Zach Selwyn

Actor. Musician. Host. Writer. Dinner Guest.

  • From LA Dispensary and Hiii Magazine. The Full Bush Girlfriened Reunion is here!

    Written/Directed by Zach Selwyn

    Starring Zach Selwyn, Dylan Berry, RJ Robinson, Wendy Selwyn

    (Associated Press) Zach Selwyn’s popular vertical comedy series “LA Dispensary” has spawned a spinoff short film about his 90’s Grunge Band “Full Bush Girlfriend.” The shrt comedy reunited original members Doug, Brandon Horses and Gerbil alongside their one groupie, Molly Slunt. This raucous eight minute film is a nod to indy fillmmakers around the world and to anyone who has ever chased a dream…

    90's Comedy dylan berry funny grunge humor Los Angeles RJ RObinson rock Seattle smashhaus SNL Wendy Selwyn Zach Selwyn
  • IMG_4819

    48 hours into a nine-day cruise on the Baltic Sea, I successfully traded a first season DVD of the TV show SMILF for a bottle of French wine.

    Confused?

    About two weeks ago, my friend Dan asked me to help punch up some scripts for a new live music/theatrical show he was producing on the Lightdream Cruise Line – a ship that is the size of some small cities – with 4000 passengers aboard and over 1200 staff members… Always one for an adventure, I took the gig, fondly recalling the last time I was on a cruise back in high school… I bathed in crystal blue waters, ate unlimited five star food, seduced beautiful women and sipped tropical cocktails by the pool… I was hoping this would be the same thing.

    Ehhh, not so much.

    cruiseshipsmain

    Following a 17-hour travel day, Dan, the show’s producer Mark and I boarded the ship in Brest, France. Following our long trip, I was craving a glass of red wine and some Netflix. We met our cruise liasion, Sarah, and she gave us the lay of the land…

    “So where’s like, the best bar on the ship?” I asked.

    “Oh honey, there’s no alcohol until we reach Copenhagen in four days,” she said.

    “Excuse me?” I replied.

    “Yep. And all the restaurants are closed. Oh, and be aware that there’s no internet or facilities open now… This is called ‘Dry Dock.’”

    “And where can I jump overboard?”

    As I contemplated learning how to make “toilet merlot” in my cabin, I got the rundown on what exactly “Dry-Dock” is.

    “Dry-Dock” is when the ship is being refurbished, rebuilt and cleaned. For weeks, it is in a state of disrepair and thousands of contractors from over 50 countries tear up carpets, put up stages and gather for their three meals a day in the makeshift dining room. People are monitored, allowed 45 minute meal windows, told to avoid sexual contact, can be kicked off board if they have weapons or contraband and nobody is allowed off the ship once they are on…

    Sound familiar? Yeah, that’s because it sounds exactly like prison.

    IMG_4225
    The view during ‘Dry Dock.’

    If I was going to write a Yelp review about the makeshift dining room where we were forced to eat, I would describe it as “Just a cut below Cracker Barrel…with all the ambience of a shopping mall Red Robin.”

    Still, it was our only option and Dan, Mark and I became  our own little prison gang, talking under our breaths about Broadway shows and musical theater as massive Scottish, Irish and Croatian guys cursed in their own languages, swallowed gallons of coffee and made us feel like we had to kick one of their asses to establish our dominance in the jail yard…

    “I guarantee you we’re the only guys in this dining room right now discussing The Greatest Showman,” Mark said.

    The food was constantly recycled and turned into a “new dish” the following day. For instance, the leftover “Breaded Chicken and Peppers” from the night before suddenly showed up again the next morning in the “Breaded Chicken Veggie Scramble.” At one point, I counted four meals in a row featuring a fish called branzino.

    IMG_4766
    Enjoying my 5th Branzino dish of the week…

     

     

    IMG_4255
    Common Mistake

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    One day in the slop line, I chatted up one particularly nice Irish pipe-fitter named Lochlin as we were served what was being passed off as “Lamb Stew.”

    “Hey man – where’s the booze on this ship?” I whispered. “Somebody’s gotta have something?”

