Hey Writers...

YES. I KNOW. It's hard, isn't it?  You kind of hate yourself right now.  I get it. I do.

Let it go.  Let the morning come.

And remember, there's hard, and then there's hard & joyous.
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This too shall pass.

Fall.

First go here.

Then go here.

neat.

UPDATE: It was only for yesterday, but it looked like this:

Public Service

HEY WRITER, ARE you so frustrated that you procrastinate by trimming your eyebrows and then make a mistake and cut too much and then think, "wow, eyebrows are stupid and I hate them and I should just cut them off and be bold about it?"

Well, don't.

You're welcome.

Alan? Is That You?

OKAY, THIS COMES courtesy Matt MacLennan. I laughed so hard I think I might have dislocated an intestine.

Because We've All Been There

Courtesy HULU, which still isn't available in Canada.

Criticals, Massed...

WELL THE RESULTS of the Dead Things Labs Critic-poll are in. It should be no surprise to anybody that, (as always on the internet) the babes rule. (Although I also suspect Canadian Idol-like block voting from the Left Coast. Oh Vancouver, you're ADORABLE. Go on...make that face!)

Alison Cunningham came out on top with 38% of voters. John Doyle from the Globe is nipping at her heels though, with 30%. Bill Brioux gets to feed his family a little longer thanks to his 12% showing, though Jaime Weinman of Macleans has the perspective to patiently explain to you when 12% was actually 16 minutes longer and therefore way funnier.

As for Rob Salem and Alex Strachan -- tied for 2% -- maybe you guys need a gimmick?

I suggest using more swears.

Um, Yeah.

I GOT BORED. Carry on.

Trouble!

IN RIVER CITY. That's what we all fear, isn't it? My friends, I've just come back from the Shangri-la land where "you wanna know what I think?" is always a rhetorical question. Where people speak their mind, and, yo, shit gets done!

Before my hellish airplane ride home (Seriously, Air Travel in the USA? It's over.) today I got to have lunch with a lovely old friend down in the Meatpacking District. She, once upon a time, was a publicist here in merry old T.O. And then she jumped ship and made a grand new start of it.

So we got talking, as is the wont, about risk, and the risk averse, and how maddening it can be when no one will say what's wrong, and when chances won't get taken, and when everything seems to be guided by... don't cause trouble. don't make waves. here's why we shouldn't do that.

I swear, we weren't talking about any countries in particular. Nosiree.

It's part of the refrain I've heard from this blog from the beginning. Don't cause trouble. Don't make waves. You can't say that!

Well, almost three years in and the occasional spot of trouble hasn't killed me yet.

All that's the way to say that, um, I'm actually in trouble right now. Crunch time to get a first draft out that has been judged, "not quite up to snuff" (It happens, baby, it happens -- 'specially when you have to write it on set.) So blogging as a priority has once again, slipped somewhere south of "get a life."

But this time, it's not just any repeat posts. Oh no, Chickens. For the next few days, we're going to revisit posts that got me a good hiding. I've often said that sometimes, shooting from the lip means having to walk something back. So you do, and you know what? It's not the worst thing in the world. We're all still here. Better to issue a correction or take your lumps than to never speak up and speak the truths that need saying, say I. Passive Aggressives of the world -- well, no fine, I guess that's okay, you manage to make that work, you really do. Wouldn't be my choice, but I suppose it's fine. It's fine. Yes. Fine.

For those who won't dare to squeak, and for those who just like to see me in pain, today we kick off the DTOS

TOUR OF TROUBLE, or, WHEN THE DEAD THINGS LOOKED LIKE THEY WERE GOING TO BE ME.

These are the posts that sparked the most negatory reaction from readers, or on the net, or from people in the industry, or from my mom, or whatever.

First one is up later today.

I know this might not seem like much to somebody like Henshaw, for whom every post is its own smart bomb, but consider this a good old fashioned warts and all fest.

As Bill S wrote:

Do you bite your thumb at me, sir?/

I bite my thumb, sir.

Enjoy my foolishness.

Sunday Sunday

WELL, I'VE GOTTA prep some questions for my Blogtalk Radio interview with Rent-A-Goalie's Christopher Bolton (2:15 pm ET, or tune into the archived stream anytime.)

Then I'm gonna play some cards.

For some reason when I woke up this morning, I just was in a very good mood. There are plenty of birds chirping outside my window, the sun is out and shining brilliantly off the lake. Whatever you've got going on, I hope you can make a bit of time to enjoy the finer things in life.

You know...like The Hoff.

