Sleep

I'm literally tired all the time. 

-Steve

Nickelodeon and I

Steve Here:

I honestly don't know what Adam wrote before, nor do I care.

So, I started work yesterday, and I sat in a cubicle with Laura, the other Live Action Dev intern for nine hours. It was a good day overall. We got to see some pretty cool stuff that I can't talk about because I signed an NDA and don't want to lose my job, but needless to say, I'm glad I've got access to what they give us access to. It's a great place to work and I couldn't be happier. My bosses are pretty awesome and there is nothing that caps off a day at work by "catching up" via watching the pilot from Zoey 101. I go back tomorrow, and unfortunately it's what I'd call my first "full" day. I have to be up at 6:30 for an hour and ten minute walk at 7:30. It takes the same to walk back, so Monday and Friday will be 12 hour days. 

I'm SO tired right now, so this is kind of incoherent and after every sentence, I really don't feel like writing this anymore.

Saturday I go to Universal Studios. Maybe I'll let you know how that goes.

How To Pick Up A Girl

(A mediocre-looking GUY approaches an attractive young GAL)

GUY: Hi, can I buy you a drink? Look, before you say anything let me present you with what I offer. I realize I'm not the sexiest fish in the ocean, buy my plan is to slowly win you over with my charm and wit. I'll probably start this conversation by inventing some small talk about some bullshit reality TV show or something that neither of us really cares about but it's better than standing in awkward silence, right? Then I'll ask for your number which you'll reluctantly give me because you'll think, "who knows, maybe this guy is more than he seems," so we'll go out on a few dates and even though you don't really feel a connection at least you'll get a few good dinners out of it and I'll probably score a couple fairly tame make-out sessions, maybe try to cop a feel, but not if you're not digging it because I respect women. Then we'll break up when you inevitably get tired or bored of me, and I'll want to stay friends but you'll push me away and that'll be that. Then, one night, after you think our relationship has completely petered out you'll invite me to a party as your date because you'll want to make some other ex jealous and, let's face it, I'm an intelligent guy who looks pretty good in a suit. I'll follow you around all night, make sure you don't get too drunk, then let you confide in me about how the rest of the world sucks. I'll make some funny but vulgar joke like, "well, then the universe must have a really large, insatiable dick," and you'll chortle in spite of yourself and invite me back to your new, barely furnished apartment for a nightcap. I'll decline, saying I'd better not but you'll make me make a mistake for once in my life and we'll leave the party, head across town and have sex. The next day you'll have some regrets, but think I'm too nice a guy for just a hit and run one-time hook up, so we'll tentatively start referring to ourselves as our 'significant others', while keeping the sex casual and inconsistent to take the pressure off. In this confusing limbo we've created for ourselves you'll probably slip and cheat on me once or twice, but I'll forgive you and whip out the L word, which will solidify our shaky relationship once and for all. Then we figure we're both past our primes--although I am getting progressively better looking--and go for the whole shebang - maybe 2 or 3 kids, one of whom you'll wish was a girl and the other of which acts too much like me, causing us both to get on your nerves until you can't stand the sight of me or your own children because they constantly remind you of your failed, broken dreams that you never fully pursued. So you'll either file for divorce or remain unhappily married until one of us dies, which will most likely be you because, let's face it, you've really let yourself go these last several years. But I mean, that's your choice. So...how about that drink?

GAL: I mean, I guess I could use a martini.

GUY: Perfect. So...do you watch The Hills?

It's Steve's Fault

Meanwhile, deep in the jungles of Hollywood -- more specifically Fox Studios -- Adam lurked in the darkness, reading blog posts, assuming that Steve had been assuming that Adam didn't actually read his own blog, which of course, was false. But Steve is right in that I have been passive-aggressively FURIOUS about his meager posts thus far...and that's why I didn't wash out my mug last night. To get back at Steve.

Honestly though I'm with Steve in that I am trying to squeeze a lot more creative content out of my brain this semester and so far I'm off to a slow start--the first few weeks of London opened up the floodgates and I started a lot of projects, but so far the same cannot be said of LA. But I am reading a lot (mostly bad screenplays or How I Met Your Mother episodes) so hopefully that will inspire me to do something.

In the meantime I'm content eating a shitload of free, delicious food, which seems to be my main job at HIMYM so far (cheese blintzes and bacon for breakfast? Mexican spread for lunch? Yes please). Today I was also afforded the opportunity to sit in on a table read of the episode they're filming this week--pretty cool seeing all the actors, writers and producers circle up and listen to which jokes work and which ones don't. I'll bet the script on Thursday looks a lot different than the one today, and it'll be cool to see the adjustments. More creative projects to come soon, I hope. And if not...it's Steve's fault.