    “Booze? You gotta cohme to Deck One,” he replied in a thick brogue. “We smahggled in everything… booze, dihrty mags, DVD’s.”

    And just like that, my trip was saved.

    “Wait – why do you have DVDs?” I inquired.

    “Shite – with no intehrnet – DVD’s are our only fohrm of entertainment. They’re in high demahnd… Unless you have a thumb drive with pornahgraphy on it – that’s what everybady wants.”

    He wasn’t lying. As it turns out, thumb drives with porn on them were traded among the contractors like cigarettes at Riker’s Island. If I could only download my weekly browsing history on Redtube.com, I’d be a very rich man.

    “So how much are DVD’s worth?” I asked.

    “Depends,” he said. “I just traded seahson one of Stranger Things for four pahcks of smokes… it was fookin’ brahlliant.”

    It was then that I remembered I had a few DVD’s with me in my backpack. With any luck, I’d have something valuable on me… I also had a thumb drive that, if I recalled correctly, had Toy Story 3 on it from a family trip a few years back. I ran to my cabin to assess my stash.

    In my bag, I had brought DVD’s of The Curious Case of Benjamin Button (Why I had this I have no idea.) Major League and Major League 2 (Research for a baseball comedy I was writing) and the first season DVD screener of the Showtime TV show SMILF – about a single mom who dates the wrong guys in Boston. It didn’t look very good, but the actress was hot. (I was sent the screener by the Emmy nominating committee, fyi).

    I then checked my thumb drive, for Toy Story 3. It was gone. The only thing on it was my latest acting “demo reel.”

    That night, Dan and I went downstairs to Deck One to see if we could get our hands on anything… a sip of wine, a beer… something to take away the endless jet lag and long nights of rehearsal.

    Lochlin vouched for us – and the DVD’s were thrown on a table. About nine guys came and glanced at them, seeing if any of these films seemed appealing. Sadly, nobody was interested in Benjamin Button or the Major League movies.

    “The Benjamin Button movie is too sad and we all fookin hate bahseball,” Lochlin informed me.

    SMILF however, had some people intrigued. They wanted to know if the girl got naked, had any sex scenes, if it was funny, etc. I told them I wasn’t sure because I hadn’t watched it yet, but a small bidding war began.

     

    9e8226482e5cb624318c353731c71164
    My SMILF DVD’s started a crew-wide bidding war

    One guy offered up a German porn magazine and two Heinekens. A Croatian guy said he had two packs of cigarettes and homemade Rakia – some type of homemade alcohol. Finally, Lochlin offered me a bottle of Bordeaux he had paid a Phillipino busboy 5 euros to smuggle on.

    Lochlin took me to the bowels of the ship. These were the DiCaprio cabins from Titanic and the party going on down there was exactly what you think it would be. A guy was DJ-ing off a laptop, people were dancing and drinking… and there was even a guy giving makeshift haircuts using what I would refer to as my “pube clippers.”

    IMG_4476
    10 Euros got you a trim.

    In Lochlin’s room, he showed me how he and four other guys slept in the same room and shared a “Shoilet” – which is a combination of a shower and a toilet. I looked in the bathroom and nearly had a panic attack. These guys were living like pirates in the 1700’s but without barrels of rum, wenches and chests of gold.

    He also told me the ship’s morgue was only two doors down the hall.

    “The morgue?” I cringed. “For what?”

    “About ten fuckers a year die on this ship,” he said. “Someone will prahbably die before we set sail tomorrow.”

    Jesus Christ.

    I urgently prodded Lochlin to produce the wine and I swiftly stuck it in my bag. I also noticed a couple of other bottles in his room as well. With two more days until Copenhagen, I offered up my thumb drive for another one.

    “OK, look my friend – I’m actually an actor – on this drive is a three minute demo reel of a bunch of TV shows and movies I’ve been in… it aint much, but maybe worth at least a glass of wine?”

    “Hmmm, “he said, actually contemplating the trade. “What mowvies have you been in?”

