Jimmy 4 Sale!

Well, kinda… Let me explain. You probably caught my first Insider’s Guide to London programme. Loved it. And can’t wait to see the next episode. Right? Right! Well, I’m right there with ya, buddy. I’m busy hustling to raise funds for episode two, focusing on London fashion (wait till you get a load of all the bowler hats and punk rockers!).

 

But raising the cash is a tough job. When you add in all the costs of craft service, PR, make-up, lighting, and per diems, guerrilla film-making ain’t cheap! On the first ep (industry speak for epiwebisode), we kept it down to eight days of shooting, but it still cost just under $220k (yeah, you got me, it’s in dollars – still can’t get a handle on these pounds and sterlings!).

 

But now the bank (aka Marcia – the sexiest bank manager I’ve ever had – literally!) said she won’t fund another one. The credit crunch hits us celebs too, let me tell ya. So now I have to find a way to film another ep, but without breaking the bank. And that’s where you guys come in.

 

All those marketing execs reading my blog to find out the latest from the celeb front line, why don’t you make me an offer I can’t refuse? In return I can lend a bit of Jimmy sparkle to your product. We can do placement or just a mention. I’m a great role model, so it can only be good for your brand. I have just a couple of rules: no porn*, no sanitary towels (don’t get me wrong ladies, I’m not being squeamish, but I’m currently involved in some messy litigation with Lil-lets) and definitely no firearms. The only guns I’ll be flashing are my upper arms. (Gym membership is finally payin’ off – Marcia’s gonna be one lucky lady when I get back to the States!) But anything else goes. So get callin’!

 

*with some exceptions – let’s sign a non-disclosure agreement first and then we can discuss

Brett Benton

 

It’s been quite a week for Jimmy. Not just the literally historic election (I’ll give you my two cents’ worth on that later, but for now let’s just say ‘Yes I can!’). But also some sad news about a dear, dear friend (and one of my biggest fans), Brett Benton.

 

Marcia and I live busy, busy lives. So we have long been supported in bringing up James Jr by our live-in nanny Brett Benton. (Yes he’s a man but come on guys, it’s 2008! Ain’t you ever seen Who’s The Boss?!).

 

Brett was a high school friend of Marcia’s. But it was only after Marcia married me that they bumped into one another again, and really hit it off. About a year later – OK maybe not a year, probably a few months less, call it nine months – James Jr was born and we asked Brett to be our live-in nanny.

 

He’s always been there for Marcia, particularly when I’ve been on the road. Supporting her in raising James Jr, helping her round the house, and making sure she’s got everything she needs, day and night. And James Jr just loves him. They’ve got loads in common – including a rare genetic skin condition. What are the chances! And you know what, he and I really bonded too over the years. He always seems to know, instinctively, when things might not be going so well with me and Marcia, and is there for me, counselling me, advising me to go on the road again to give her some time and space to herself. Brett’s a star. A friend. A rock. A shining light for us Baldwins.

 

Well, not any more. He’s dead. He died last night, crushed to death under a death-dealing ten-ton truck of death, no plates, nothing. Funny thing is, he’d just left a message asking me to call him. Said he had something he had to tell me, something I deserved to know. God knows what it was – Marcia certainly has no idea. She hadn’t seen him for days (she’s been busy on a Heavy Goods Vehicle training course for her new movie, Truckin’).

 

I guess this is what they mean by the mystery of death. Anyway, Brett, if you’re reading this blog (via www.heaven.com, I’m sure!), please know that we’re all thinking of ya.

 

Peace out.

Letting it all hang out

 

Well guys, we start previews next week and, let me tell ya, it’s a weird feeling. We’ve had such an intimate rehearsal period, shutting out the real world, entering into our make-believe one, becoming like family with the cast and crew, baring our souls to each other – and more! Sharon and I have an explicit yet tasteful sex scene (or, as I always call them, love scene, check the pic above for some masters at work! Sizzle!) at the end of Act One. That’s a whole different post, but let’s just say little Jimmy sometimes don’t like taking direction from big Jimmy… Sorry ’bout that Sharon – and please remember, it’s a compliment!

 

Anyway, we’re almost there. Dress (that’s actor speak for ‘dress rehearsal’) is on Tuesday and then first preview is on Wednesday. Woking Playhouse, watch out for Jimmy! Or maybe that should be Jimmy, watch out for Woking Playhouse! Because after weeks of rehearsals, of self-analysis, introspection, time spent getting into each other’s characters – and into each other (the cast is DYNAMITE) – we’re suddenly on display to strangers. It’s like that first time you get naked with a partner. I remember with Marcia it was a fraught experience. I was SO into her, she was a little bit out of it (it was the press night of Relationshits and we’d all had some ‘assistance’ to enjoy ourselves – ‘nudge, wink, say no more’, as those crazy Pythons like to say!) – and having her check out my body felt like the final test I had to pass before being allowed into the hallowed chambers of some sexy sorority house. Thankfully, I got in – at least that’s the way I remember it – Marcia claims she can’t remember a thing! So much for romance!

 

I’m getting kinda the same nervous feeling now, waiting to see what the people of London think of my performance (and no, I’m not just talking about the love scene!). So go easy on us, guys. Not because the show isn’t great (it’s AWESOME), but because we’re out there, naked, exposed, letting you penetrate our characters with your eyes and your minds. So come on in – you’re very welcome – but please be gentle.