Sincerely,
Adam @ work

Notes on a Scandal, or, my week.

Steve Here:

So, It's been a good week and I've really yet to do anything of any value in the great City of Angels. I went to the grove today and after refusing the buy $25 polos at the Gap (supposedly "on sale") realized that I am indeed not wealthy nor have enough Old Money to survive here for very long. I did, however, meet Andre Royo ("Bubbles" on The Wire) in line for some kind of ethnic food, making my celebrity sighting count reach an unimpressive three (I saw the actor that plays Masuka on Dexter and some little kid from Hannah Montana). 

I did get to hike to the Hollywood sign yesterday, which was interesting. Due to terrorism, you can't exactly hike TO the sign, you more or less have to hike a ways above the sign and then look at the "H" and part of an "O" through a chain-link fence. It was enjoyable at the very least, and though annoying to drive in, the Hollywood Hills are gorgeous and are unlike most things that I've seen.

I start work at Nickelodeon on Tuesday, and have calculated that the walk is about an hour and ten minutes each way. It's honestly not that bad, and it gives me time to listen to music and make extraneous phone calls to various people. Also, there are large posters to look at. 

As far as personal work goes, I decided today that if I'm going to be working in LA, I need to start writing in LA. I finally started working on a second draft of Eric's Fiction Film (c) this afternoon, and fleshed out an outline for what I like to call "Vyndication" or, Rachel's Thesis Musical. I'm hoping once Selected Topics in Screenwriting starts, I'll be able to write some more stuff for me, or continue work on A Heist In Progress, but we'll see what happens. 

I think I'm rounding out all places touristy tomorrow by going to The Chinese Theater, but whether or not that happens actually remains to be seen. I think it makes Adam mad that I don't post on this as often as he does, so I am making this long to supplement my gross lack of participation. I hope everyone is enjoying themselves elsewhere in the world. Take care.

Hard Work

Tonight, after watching the sun set on the beach and chumming around in our private hot tub clinking champagne glasses and chuckling at how much influence we would soon have in the world, I sat in my gorgeous apartment and discussed with my friends how I could never imagine actually doing a legitimately strenuous day's work. Because honestly, how much would that suck?

Life is tough. I mean, not for me...but you know.

Peacefully,

Adam

Thursday Nights Haven't Been The Same Since Joey Went Off The Air

Don't ask me to explain, because we all know it's true. It seems that now there's no central hub for us youngsters to orbit around on a Thursday evening, nothing to get me pumped up for TGIF on Frid--oh that's right, that's not around anymore either. What are we doin', TV?

After day 1 in the industry I've come to the conclusion that I am now an expert on what the problem is with television in these modern, pre-post apocalyptic times in which we live. No longer are we gathering around the boob tube with our families, laughing and bonding together while eating our TV dinners and preparing for an impending atomic bomb from Russia. I think we all miss those days.

Regardless of my sentimentality, they're not comin' back so let's come up with something better instead of airing a lot of mediocre shows during primetime, which, by the way, barely exists anymore either. Because even the really good stuff doesn't particularly lend itself to community viewing, and, well, that's a shame.

So, when I finally complete the formula for the perfect new wave of futuristic television, you'll all be the first to know, and you'll all be super excited. In the meantime take solace in the fact that in the end, none of this really matters in the larger sense because it's all just superficial entertainment. There are real things going on people...so go play outside or something.

Realistically,

Adam

New Adventures of Old Christine

Steve here:

I finally got to see what it was like to make a multi-camera sitcom today, and all I can say is that it's a very long and arduous process. We went to a taping of The New Adventures of Old Christine, and though it wasn't terrible or even bad, it was long. I sat down next to an old couple from Yuma at about 4:00 and didn't get up again until 9:00. What I find most annoying about the whole process is that for obvious reasons there is a panel of monitors above you for easy viewing. Though the point is to see the actors...well...act, I found myself watching the show via the monitors unintentionally. About three hours in I began to wonder why I didn't just wait a few weeks and watch in the comfort of my own home in about twenty minutes. But who knows.

I haven't posted more because nothing has happened until today. I saw some little kid from Hannah Montana and I got to sing Happy Birthday to Julia Louis-Dreyfus, and that's the extent of my LA experience thus far. Starting on the 20th I'll be at Nickelodeon, so maybe I'll get to meet iCarly and Drake and Josh and Zoey 101. I know those aren't their names, but I really don't care. 