    “Uhmm… A couple Disney shows, a Jim Gaffigan movie … I dunno – nothing you’ve probably ever seen…”

    “Fuck that, Ill just take SMILF.”

    I handed it over to him, and with that, I had my hands on a mediocre bottle of French Bordeaux.

    Dan, Mark and I savored every pour of that wine that evening. As we giddily went off to bed, hoping to finally have a decent night’s sleep, we passed three contractors casually walking from the top deck somehow holding six beers in their hands.

    “Woah, what the fuck?” Dan said. “Where’d you guys get that?”

    “At the contractor bar upstairs,” the guy said.

    What? A contractor bar? We ran up and caught the last five minutes of a ship regulated “pop-up bar” for the workers. It had been here the whole time and nobody had told us. As it turns out, all of the ship contractors were allowed to come to this bar for a two hour drink window… It was like when the caddies are allowed an hour in the swimming pool in Caddyshack.

    Beers were $1.00 and a mini bottle of wine was $1.75. Mark bought the entire bar a round for $14.50.

    IMG_4477
    $1.75 for a Mini Bottle of merlot? HELL YEAH.

    The following night we were back up with the contractors, who were amazed that a couple of Americans had actually gone down to Deck One and made a wine deal with a Irish guy. One guy from Warsaw informed me that I had been ripped off. He would have given me three bottles of wine for SMILF.

    We finally sailed towards Copenhagen and I was reminded of how beautiful the world can be outside of Los Angeles. The contractors left and the passengers got onboard and the drinks flowed and a lot of overweight older couples explored the ship and bought things that nobody in their right mind should ever buy.

    At an onboard art auction, I watched two 75-year-old women violently bid on a 72 x 36 painting of a unicorn walking through Times Square… The lucky winner paid $2875 dollars for it.

    Meanwhile, the cruise sailed on. We helped establish the flow and structure of the show. After a few days, you start to learn a lot from cruise employees. Most of them are on board for nine months at a time, and many of them are running from some dark, hidden past. It’s almost like the porn industry mixed with hotel management… Which often leads to bad decisions.

    Sarah explained it further.

    “Everybody sleeps together at first,” she said. “But then you realize you’re gonna have to see them every day for nine months. One night you have sex, the next day you’re fighting over the last box of Frosted Flakes in the buffet.”

    “So I’m guessing you’ve stopped sailing your boat in company waters?” I joked.

    “No way,” she said. “I banged a sushi chef last year.”

    Another thing about cruise employees is that they are obviously extremely removed from current pop culture. At one point, Sarah told me that her favorite film of the past five years was “That amazing Ben Affleck move The Accountant.”

    “You have to get off this ship,” I said.

    The final night of the cruise and our show was up and running. I had befriended a bunch of new people and watched the show come together. One of the stage directors actually told me that I’d make a great cruise employee as I enjoyed talking to everybody and having a good time.

    “I’m flattered, man – but I gotta get back to my family,” I said.

    “Oh, you’re one of them…” he said with a sense of disappointment.

    I had just been “Family Shamed” by a cruise ship employee.

    He apologized for the way he reacted and just said he didn’t know a lot of people who were married with children. I told him not to worry about it and we wrapped up the show for the night.

    He then excused himself and went to the shoilet…

    MIGHT BANG IS COMING BACK! DOWNLOAD THE NICOLE SULLIVAN LIVE BONUS EPISODE BELOW!

    missi-zach-logo

    https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/missi-and-zach-might-bang/id1217686743?mt=2&i=1000411754247

    baltic sea broadway bukowski cruise ship david sedaris essays funny humor humor writing hunter s. thompson short stories tom wolfe Zach Selwyn
  • California Lottery City Lights Bookstore Commercial san francisco
  • 420 Comedy high times hiii humor Ian Powell Legacy Cannabis marijuana Mendocino Mendocino Grasslands Ukiah weed writer Yokayo Ranch Zach Selwyn
  • written by Zach Selwyn. Dir. by Adam Siegel.

    https://www.facebook.com/plugins/video.php?href=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.facebook.com%2FTBSNetwork%2Fvideos%2F1263617693679375%2F&show_text=0&width=560

    Comedy funny Seth Menachem sketch SNL TBS UCB Zach Selwyn
  • IMG_2659By Zach Selwyn

    Yesterday, while nursing a mild hangover brought on by my reckless quarantine red wine intake, I found myself fondling myself in the middle of a 14-person ZOOM business meeting.

