My Year End Awards

America's Next Top Monkey:

Howler Monkeys. Sleek, affordable, monkey.




Best Vagina:

Me again. Sorry ladies!




Best Reason To Avoid Going To Work:

Too many zombies there.

Runner-up:

Not enough zombies there.




Best New Invention

Prostitutes. Have you ever tried one? They will have sex with you for money. Recommended!




Best Movie:

American Pie Seven: What Pie Haven't We Fucked Yet, And Why Not?





Best Actor:




Irfan Khan (I'm not joking. Watch A Mighty Heart and then The Namesake, and then tell me he is not the best actor in the world.)



Best Celebrity Meltdown:

Everbody




Worst Celebrity Meltdown:

Meryl Streep. Can you please do crack or fight a hobo for a dollar or something? You are boring me with all your good acting and classy behavior. YAWN.




Best Blog:

Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen





Best New Word:

Ham


Best Celebrity Baby Name:

Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen


Best Jane Austen Book:

Shiloh

My New Year's Resolutions

Okay, I am back. Listen up, you dozen people who read my blog! Get ready for some big fucking changes around here, because I have made my New Year's resolutions, and they are so fucking good and life-changing.

1. No more investigating JonBenet Ramsay's murder.

Look, I have spent the best goddamn years of my life on this. It has turned me into a hardened detective unable to have intimate relationships. It's time to turn this case over to that lady on Cold Case. Of course, I could just follow this one last lead...

2. More bacon.

Everybody beats themselves up for not eating enough bacon, I know, it's totally cliched. I know I should realize that people love me even if I don't eat a shitload of bacon, and I know that everybody in America is making this fucking resolution and that everyone runs out and gets a membership to a bacon club right after New Year's and then gives up after like a month, but fuck it, I am really going to try to eat more bacon this year.

3. Come up with a better name for me.

Wendy sucks. It is a stupid name invented by that weird guy who wrote Peter Pan. It's not even a REAL NAME. Need new name. Candidates:

Harbinger
Gawker.com
Empire State Building
Christine

4. Fly a commercial jetliner.

When I do that, I am pretty sure you will hear about it in the news.

5. Stare more.

Are people uncomfortable enough around me? Probably not. More staring.

6. Break up with Gregory Hines.

He's dead, I gots to move on.

7. Say the word "larb" more.

8. Stop letting robots control me.

9. Find out who killed JonBenet Ramsey.

A studio chief gives notes on the Christmas story.

Hello. Am I on speaker? Take me off speaker. I hate fucking speaker phones. Okay, I read your script for the Christmas story. I loved it. If it was a girl or a donut, I would totally want to have sex with it. That's how much I liked it. We here at the studio just have a few thoughts.

Okay, we really like the opening scene with the Angel. We think the angel is quirky, he’s fun, maybe he’s Steve Buscemi. I like that guy. If he was ten percent more beatiful, I would make love to him and then never speak of it again.

Okay, so this Angel, right now you have him appearing to Mary at night in her room. Let’s do this. Mary goes out to a nightclub. Angel is a drug dealer. He gets her really high and then tells her about the baby she’s going to have. She doesn’t believe him because she’s high. And also because it’s the future, and there are lots of robots, and the robots are always lying to humans to confuse them.

Oh, I thought you knew we were setting this in the future. Yeah, that was Jeffrey’s note. But not Blade Runner future, I Robot future. Okay?

I like peppermints and handjobs. What was I saying?

Okay, right, we like Joseph, but we think, okay, we need to attract a big name to play this guy, and this guy, he stays with his wife? After she gets pregnant from somebody else? Nobody wants to play it that way. Especially Brad Pitt. I’m not saying he’s on board, but he’s not not on board. If he can get out of doing the Paul Thomas Anderson’s There Will be Presents he wants to do this. He wants his kids to be able to see the movie he does, you know?

One time, in Cannes, I punched Juliette Binoche in the face on a private plane.

Okay, so instead of staying with the wife, the husband, Joseph, goes on this like, vision quest. In Paris. And a CIA guy finds him there in a café, and he wants to recruit him, because it turns out that this guy, Angel – yeah Steve Buscemi – Angel has been running drugs out of Europe. And the CIA guy is like this guy Angel was with your wife, you want to get him right? And Joseph is like, fuck yes. So then the CIA guy gives Joseph his partner, which is a robot. But Joseph doesn’t know – is this a robot he can trust?

Okay, meanwhile, in your outline, you have King Herrod wanting to get rid of Mary’s baby and sending these three kids. What? Oh, kings, yeah, three kings to get the baby.

I love it. But. Let’s say Herrod is the French kingpin, and he thinks – see, he thinks – that Mary is carrying Angel’s baby, and he wants to kidnap Mary so he can blackmail Angel to do a job for him.

Meanwhile, the robot is training Joseph to fight, they’re going to do Krav Maga Israeli street fighting.

So, Herrod sends these three assassins who are known as the Three Kings to kidnap Mary.

Meanwhile, Mary, she’s heartbroken, she knows she didn’t do anything wrong, so she comes to Europe to find Joseph. She hears that he’s been seen at a club called Bethlehem in Berlin. She goes to Berlin. She gets hired as a dancer at the club, but she knows that soon they are going to figure out she’s pregnant. And then one night this real high roller comes in – and it turns out to be this big-time guy, Herrod.

Well, Herrod falls in love with Mary and flies her on his private jet with him to the Greek Islands to meet with Angel. So she goes. Meanwhile, Brad Pitt and the Robot are headed there on jet-skis. So, everybody’s converging on this house, right?