Fin.

I'M DONE WITH the writing thing. I'm quitting to pursue my first love, the clarinet. Goodbye.

EDIT: okay, yeah, that was lame. Especially when stacked against Alex's April Fools Goof, which really, honest to god, alllmost got me.

Jim Shaw? Road to Damascus moment? C'mon Epstein. That was gilding the lily. Although he does get bonus points for proving that nobody ever clicks the links.

While we're at it...here's my favorite clearly goofing post from the past (which recently inspired two very different emails -- one from a guy who knows the guy and actually experienced the program -- which sounds cool -- and the other from a cease and desist nutter who thinks I'm somehow...harming Jesus or something.)

Of course, it was the baby Jesus who not only led me to Mike Crain, but who also put me in a work situation where I worked with another "Mike Crain."

Mysterious Ways, he has, the LORD does...

Dear Spicy Tuna Roll,

WILL YOU marry me?

Love,
Writerboy

Me and My Perfect Radio Face

THERE WERE FOUR eagle-eyed emails, so congratulations to them.

Indeed, I can reveal to one and all how yours truly made a cameo last night on THE BORDER as Dr. Edwin DeSoto, some nefarious nuclear physicist.

Which is all the more thrilling since I barely passed Grade 10 Bio. Mr. Balogh would be so pleased.

This should settle once and for all the debate of which side of the camera I'm destined to be on.

However, this was not my first appearance on the CBC. Oh no. There's that deep dark episode of Hangin In from the 1980's, and I believe I danced in a cage on a CBC sketch show once.

But now I'm a scientist. Wait til I tell Ma.

Mad props to the props people.

Next week's penultimate episode of The Border comes courtesy of the talented (and deeply creepy) mind of Sarah Dodd. It's a doozy.

I'm Guessing That Explains the Harlem Globetrotters Showing Up

I'M SORRY. THIS IS JUST AWESOME.

A surprise birthday party for Dawn Wells, the actress who played Mary Ann on "Gilligan's Island," ended with a nearly three-hour tour of the Teton County sheriff's office and jail when the 69-year-old was caught with marijuana in her vehicle while driving home.

Everybody's A Critic

PRETTY SELF-EXPLANATORY, really. Language is NSFW.

From Dan Deacon and Liam Lynch, "Drinking Out of Cups." Sublime.

Reminds me of a few people, really.



H/T to Mattypants.

See What Happens When There's No TV?

THIS STUFF always makes me smile. Sadly, I don't think since the day I was born that I've been able to be still for five minutes. Might be something to work towards.

Happy Thanksgiving

TO ALL MY U.S.A. readers, but especially to my Dad and Little Sis, who are in the great state of Florida today. Here it's snowing. Yeah, I said it. Stop. Stop laughing. Wow. I wish you gravy stains that won't come out.

As a half Yankee, there are three things I'm thankful for this Holiday-on-which-I-shall-be-working:

1. The other fantastic writers, fans, and TeeVee partisans I've had the pleasure of meeting because of this blog.
2. Great notes. When they come they make me want to frame them and cry, not necessarily in that order.
3. The fact that tomorrow is my very last day on The Border. I'll be taking time off for basically the first time in about two years.
   

Have a great day.

It's The Little Things

I'VE HAD my name on a Call Sheet before, but for some reason, this is just cooler.
What a great crew!

So Very Wrong.

I can't help it. She's a powerful woman. And that's hot.

You See...

ESSENTIALLY, ALL writers are geeks.

And we geek out over strange things, sometimes.

I wonder what Sarah Vowell thinks of this?

Cause I think it's pretty dang cool.

Mark Askwith is a Stone-Cold Gangsta

IT'S TRUE. Sure, one might think that there's nothing to celebrate in a team named after an Emilio Estevez movie winning Hockey's Golden Grail, but at least it provided those of us who care (all nine of us) with a breathtaking end to the semi-infamous writers hockey pool.

Jim Henshaw has all the relevant stats here, but as the only one in the pool who I believe knows Mr. Askwith personally, let me run down for you just what a truly amazing gangsta he is.

See, not only did Askwith pick his own team...he pretty much picked mine, too. I mean, really.

So sure, I finished down the middle of the pack. But when he gave me the choice of the two teams and he talked about it, he framed the discussion as, "do you want to have fun, or do you want to win?"

I said I wanted to have fun.

He took the team that won.

That's how much of a gangster he is.

Congratulations, Mark. You scare me.

And as for you, Mark Farrell, man it's a good thing you're funny.