Scripted

Alright, so my new passion in life is writing.

Not blogs mind you. Public journals only get you so far in life.

No, I've decided to try my hand at writing for television. You may wonder why I took a sudden swerve in the job department (after all, my last big occupation was stilt walking, but we'll get to that later). You may question my ability to write a half-hour show when my posts have been getting considerably smaller and spaced out as the months go by. You may also wonder why the title of my blog is Paste Cut Copy.

The answer to the last one is that I was having an off-day in the creative names department. Also I think Surf Ninja Delivers was already taken. Probably by some sort of Hawaii-based Asian food place. Coincidentally, if that name is not taken yet then I call dibs.

As for the other two questions I feel that I have a great and amazing original series idea (like so many other writers out there) that will make me rich and famous. Or at least get me my WGA standard 60K for idea rights. So, win-win situation I guess (if I can figure out the correct series bible format). Besides, when they okay crap like this for a whole season then I think pretty much anything can slip on by investors.

Seriously, have you watched the first episode? It's like they tried to mash up 'How I Met Your Mother' with 'Friends' after stuffing in as many unfunny lines of dialogue they could.

The writers come off as hackier than a machete wielding Jason on crack at a college orgy.

Besides the crappy script, the decision to remove the sitcom staples of a three camera studio set-up and a laugh track are just ludicrous. I'll be honest, this isn't the worst show I've ever seen, but it's up there. At least with canned responses someone can pretend the show is funny.

 So stilt walking!

My buddy calls me up the other day to ask if I can stilt walk. The answer I give him is a simple and eloquent, "No."

He says they'll train me. I ask if it pays. He says it does. I ask when I start. He asks if I can get down to the beach that afternoon. I say sure.

The event they've got going is Beach Street USA. So for all you stalkers of mine out there (you creepy bastards) you now have some idea of my geographic location.

After two unsteady hours of standing between a wall and a van on drywall stilts I decide that my knees have never done me any favors and that they are a bunch of freeloading joints. Screw 'em. I wade out into the unknown with only my wits and functional inner ear to guide me. If I fall I am determined to land on one of the fatter tourists.

I survived without a single fall. I'm also a pro stilt walker now I guess.

Sadly the stilt walking season (and Beach Street USA) has ended and I find myself again gainfully unemployed. I have made the decision never to drywall though.