And then there’s this big shoot-em up gunfight, like at the end of Scarface. And Joseph shoots Herrod, then he shoots Angel. And as Angel is dying he confesses that he ruffied Mary that night and got her pregnant, and that it’s his baby, and he wants her to name him after his brother, Jesus.

So now, Joseph knows that Mary isn’t a slut, and so he stays with her and raises Jesus as his own, because that’s what Brad Pitt would do.

Also, the robot sidekick? He can shoot lasers out of his head.

Do you wish to read something smart, perhaps a post where no one says "balls?"

Well, I'm not going to write it, but you should read this:


What The Internet Is And How To Stop Mistaking It For Something Else

Christmas Carols For Creeps

All I Want For Christmas Is Your Two Front Teeth

The Last Noel, Because I Have Brought About The Apocalypse

Away In A Stranger

Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer Wants To Sell You Some Crystal Meth

Here Comes Santa Claus

Jingle Balls

Carol Of the Penis

Oh Come Let Us Adore Me

The Hallelujah Chorus, But, You Know, With Balls

I can't wait for the rape scene.

I just got this casting notice in my email:


"A travel show pilot called "Two Birds Travel." The auditions are this coming Saturday, December 15th.

E-mail a headshot at this address: REDACTED. Looking for two girls, all ethnicities, age 25 - 35. There is pay involved.

Two Birds Travel

Thelma and Louise meets Anthony Bourdain dressed in a wardrobe borrowed from Carrie Bradshaw in this travel show about two friends in search of the best a city has to offer.

From hole-in-the-wall bars to haute cuisine, backstage at rock concerts to roller-skating to the oldies, this innovative series highlights the cutting edge in food, drink, fashion and adventure. With their finger on the pulse and friends in all the right places, these two chicks are the kind of birds you hope to get seated next to at the dinner table.

Our pilot episode takes us to Los Angeles where the girls learn to fly courtesy of De La Guarda, drink Belgian ale, enjoy a guitar lesson with Morcheeba's Ross Godfried and shop in some of L.A.'s coolest, unknown stores. From Echo Park to Little Tokyo to Malibu and back again, these birds are your ultimate guides to uncovering the hippest in what's going down."

Okay, um, I see the Sex and the City and the Anthony Bourdain, but what about the Thelma and Louise?

I think they might want to add on that the job requires you to almost get raped, shoot a dude, blow up a truck, and then decide to carry out a wordless suicide pact at the end.

Please re-write.

Thanks!

I can't believe I didn't hear about this.

According to BoxOfficeMojo.com, the movie Transformers took in $319,071,806 at the box office this year. I don't think that can be right, because that means that, figuring an average ticket price of ten dollars, about 30 million people killed themselves in movie theaters this year because it is the worst movie ever and the only rational response to having to watch it is immediate self-inflicted horrible death.

Goodbye forever.

Your pal,
Wendy

Ugh

Oh dear, it looks like the strike is going to go on and on.

I'm sad about it, and angry, but there's also something sort of absurd and funny about the way it's playing out.

The kind of people who run the studios are so unbelievably rich, and so unbelievably out of touch, that their posturing has a weird, funny element to it, as if someone shipped in some 1920s robber barons to negotiate with people who actually live right now.

Most of my interaction with studio execs have been with lower-level guys. They wear suits, and one gets the feeling that they have to have their assistants log them into their AOL accounts that they signed up for back in 1997.

In one memorable meeting, we were discussing strategies for the NBC website, and one of them said to me, 'Ok, Wendy, now what would make people come to NBC.com instead of, say, CBS.com?"

And I said, and I think I'm right, the internet isn't about INSTEAD, it's about IN ADDITION TO. People who are on the internet all day (ahem, me) can visit a seemingly infinite number of sites, and visit them again and again, and the problem with how old media conceives of the internet is that they think of it like TV in 1985. Like, I'll either watch Webster OR Facts Of Life, but not both. (P.S., Facts Of Life all the way.)

I think to a large degree this kind of misunderstanding about the web is what will kill old media outright if they aren't careful. As everyone has already whispered, eventually writers will be able to take their products directly to the web, launch it through one of the major video providers (like iTunes) and then release one-a-week. People will use their Apple TV or other device to sling it onto their big screens, and that'll be it. And bye bye big studios. Of course, that means that the Apples of the world would become the new studios (here comes the new boss...), but at least the studios would understand the internet.

The reason the instead/in addition to model really matters, though, is because once you remove the time element from viewing (even a dvr can only record a couple things at once, and getting a dvd takes effort, whereas the internet is always there) then the competition model that the networks have operated on goes right out the window. In essence, then, networks will have to make ONLY good shows, because they will no longer be able to be the strongest just at a certain time, but strong compared to the entire field out there.

As it stands now, I think the moguls are banking on the writers being as clueless as they are about online content. They may spend most of their days fighting endangered tigers that their assistants smuggled into the country for them, and dining on solid-gold steaks, but the rest of us losers are wasting our time reading Perez Hilton and watching Funny or Die and hating ourselves for knowing who Julia Allison and Jakob lodwick EVEN ARE. It's hilarious that networks are saying that internet streams of shows "promote" the shows when they air on TV. If anything, it's the opposite. Or, you know, not yet, but it will be.

The networks aren't being victimized by greedy writers, they're lucky the writers aren't walking away entirely. Remember radio guys? Yeah, that's you.