But now, bed.

Question: funk ROCK or FUNK rock?

Conversation: The First Dog in Space with Her Dog Friend

Russia, 1957

Friend: Hey, big day tomorrow, huh?

Laika: I mean, I guess. Probably gonna dig up a bone, eat, maybe take a nap.

Friend: What about...you know.

Laika: No. What?

Friend: The whole outer space thing.

Laika: What are you talking about?

Friend: They're sending you into space tomorrow. You must know about this. Didn't you spend all week at a training facility?

Laika: Huh. I thought they were taking me to some sort of futuristic state fair. I mean, there were monkeys. Why do they want me to go to space?

Friend: Beats me. I saw it on the news.

Laika: I don't watch the news.

Friend: You should, you're on it.

Laika: So you mean they're putting me on a space shuttle and sending me to the moon or something?

Friend: Not exactly. You'll just be orbiting Earth with no destination.

Laika: So I'm just out there in the middle of nowhere, with nowhere to go.

Friend: Pretty much.

Laika: Well at least I'll be in the capable hands of professionally trained astronauts.

Friend: Actually they're sending you up by yourself.

Laika: What?! That doesn't sound very safe.

Friend: It isn't. That's why they're testing it on you instead of sending up any humans.

Laika: So I'm a canine sacrifice? Fuck that, I'm not going. No way am I gonna be a test subject guinea pig. I'm not risking my life for the sake of someone else's bullshit science experiment. Do you know they don't even let me lick up the leftovers when there's company over?

Friend: That sucks. But I hear you get all the freeze-dried prunes and powdered Tang you want for like, a whole month.

Laika: Sold.

*According to BBC News, Laika the dog, the first living creature sent into space, died a painful death within hours of the launch. Seriously.

In Loving Memory,

Adam

The only thing that's really not funny is a movie trying really hard to be funny but isn't. But that is not what this post is about.

For some reason I feel there is something intrinsically funny about the image of a man ripping the guts out of an 8-foot-long snake.

That's right, we're watching Man vs. Wild, and that means it's been a pretty great day. In my opinion there's a fine line between awesome and hilarious...I often find myself chuckling at intense situations (not in real life, good god no...I mean movies, stories, stuff like that. Come on, I'm not trying to get calluses on my smooth model-hands by putting myself in any sort of mortal danger, real or imagined) just because they're awesome.

Like Bear Grylls ripping out snake guts with his bare hands...or Howie Long pretending like he knows how to act in the gripping yet inevitably heart-wrenching major motion picture Firestorm.

So if absurdly huge forest fires and being stung in the face by a bee in the jungle and drinking your own urine for the sake of great (and I mean GREAT) television is funny, then what isn't? I maintain that pretty much everything has the potential to be funny. I am now open to audience suggestions as to what topic cannot be made fun of with class and wit. And don't say Nazis, because honestly, it's been done.

Whimsically,

Adam

The Publicly Obscure Origins of Steve & Adam's Jazz Fusion Blog

“Hey Steve, don’t you think it’d be pretty hip to start a blog together illustrating in comic detail the various ups and downs of our experiences in Los Angeles over the next several months?”

“That sounds stupid.”

“Awesome. Can I put that in the blog?”

And so began the most prestigious, intelligent, and clever blog partnership about two young dudes’ ups and downs of their experiences in Los Angeles ever created.

I’m Adam…and I’m Steve…and this is our blog. If you don’t like it then send us a letter. An e-letter. Because we love getting letters.

Before we begin on this long and arduous journey through the series of tubes that is the Internet, I think it would behoove us to assure our avid readers that this blog will have little to nothing to do with either jazz or fusion, because (and I can’t speak for Steve on this one) I dislike jazz fusion, although this is almost entirely to do with the fact that I am unfamiliar with the art form, and I fear that which I am unfamiliar with.

With these tiresome introductions out of the way, we now feel free to proceed in broadcasting our thoughts into the world, something the world has been waiting for for billions of years, it just didn’t know it yet. So welcome to Adam & Steve’s jazz fusion blog—where the winner takes all and the loser is sentenced to an untimely and excruciatingly painful death—because this is our blog and when two people share a blog they can do whatever they want. That’s probably in a constitutional amendment somewhere. And if it isn’t…well, isn’t that what we’re fighting for?

Bittersweetly,

Adam & Steve