the writing and photography of Neil Kramer

Tag: Meryl Streep

Will Meryl Streep Ever Follow Me On Twitter?

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Tonight is Oscar night, which brings up the same question I have asked myself again and again over the last seven years — “Will Meryl Streep ever follow me back on Twitter?” Or let me ask this in another way — “If I go my entire life without Meryl Streep following me back on Twitter, will I view my existence on earth as somewhat of a failure?”

I rarely dream about being followed back on Twitter. I know you care a lot about this.   I see you.  I see how you ass-kiss celebrities in the hope that they will validate your life.  I’m not impressed with that many people online.  OK, once I stalked someone. Yes, it was you Bon Stewart. I read one of your blog posts back when you wrote normal posts not about your crazy dissertation, and I went onto Twitter and asked, “Does anyone know this person? Because I want to know her.” And within an hour we were following each other on Twitter.

I don’t think this approach will work with Meryl Streep.  Meryl Streep is not as “easy” as you.

Celebrities tend to only follow back OTHER celebrities. Sometimes I see that they follow some journalist or author so they can appear intelligent to their fans, the online equivalent of Jessica Alba going to the gym wearing librarian glasses. Of course, celebrities only follow  other famous people when they are at a career high.  If a celebrity, journalist, or author gets in trouble for a inappropriate tweet or has a nervous breakdown on TMZ, then Goodbye Charlie.  As a CAA agent once told me during an interview, “Winners ONLY associate with winners.  That’s what Hollywood is about.  Period.”

Imagine the stress celebrites must feel not following us all back. We find it hard juggling 300 friends on Facebook. Imagine having people wanting your autograph and photo every time you walk into an Arby’s. I can understand why Meryl Streep might want to hide from her fans.

But me too, Meryl?

I like to look over the following lists of celebrities.   I’m always wondering, “Don’t celebrities have any friends outside of other celebrities? Don’t they have any annoying friends left over from grade school, or an Aunt Tilly in Tulsa that they are forced to follow on Twitter because their mother told them it was polite.”

It’s as if once you reach celebrity status, you can’t use social media for anything other than being a celebrity. I’m sure Meryl Streep would love to engage with me and talk about my instagram filters, but she just CAN’T — “says her business manager.”

Meryl, is that true?

Here is some article on “How to Make a Celebrity Follow You on Twitter.”

But honestly, do you really think any type of “engagement” or mere gimmick is going to win over Meryl Streep.   She’s not an idiot.   She went to Yale.   My movie buff friend Danny Miller interviewed Meryl Streep, AND could quote lines from Sophie’s Choice to her all night long, and Meryl Streep still doesn’t even him!

Perhaps this is my motivation to finish this dumb screenplay I’ve been working on forever. If I can change the stoned twenty-something character to a beautiful and sophisticated fifty year old artisan bakery owner, perfect for Meryl, and we can get her to agree to the part, maybe…. just maybe… but then again, I don’t think actresses even follow the screenwriters of their films. It’s a step down in the hierarchy. Way down.

I need to accept that Meryl Streep will never follow me back on Twitter. And what do I need her for anyway? I love all the friends that DO follow me back, and I would never trade any of you in for the greatest living actress.

OK, I would.

The Devil Wears Converse

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Since I’m still in New York for the rest of the week, I decided to go into Manhattan for a job interview with Anna Wintour at Vogue Magazine.

Anna:  “So, Neil, how much experience do you have in the fashion industry?”

Neil:  “None. ”

Anna:  “None?”

Neil:  “Well, I did write two pieces about fashion.”

Anna:  “At which publication?”

Neil:  “It was on my blog.” 

Anna:  “I see.  Your blog.  And what were these “pieces” about?”

Neil:  “One of them was to call for a boycott of the fashion industry and the other was about some ridiculous jeans that revealed male pubic hair.”

Anna:  “And this is your ONLY experience with the fashion industry?”

Neil:  “Well, I read La Coquette.  I think she does something with fashion.  And a lot of female bloggers write about shoes, so I know a little something.  And Sophia has dragged me to a lot of stores where I’m bored out of mind.  Even Fictional Rockstar recently wondered on her blog, “Why do women torture men like that?”

Anna:  “Do you know who Jimmy Choo is?”

Neil:  “Of course.  Didn’t he played Bruce Lee’s adversary in “Five Fingers of Death?””

Anna Wintour sighs.

Anna:  “Do you usually come to an interview wearing torn jeans and a tee shirt that reads “I almost f***ked in a rowboat?””

Neil:  “I try to have my own style.”

Anna:  “And exactly why do you want to work for Vogue Magazine?”

My Penis interrupted me before I could answer.

Penis:  “Simple.  Have you seen the hot women who work here?”

Neil:  “Please, Penis, I’m in the middle of an interview.”

Penis:  “Neil, I just want to make sure that I’ll be comfortable working here.  Aren’t we a partnership?”

Neil:  “OK, Penis, go ahead.”

Penis:  “Ms. Wintour, I notice that most of the editorial staff  consists of women who are size 2 and under.  Do you have any women employees with a little more meat on them, maybe in the accounting department?  I prefer f***ing women with at least some tits and ass.”

Neil:  “Penis, can you act professional for once in your life?”

Anna:  “I think this interview is over.  How in the world did you ever think that Vogue would hire you as a fashion writer?”

Neil:  “Well, I saw this movie last night called “The Devil Wore Prada,” about a “serious journalist” young woman with stringy unwashed hair (but was a goddess after a fashion makeover) who got a job with a fashion magazine simply by walking in and mocking the the industry to the editor-in-chief’s face.  And this hard-to-believe movie was based on a hard-to-stay-awake-while-reading bestselling book that women just loved to read.  And the bestseller was based on the ungrateful writer’s own experience.  So, I figured, what do I have to lose?”

Anna:  “If I hire you, do you promise to write a roman a clef based on your negative experiences working here while portraying me as a crazed monster?”

Neil:  “Absolutely.”

Anna:  “You’re hired!”

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