    Ohhh boy. Hang on… Let’s analyze this for what it is…

    The team I am currently working with was all in pajamas, hats and glasses – sporting unkempt beards and yelling at their kids to stop interrupting their video calls. Our hair had been laid to waste by weeks of barber shop closure. The ladies passed on their morning makeup and contact lenses for more natural headbands and eyeglasses… Others had pets jumping around living rooms and husbands yelling about burnt toast from other rooms… and one guy did not mute his video microphone when he yelled, “FUCK OFF I’M ON THE PHONE” at his six-year-old.

    I understand. These are tough times.

    Anyway, as we were discussing a podcast I am currently working on for our company – I noticed that for a good majority of the meeting I had been sort of… playing with my penis beneath the camera lens.

    Yeah. Not sure why I was doing it, it was just one of those “personal moments” where I probably was up way too early, taking advantage of my comfortable sweatpants and recovering from some weird dream where I fantasized about maybe LEAVING my house during the day… I wasn’t focused on the meeting at all, in fact I was muted (thankfully) and just sort of having one of those “moments” that I’m sure we have all had recently… I wouldn’t call it a weakness, necessarily – it’s just a need to FEEL SOMETHING.

    After realizing what I was doing, I quickly discontinued my Zoom video stream claiming I had a “parent-teacher conference” and did 25 push-ups.

    During this quarantine, like most fathers, I have two kids in my house fighting over bandwidth and laptops and TV and all I want to do is watch The Last Dance on ESPN and drink until I pass out and somehow do some sort of coherent podcast episode the next day.

    Whatever the case, those preceding paragraphs you just read were all I have managed to come up in regards to my short stories… The thing is – I am not that concerned. Why? Well, look… I used to be a pretty prolific short story writer. I have published (Online) over 250 stores since about 2001. But recently, I just haven’t felt the passion… I mean, I HAVE been writing, but it’s not like I really have any actual ‘put together’ or ‘completed’ short stories as of yet… but in my mind they are coming. At least I think they are… Well, maybe.

    What I have really been writing somewhat prolifically are TITLES to stories I would love to write should this quarantine ever end …and I ever feel like putting the written word out to the public again.

    Now, my old writing professors would have asked me why I haven’t been writing and finishing these short stories… Of course they would have been asking me that question in the 90’s when people still paid for the written word… But the answer is mainly – for one – that nobody cares or gives a shit about anything but survival right now. Also? in reality, every time I post a new story it hits the internet and about 500-1000 people read it. Maybe 40 of those readers comment on it and tell me how great it is and then nothing happens until I get a cease and desist lawsuit threatening to sue me for $900 because I used a photo of a mushroom that I borrowed off of Google Images in a blog post. (Yes, this is true. A company tracked me down, demanded $900 and threatened further legal proceedings for using an image of a fucking image that some Danish photographer took in the first in 1998. )

    This was before quarantine, when I had maybe $750 in the bank. I never paid the company. I’m now guessing that Covid-19 furloughed those cockroaches back to the unemployment line where they now search for answers to explain to the Government how they worked as Soul Sucking Jizz Stains for living… and now they need a bail out.

    They’re probably asking for $20 million, like Ruth’s Chris Steakhouse received. (By the way – maybe Ruth’s Chris will spend some of that money to change the horrible name of their restaurant. I mean what is a “Ruth’s Chris?” It sounds like a toothless kid asking for her teeth back on Christmas Day. “All I want for Ruth’s Chris is my Two Front Teeth…“)

    Screen Shot 2020-04-28 at 7.00.05 PM
    I discuss this more on my podcast “Audio Up News Network”

    Look, I consider myself very lucky. In my life – writing has actually worked for me on occasion. I recently optioned one of my short stories as a screenplay to a pretty fantastic independent film company… but in the end it ended up resulting in two years of work on a film that never got made, which is really what you hear in Hollywood all the time, but I’m not upset about that- I’ve been in this business a long time. I mean listen… The first script I wrote in college was called Wedding Crashers. It had been read by a lot of people, but when the Owen Wilson/Vince Vaughn film came out I had my first taste of “What-the-fuck-is-this-town?”

