who dat? contest:

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"i know!"

yesterday's results:

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from the dukes of hazzard

played by actor ren jones who is, if i'm not mistaken, a distinguished member of congress

first correct answer:
todd collins was close enough

i'm a semifinalist!

Upon returning home from my (see below) shit day, I found an envelope from the Academy of Motion Pictures in my mailbox. I ripped it open and read the first word: Congratulations! I then screamed and did a very ungraceful karate kick in the air.

My script has now moved on to the semifinals of the Nicholl Fellowships in Screenwriting Competition. The field has now been pared down from 4100 scripts to about 110 scripts. Man, I am excited.


My group within my division at Evil Media Conglomerate is undergoing a huge restructuring – folding into a new Internet company within but kept at arms’ length from said EMC. Not only that but we’re currently losing money, my division is. So what does a group-in-flux do? They have a 5 hour off-site team building meeting run by outside consultants followed by a BBQ at the nasty Griffith Park! Problem – not only do I not care about any of this (it’s a paycheck for me- simple as that), but I really know very little about the business, even after 18 months here.

This is gonna be bad…

8:30 – I arrive at the off-site on EMC’s "campus" in Burbank. I find my way into a new building’s new ugly-ass conference room. Cool, bagels. Whatever. There is a massive square of tables set up with big-ass binders at each place. They read: Category Team Kick-Off. August & September 1999.

One of the 2 female consultants steps to me while I am flirting with the Vassar-ish Margie and asks my name and what I do.

"Stee. I’m in the trouble-making Item Set-Up group."

"You know Stee, every group is important and every person within every group is important."

I stare at her in disbelief and reply, "Oh don’t worry. Our group has nothing if not a healthy sense of our own worth."

The consultant walks away.

9:25 – After our 2 pack-a-day-voiced new Boss "blah blah’s" for a while, we, 25 people, are asked to introduce ourselves and talk about the best team experience in our lives. I say, "That would have to be when I was in prison." Everyone laughs. The consultants and Boss glare at me. I should probably not do that anymore.

10:17 – "…will now be organized to support an integrated merchandising process, not "siloed" into separate retail functions causing miscommunication…". Someone kill me.

10:46 – Break! I run outside and have a smoke, planning an escape. They bring in fruit and sodas so I’m placated for the moment.

10:57 – Jody has very nice breasts. I’ve never noticed that before.

11:10 – Oh fuck. I’m going to be asked to join in a small group conversation about roles and responsibilities and goals. Is "to quit as quickly as possible" a viable goal?

11:34 – That Backstreet Boyz song "I Want It That Way" confuses me. Why do they sing "I don’t ever want to hear you say, I want it that way"? Why never. What are the Boyz afraid of hearing? Are we talking sex? Are the Boyz then closed to their partners’ desires? Anyone got a line on this?

12:36 – Our 4-person group just made our presentation on what outstanding questions we have about our new roles. For some reason I decide to get involved and bring up a problem. Bitch consultant tells me that "we’re getting to a level of granularity that can probably be best answered elsewhere". Granularity? All right, fuck you I was trying to participate and act concerned. Nevermind. I’m going back to doodling you bitch. Consult this.

1:00 – Yeah! We’re done. I run away.

2:38 – While eating a veggie-burger with my group at the stupid picnic, a yellowjacket stings me on the wrist. Oh fuck that hurt! I grab my bag and walk to my car.

The worst part: we have another meeting on Monday. This time all day long.

So if this site becomes inactive suddenly, it’s because I committed hari-kari with a 3-hole punch. I’ll miss you all.

This is where I let Larry King take over my body for a few minutes.

I couldn’t be at the wake of a certain sweetheart feline who left the building all too soon. But I wrote a limerick for the occasion:

There once was a cat named Lillith
When she died she did not leave a willith
Life was made happy
By Pamie and E.
‘Til of this world she did have her fillith

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