No, the Profiles haven’t ended yet, but hey – we’re on a schedule, so you at least have a little warning, or can pretend Thursdays don’t exist, whatever it takes. We could be doing this at random, more times a week even. Be grateful for what you get.
This week we meet Groft Smiel, seen here during filming and contemplating which method of eviscerating his foe would cause him (Groft Smiel, not his foe, unless he [his foe] is into that kinda thing) the most pleasure. Groft Smiel admits to being typecast, but let’s face it: with those neck wattles and that kind of long-dead-corpse complexion, he’s not going to be getting the romantic lead parts anytime soon unless it’s a Tim Burton movie. To the best of anyone’s knowledge, Groft Smiel’s stunning portrayal of evil and sadistic characters can be put down to acting ability, though in the past he was a gym teacher, so all bets are off. Come to think of it, dodge balls find their way into the plots of his (Groft Smiel’s, not Tim Burton’s so far) movies surprisingly often. He (Tim Burton, not Groft Smiel) got his big break with Stalk of the Celery Monster, but that’s neither here nor there. Groft Smiel never had a big break, simply appearing in a progressively greater number of evil parts until casting directors started putting him in casts automatically, because finding new talent is too much like the job that they’re supposed to do. This makes Groft Smiel instantly recognizable and he’s constantly asked by fans to, “Say, ‘Never rub another man’s rhubarb!'” or simply to kill the DMV clerk. He considers this the price of fame, but if he never autographs another Tamagotchi, he won’t miss it. He once saved the life of a drowning child, but secretly admits that he wasn’t trying to – he mistook the child for a Members Only jacket, and is still a little disappointed. Groft Smiel’s favorite Excel function is HYPGEOMDIST, but we suspect he says that just to be popular with the ladies – c’mon, HYPGEOMDIST? Seriously?
The best thing we can say about next week is that it isn’t this week, or any of the previous ones. There’s probably a limit to horrible content. Probably.
* * *
I’m gonna do a small follow-up, because. The photo above (Groft Smiel is not his real name) was taken in my office, back when I worked at an animal shelter, because I was the only one ready and willing to tackle the care of green iguanas when they appeared at the shelter – I actually had several, at different times spread out over a couple of years.
The image at right was taken within that time period, in the same office, but I’m not actually sure if it’s the same iguana or not – the EXIF info is long gone from these files. The blue blanket in the photo covers the iguana cage to keep it semi-tropical inside, which they desire, while you can see two of my photos on the wall in the background. But yeah, that’s what I looked like (I’m the one on the right) sixteen years ago. Save the comments until the end, please.