    Another time, a website that published first person essays offered me $250 for a story about the Great Wolf Lodge that I still feel is the funniest thing I have ever written … The thing was, they told me to cut 400 words out of it. I told them to fuck off and retained my rights to the story. By the way? A grand total of 47 people commented on that post.

    But fuck it, it’s a new world, a new normal… whatever the fuck this is. I’ve been busy writing scripts for podcast comedies, jokes for projects and animated sitcoms that may never see the light of day. But, as I said – I have also been writing titles for a book of QUARANTINE ESSAYS…
    ‘
    And as of today – here is my working list of titles.

    ENJOY

    …And Other Quarantine Essays by ZACH SELWYN

    “I Thought I had Enough Booze for Three Weeks… I Said on Day Four.”

    “I Dunno, a Wife Swap Might Not be the WORST Idea, and other Reasons I’m Sleeping on the Couch…”

    “Don’t Trim Your Toenails While Inebriated.”

    “My Conspiracy Theory Friend Explains it All”

    “My son is 13. We had “the talk.” It wasn’t about sex or pregnancy…. It was about “How to hide your porn history using private browsing.” #NewNormal”

    “Divorce on Pause… One Friend’s Living Hell Awaiting a Legal Separation”

    “Why am I Googling My Exes?”

    “Finding’ a Jerkin Window… an Impossible Task”

    “I’m Committing Suicide, Dad… And Other Things I heard When the WiFi went Out.”

    “Fuck if I get Sick. I’m Going to the Store for Beer and Easter Candy… One Dad’s Adventure.”

    “Alexa, Play Anything but Ed Sheeran.”

    “My Kid Goes to School on the Same Laptop I Googled ‘Hot Girl Gets Blasted by Stepdad’ on Yesterday.”

    and finally:

    “Yeah, it’s a Breakfast Beer… Big Deal…”

    Oh…. By the way. I’m Repped by WME.

    Reach out if you’re interested in reading the rest of my essay collection…

  • 779925-Inside_the_Derby_Los_Angeles
    The Derby in its heyday, 1997

     

    The Day The Derby Became a Bank * By Zach Selwyn

    -2
    And the Derby today… A Chase Bank

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    I live about a mile from the building that was once the famous swing dance club known as “the Derby.” In the mid-late 90’s, when the swing music revolution twirled its way across the streets of Los Angeles and turned regular farm boys from the Midwest into Rat Pack wannabes, “the Derby” was the swing club to frequent.

    In 1996, Jon Favreau was so inspired, he made a pretty great film about it called Swingers and suddenly star Vince Vaughn had the entire town looking for “beautiful babies” and saying that everything was “money.” I passed a bootleg VHS tape of the film around my college friends and soon fell in hook, line and sinker. After graduation, I dove head first into the post-Swingers madness that raised dirty martinis all over Hollywood. Lines formed around the Hillhurst/Los Feliz street corner where the Derby resided awaiting entrance into the ultimate haven of swing-cool.

    I owned 15 bowling shirts, white “creeper” shoes, Cadillac-emblazoned pants, shoulder-pad heavy sport coats, a flask, three Big Bad Voodoo Daddy CDs and a t-shirt that said “It’s Frank’s World, Were all Just Living in It.” I went to Las Vegas monthly, drank gin and tonics and swept my hair up into a James Dean-inspired pompadour. I remember feeling so confident that my “swinger” image would live with me for the rest of my days, I traveled to New York City around 1999 and searched out underground West Village swing clubs to show Manhattan that a “Real Life Hollywood Swinger” was in their presence. Somehow the façade worked and after ringing up a $290 credit card bill, I managed to make out with a girl named ‘Kitty’ who had a Stray Cats tattoo on her shoulder before retiring to her floor mattress in Brooklyn where she woke up six times during the night to smoke Marlboro Reds.

