Rarin' and Swearin'
Whew. Has it been ten (er, I'm an idiot, it's been twelve(!!!)) days already? Between the assistants' picket, poker (I'm still down from my original fund, but considerably less so, thanks to slow playing quad queens in a cash game -- sorry Kimchee, I know you hated that play), Thanksgiving and the Bahamas -- I'm fucking exhausted.
Let's start from the beginning: Assistants' picket was a HUGE success. A brilliant idea by assistant Andrew. Another brilliant idea, by an uber smart writer friend of mine: writers buying the assistants lunch. A HUGE success, people apparently couldn't give my friend enough money!
Again, I'm humbled by the incredible folks out there. My job on that day consisted of assisting said brilliant writer to pick up said lunches and deliver them to the FOX lot. For some reason I could not remember which sandwich was which, sadly, and I couldn't find the list that, you know, detailed what was in the sandwiches. So when asked about the sandwiches, I made shit up. Some were made of reindeer. Some were made from the thigh meat of Nick Counter's minions. Basically, it was a great turnout, a great day, and hopes were high with the knowledge that Thanksgiving wasn't going to be the only time people would be at a table. That the following Monday would mark the beginning of the now four-day negotiations.
Poker: Quad queens. No writers to be found. Or, if there were, they didn't wear hats announcing it. Two hands after the QQ, I got pocket aces. Then pocket 8s.
Thanksgiving: Debunking that horrible AMPTP ad to retarded step-cousin. Bitch has a fucking PhD. From fucking St. Andrews. IN ENGLISH. She's a fucking writer. Yet, for her, it was all about the "poor studios." So, the ad worked on someone... other than that, T-Day was filling.
Day after T-Day, we headed to Bahamas. Was beautiful. Fun-filled. Gorgeous. After having faced my life-long fear last year, I decided to push myself. I went snorkeling.
Well.
Okay.
I didn't technically go snorkeling. I went on a boat that carried a bunch of folks who went snorkeling. I just paddled around in the deep end of the ocean -- preferring not to know what lay beneath me. Baby steps.
On our trip home, listened to an agent (?) talking up his client's pitch. WHO THE FUCK IS PITCHING RIGHT NOW? Ahem. Sorry. Sleep deprived. But seriously.
Today it's dealing with being back home. Then back to the grind...
Here's hoping you all had a great holiday. And that day four's when a deal's struck.
Let's start from the beginning: Assistants' picket was a HUGE success. A brilliant idea by assistant Andrew. Another brilliant idea, by an uber smart writer friend of mine: writers buying the assistants lunch. A HUGE success, people apparently couldn't give my friend enough money!
Again, I'm humbled by the incredible folks out there. My job on that day consisted of assisting said brilliant writer to pick up said lunches and deliver them to the FOX lot. For some reason I could not remember which sandwich was which, sadly, and I couldn't find the list that, you know, detailed what was in the sandwiches. So when asked about the sandwiches, I made shit up. Some were made of reindeer. Some were made from the thigh meat of Nick Counter's minions. Basically, it was a great turnout, a great day, and hopes were high with the knowledge that Thanksgiving wasn't going to be the only time people would be at a table. That the following Monday would mark the beginning of the now four-day negotiations.
Poker: Quad queens. No writers to be found. Or, if there were, they didn't wear hats announcing it. Two hands after the QQ, I got pocket aces. Then pocket 8s.
Thanksgiving: Debunking that horrible AMPTP ad to retarded step-cousin. Bitch has a fucking PhD. From fucking St. Andrews. IN ENGLISH. She's a fucking writer. Yet, for her, it was all about the "poor studios." So, the ad worked on someone... other than that, T-Day was filling.
Day after T-Day, we headed to Bahamas. Was beautiful. Fun-filled. Gorgeous. After having faced my life-long fear last year, I decided to push myself. I went snorkeling.
Well.
Okay.
I didn't technically go snorkeling. I went on a boat that carried a bunch of folks who went snorkeling. I just paddled around in the deep end of the ocean -- preferring not to know what lay beneath me. Baby steps.
On our trip home, listened to an agent (?) talking up his client's pitch. WHO THE FUCK IS PITCHING RIGHT NOW? Ahem. Sorry. Sleep deprived. But seriously.
Today it's dealing with being back home. Then back to the grind...
Here's hoping you all had a great holiday. And that day four's when a deal's struck.
posted by BooM @ 8:23 AM
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