Of Car Wrecks, Near Misses and Landings You Can Walk Away From

At approximately 10:20 am on Thursday morning I was involved in a car wreck that I was very lucky to walk away from. Basically my brand new car, just purchased 4 short weeks ago, looks like the Incredible Hulk jumped on it and promptly started stomping the yard.

It's amazing how time slows down in an accident. Like you have all the time in the world and none at all. Even thinking about the crunch of the impact makes me shudder. The employees of the towing yard that the corpse of my car was sent to, people who see cars that were involved in fatalities, looked at the car, looked at me and said "you walked away from that?"

I'm not the most religious guy in the world. I don't believe in fate, preferring to think instead that I can build whatever future I choose for myself. I fear that if I deign to rely on fate just a little, then it will make me get lazy. I've seen too many times in my life when luck is simply when opportunity meets preparation. However, this was one of those times when I think to myself, "it just wasn't my time".

I am humbly grateful for the outpouring of support I received from facebook, text messages and phone calls from family, friends, co-workers and cast members. I love you all and consider myself truly rich to be surrounded by people like you.

However ...

One of these people (who gave me a lot of support, even leaving a facebook message letting everyone know I was okay) wishes to be blogged about in the following manner (because he is insane). Ahem... here goes:

So I got in this horrible car wreck the other day and this miserable, sociopathic piece of human filth by the name of Tennyson E. Stead (what kind of cock calls himself a name that was obviously stolen from a Victorian Romance novel??? Nice try Wuthering Heights!!! Go back to your character sheets and try again, nerd!!), all this guy can say when he finds out is "The scripts man!!!! The scripts were in your car!!! Did you save the scripts for this weekend's reading of Sam Bailey???!!!! Those things cost me 40 bucks to print up!!!!!" So the day after my car wreck, this piece of garbage makes me limp 45 minutes downtown, on Vicodin to rescue his precious damn scripts from my car!!! This is the man I call my business partner (spits)! Welcome to Hollywood kids!!!