    It was all because of Swingers.

    swingers-movie-poster-1020259619 And then, about five years ago, it was announced that the Derby was going to be transformed into a Chase Bank. The bar where I spent my early 20’s was suddenly going to be a place where I would curse the teller for charging me a checking account fee… The club where I once dated the hottest bartender in town was turning into a place where a gal named Evelyn would inform me my mortgage was ten days late. When I heard the news, I knew this was not good. The Derby? I thought… A bank? WWJFD? (What Would Jon Favreau Do?)

    Turns out, Favreau had bigger fish to fry. Even though he could have easily bought the Derby and used it to store his Iron Man memorabilia, he ignored my twitter plea for him to buy the bar and turn it into a museum. I’m sure Vince Vaughn most likely drank at “Mess Hall,” the restaurant next door, toasting the ghosts of the barroom that made him a movie star… but he was also too busy and uninspired to save the bar. I even tweeted actor Patrick Van Horn, who played SUE in the film. He at least took the time to write me back by quipping “End of an Era.”

    A week before the Derby was to be gutted, I gathered my old “Swinger buddies,” – now dads who had traded in slick sport coats and suspenders for Old Navy hoodies – and we poured out some gin for Favreau and Vaughn, for Sinatra, for dirty martinis, for the incredible wooden Derby ceiling, for the memories we had shared at the bar and for the debauched nights spent watching amazing swing bands like Royal Crown Revue sing “walk right in, walk right out…”

    We even quoted the movie a few more times to make sure we still knew all the classic lines. “Get there…” “This place is deaaad anyway…” “He’s all growns up… I would never eat here.” “You’re the fun-loving out going party guy, and you’re sweating some lawn jockey?” The night went on and on.

    swingdudes 98
    Seanny Walls, Big Daddy Jake and the author, feelin’ “Money” in 1998. #jawline

    As the evening died down, we all retired a lot earlier than we had in the late 90’s and excused ourselves back to our families. The next week, the Chase Bank transformation had begun and the last remaining memories of my first few years out of college were carried out and discarded.

    A few weeks ago, I found myself in line at the Chase, staring up at the exact same wooden ceiling that I had spun girls beneath in the past. The ceiling beneath which I had done shots of Crown Royal a hundred times. The ceiling that watched over me as I tried to find assimilation with a unique sect of people during those weird times when you’re not yet quite sure who you were – who you are – or where you are going.

    I got up to the bank teller and deposited my meager check, taking a moment to remark that this building was once my one-time favorite nightclub.

    Without making eye-contact she mumbled, “Yep, every one of you middle-aged guys who comes in here has the same story.”

    “Fuck off,” I whispered under my breath.

    I took another glance at the ceiling and thought of the days gone by. Hollywood is forever a town of transformation. Very few restaurants and bars make it ten years… hence the stories you read about now defunct clubs like The Trip, The Cathouse and Gazzari’s that were the most happening places to be. In my life, the Derby was certainly my place. The place where I was part of a nationwide fad that engulfed my youth when I was a mere lump of clay awaiting to be molded into the lump of Play-Doh I am these days.

    As I looked down at my bank receipt and realized how far this journey in Hollywood had taken me, I thought of the dreams I had at age 22 that were still somewhat unrealized. When places that mean so much to you as a kid disappear, you fail to immediately recognize that they will be gone for good and the memories will fade or melt into new ones until all you have left are a few photographs and some journal entries. I look back at my two years as a pseudo-swinger as important remembrances that I will take with me through all of my life. At the time I thought I’d be 22 forever, twirling cute tattooed ladies across slick wooden floors only pausing to sip drinks and wipe the sweat from our brows. I never thought I’d be 40-years-old and in the exact same room looking down at a bank statement stressing about the fact that I barely had enough money that week to cover my DWP bill.

