe Landry said... it!!!!!!!!!!! blythe

Chrissy Costa said...

Blythe, what exactly happened in 1961? You would so be the first one offed if we were in the movie Scream. You'd be Drew Barrymore, poppin' popcorn all blonde and sweet. You don't know your scary movie facts. Jason was the creepy slow-kid-gone-mad in Friday the 13th. Michael Myers was the creepy bed-head-havin-killer in Halloween. I'd be Randy, the nerd who had all the facts and none of the ass. I'd survive the movie and the sequel. Then I'd be offed in dramatic fashion in the 3rd movie. then I'd go on and do comedy. Oh, who am I kidding. I get plenty of ass. Huh? What's going on here?

Chrissy Costa said...

Oh, and Y is not a personal trainer...