The other day a picture magically appeared on my desk at work. I call it "Drunk Guy in Stupid Hat."

Although a better title might be "Secure in his Sexuality."

When i walked outside at lunch today it was like having someone punch you in the chest while pouring boiling water over your head. 49% humidity? I mean really.

Then my friend Julie accused me a being a baby. She might be right.

I was driving home this weekend and saw what I thought was a topless woman walking her dog. Two things immediately ran through my mind. The first was a simple "Whoa!" The second was "Where are her nipples?"

As I drove past I realized she was wearing a person-colored tank top. That would explain the lack of nipples.

Way back when, I applied to be an extra on Mr. 3000 starring Bernie Mac. It's filming in Milwaukee, and since I live there, it seemed like a perfect match.

A few weeks ago, I got the call to say they wanted me. I guess my evident charms and undeniable good looks swayed the casting people. That and they needed warm bodies. I was to be a fan in the stands.

My first of two days was July 21st. I got to Miller Park at 4 pm to check in. I take my pay voucher and head inside to find trays and trays of hot dogs and donuts. There are extras everywhere, most of whom must have never eaten a hot dog considering the number on some peoples plates. I have one dog and one donut and sit down.

As I'm finishing the food, they call for a wardrobe check. I get in line and meet Ryan, Anna and Kathy, three other extras. We talk and sit around after the wardrobe check. I was dressed fine, by the way.

They start calling groups of extras to the seats in the stadium around 6. I'm in the purple group (my code: purple 125), so I wait. And wait. And wait. They finally get our group around 8:30. We are the last ones in the stands.

While waiting to get seated, I read my book and people watch. I also meet Eileen, a retired woman who has driven up from Chicago with her daughter to be an extra. Her daughter, I find out later her name is Regina, has some sort of audition tomorrow. And she has a bit part in Seabiscuit. Or else Eileen has brought the book 'Seabiscuit' to read. I don't really know which because it's kind of loud in the stadium.

At least it's loud until they yell at us to be quiet because they are filming. But I'm not in the shot! What the heck is that all about?

When they finally call us, we are all herded to section 112. We pantomime cheering for a while, then we are all herded up to the Loge Level.

Up in the Loge Level, I'm sitting near this guy who is familiar to me, but I can't quite figure out who he is. Then it hits me. He's a comedian I saw in a bowling alley after a golf outing. It made sense back when it happened. Anyway, he gets into it with some kids sitting a row ahead of us. The rip on each other for the rest of the time we are sitting there. It's like watching a some sort of weird snaps competition.

Down on the field, Bernie Mac is swinging and swearing. Eileen calls them "bad words." I have to remember that she is retired before I realize why. No swearing from this little old lady.

Around midnight, we break for lunch. I grab some chicken and ice cream and sit down to eat. I also try not to fall asleep like the couple at the table in front of me, because if I do I won't be moving for the rest of the night. The chicken is not helping.

It's during this break that I meet Eileen's daughter Regina. I talk with her and Eileen for a while, but mostly read my book.

After all the chicken and ice cream, we are all herded back into the stadium. I'm behind the couple that was sleeping and I can see her engagement ring. It's the sort of obnoxious big that the phrase "choke a horse" was invented for.

Production assistants are running all over the place. There is Brian, who yells at us through a bullhorn. And the other Brian, who also yells at us, but through his mouth. There is some guy dressed like Steve Irwin, Crocodile Hunter and some other guy who looks like Huey Lewis' older, fatter brother. I pay little attention to them because they are everywhere. And they are always yelling at us.

As I sit, and sit, and sit, I notice a change in the crowd. You can tell it's getting later because the number of people sitting down between takes is increasing. I read my book. Everyone has hit a wall, including the little hottie behind me with the numb butt. But we have to keep pantomiming or all is lost. So we do.

Around 6 am, we are dismissed. I grab my backpack and head to the line where some guy will sign my pay voucher and let me go home. But my line is the slowest. It's 6:30 by the time I get out of there. I head home and promptly fall asleep.

At 10, some jackass telemarketer calls.

Tomorrow is the day to get the new Ween album, quebec.

Go buy it. You won't regret it.

And to fill this out a bit, here is the setlist from their show at The Rave on Sunday, July 27th.

Freedom of '76
The Grobe
Take Me Away
The Golden Eel
Baby Bitch
Happy Colored Marbles
Voodoo Lady
Albino Sunburned Girl
Exactly Where I'm At
Mutilated Lips
Puerto Rican Power
Dr. Rock
Touch My Tooter
Reggaejunkiejew
Roses Are Free
She's Your Baby
The Mollusk
Buckingham Green
Captain
Zoloft
HIV Song
Spinal Meningitis
Fluffy

::encore::

You Fucked Up
Mister Would You Please Help My Pony
Someday
Blarney Stone