    Derby+1

    -1
    The line leading to these steps would wrap around to Los Feliz Blvd.

    Again, my thoughts turned to Jon Favreau. As the worlds most in demand director, he probably never imagined he would achieve the level of success he has back when he was simply searching for familiarity amongst the Hollywood night-crawlers of the mid 90’s. I reached back out to my old swinger buddies and arranged another drinking night to sit back and reminisce about the Derby days gone by, and we all agreed to get together on a following Tuesday night.

    Of course, by Monday morning, everybody had flaked and the plans were cancelled so we could spend some time with our families. We all agreed to try again later, and I thought about how a little piece of all of us died the day the Derby did…

    And a part of me knew, that somewhere, high up in those Malibu Hills, Jon Favreau was feeling the same thing…

     

    Buy Zach’s Book “Talent Will Get You Nowhere” on Amazon.com!

    BUY ZACH'S BOOK at AMAZON.COM!

     

    Alex Desert Doug Liman Hillhurst Hollywood Jon Favreau Patrick Van Horn Ron Livingston short stories swing dance Swingers The Derby Vince Vaughn Zach Selwyn
  •  

    420 blkunts Golden State Warriors NBA steve kerr swaggy p weed
  • BETWEEN ZEVON AND LEVON

    https://open.spotify.com/embed/artist/5HQkGvms9VUI9pSZLUGdQQ?utm_source=generator

    americana Country linen jackson browne levon helm Los Angeles singer songwriter springsteen the band Warren Zevon Zach Selwyn
  • Billy Bob Thornton, Ronnie Wood, Bubbles, Riucky Julian and Randy will all be there… and so will yer boy ZACH! Playing Dwight the dim-witted guitar player, Selwyn also wrote four songs on the album! Check the record link below!!!

    https://open.spotify.com/embed/album/6tS0JOIbiOA1mE4aQTCmOA?utm_source=generator

    Billy Bob Thornton Bubbles & the Shitrockers Comedy country five beer plan funny JP Tremblay Mike Smith Music Pat Roach Robb Wells Ronnie wood Trailer Park Boys Zach Selwyn Zachariah
  • Home
  • CORPORATE EVENTS
  • Zachariah & The Lobos Riders
    • The Band
    • MP3’s
    • WHERE’S ZACH ON TOUR!?
  • The Writer
  • COUNTRY LINEN
  • Film/TV
    • America’s Secret Slang
    • Film/TV
    • Reels
  • Comedy
    • Sketch Comedy
    • Comedy Music
    • Comedy MP3’s
  • Contact/Booking

Tag: Rob Thomas

Watch all new Ep. of “Americas Secret Slang” Tonight!

  • June 13, 2014
  • by zachselwyn
  • · America's Secret Slang

WATCH EPISODE 2 “RIDING SHOTGUN” HERE!!

Ever wonder why you get “3 Sheets to the Wind?” Why you make money “Hand over Fist?” Why you’re called a “Slacker?” JOIN ME on the HIGH SEAS on H2 – History tonight for an all new episode of #Secretslang 9pm/10pm est on H2

IMG_5077

YO HO YO HO A PIRATES LIFE FOR ME…

Americas_Secret_Slang_2014_Key_Art_Hero-H

ZACH TO READ A STORY FROM HIS NEW BOOK” TALENT WILL GET YOU NOWHERE” at POWERHOUSE WEDNESDAY NIGHT! Hollywood & Highland!

Share this:

  • Share on X (Opens in new window) X
  • Share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
  • Email a link to a friend (Opens in new window) Email
Like Loading...

Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.

Privacy & Cookies: This site uses cookies. By continuing to use this website, you agree to their use.
To find out more, including how to control cookies, see here: Cookie Policy
  • Subscribe Subscribed
    • Zach Selwyn
    • Join 103 other subscribers
    • Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
    • Zach Selwyn
    • Subscribe Subscribed
    • Sign up
    • Log in
    • Report this content
    • View site in Reader
    • Manage subscriptions
    • Collapse this bar
 

Loading Comments...
 

    %d