Andrew Earles

The baby-as-adult ones. It’s predictable, I know, but talking babies have always struck me as cause for creative blacklisting. The guy responsible for the main baby voiceover…that’s a comedian. I can feel it. I can see that comedian’s bald head and slightly drawn face…I can see that comedian’s pocket-tee, cargo-shorts, and drinking problem. I can see this comedian’s age, experience, and degree of fame…each has ever-so-slightly surpassed those that choke YouTube with short films that do little more than invent new methods of trying too hard. I can see this comedian’s girlfriend leaving a note on the breakfast table: “I’m fine. Don’t call my parents. Don’t report me as a missing person.” I can see the phone ring. I can see him battling both emotions as he learns of the eTrade voiceover gig. I can see him get blasted on the surplus of beer in the fridge. I can see him in an Irish themed bar, accepting free drinks from a coked-out lesser. I can see this coked-out lesser launching into an impenetrable description of a short that’s being entered in a monthly contest. I can see the key-bumps exchanged in the bathroom before the comedian and the lesser depart for the latter’s promise of more. I can see years and years of conversations started with those that normally wouldn’t even deserve a post-dated gas-face.