Um ... Where'd You Say the Bathroom Was?

This story begins on the balmy beaches of Acapulco, Mexico during the shooting of one of the many physically competitive/ booze and sex-fest type shows that are set in places like ... well, Acapulco. If you've ever worked on one of these shoots, you know that the crew tends to party harder than the cast during off-hours. For whatever reason, the director of this show had carte blanche to fuck up in any variety of ways and had built himself a reputation of staying fairly well-marinated even during shooting hours. And so it goes.

On this particular night we were dancing and drinking the night away in the club located on the first floor of our resort. I was standing near the bar having a drink and chatting with the art director as she felt a splash hit her arm. We both turned towards the bar to find the source of the splash. What my eyes fell upon was the aforementioned director standing in front of the bar, dick-in-hand, pissing all over it. I didn't know whether to throw something at him or laugh hysterically. I opted for the latter. Of course, the art director was totally horrified. She wanted to approach her director, but he was too fucking wasted to even realize he wasn't at the damn urinal. I wish there was a good post-script to this, but the director got off scot-free, even though this story made the rounds several times during the rest of the shoot. I guess those other rumors of him banging the exec of the company weren't totally unfounded. There's ONE way of making it in this business ...

The Birth of "Striptern"

Production company, executive producer and Menudo member's names aside, this story is quite the treat of a lesson learned.

To set the scene, it was a bit of a celebration after the 3rd season of a reality show took the air a few years ago. The company was pretty well known for their cute interns and banging all night celebrations after a clusterfuck of a production ended with a bleak -- but surviving -- skeleton crew. After 3 hours of an open bar, our "douchebag frat boy" exec invited a select few back into his "hot ride" (aka rented shitty limo)... I was (un)fortunately one of the invited. I did not know where (or if) the night would end.

Once everyone piled into the limo with the "douchebag frat boy" exec, an intern appeared... a very, very, intoxicated, female intern. To make a long story short, somehow our "crew" (producers, shooters, mixers etc.) ended up at a local strip club. Thats where the intern fun began.... After dryhumping everything known to man -- including the strippers themselves -- she settled for... yes, "douchebag frat boy" exec. At that point, being the only sober person in the "crew"... I knew I had a due responsibility to take close notes of the debauchery and to share with those who were absent from such a "party". I thought after the intern nearly raped the EP, camera op, 2 producers and a mixer there was no way in hell she would surface at work ever again... however, truth be told, she did. After sharing the shockingly awesome and stupid details of the previous evening... witty and cunning corner office producer coined a name that has followed her through shows and productions to this day (about a year and counting). All hail Striptern. Lesson learned: Always accept the invitation for a limo ride. Stay sober and share with your real friends after everyone makes a fucking ass of themselves.

Them's the Rules

We created this site because, having worked in television for a few years now, we've seen/experienced/heard about a whole lot of crazy things. Unfair things, ass-backwards things, stupid things, embarrassing things, funny things, disgusting things, etc. This is a place for those stories to be told. If you have a story to send in, send it to productionstories@gmail.com.

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