Heh. We do have an LA office! He could help them figure out how to keep making money after we run out of countries to sell Dancing With the Stars to.
Can I make TV shows? Cool, awesome TV shows with, you know, awesomeness?
God, maybe I am too American for the Beeb. I can imagine the pitch meeting...
BBC: Now, tell us about your concept.
Me: It's awesome. So awesome. There's this awesome team of awesome people and what they do, see, is awesome stuff. I think with aliens. Maybe magic. But no monkeys. Maybe a robot. An awesome magic robot that does awesome stuff.
BBC: ...Sorry, I'm not following you...
Me: God! It's just AWESOME, okay?! Just give me the money and John Barrowman! What the fuck is the matter with you?!
BBC: I think we're done here.
Me: You know, if America had said that during World War Two, London would be a rubble-filled pit! So UN-awesome! Fuck!
BBC: Good day to you, sir.
Me: But...
BBC: I SAID GOOD DAY! Sorry, that sounded rude.
I know I haven't been out of the city in too long when I get annoyed checking out at a convenience store in the 'burbs. In NJ they pick up the item, scan it, put it in the bag, repeat as necessary. Hit the total button, tell me how much, take my money and make change. Here? That's all one gesture.
In New Orleans, that would also include the cashier commenting on every item, asking what you're planning to make with the stuff you're buying, commenting on the weather, asking where you work and what you do, calling one of the other cashiers over to discuss an interesting item that you're buying, and it would take five minutes. And the cashiers would also just about always address me as "sweetie" or "baby," which I hated.
Good grief, I'd better never work for a british company then--I'm already too east coast for the west coast, I'd scare the Brits away!
There's this awesome team of awesome people and what they do, see, is awesome stuff. I think with aliens. Maybe magic. But no monkeys. Maybe a robot. An awesome magic robot that does awesome stuff.
See, to me that sounds more like a SyFy pitch.
you can't skip the greetings or sign-offs when you write emails
Yeah, I don't like when these are skipped either.
See, to me that sounds more like a SyFy pitch.
No, see, it can't be a SyFy pitch. Because, in my imagination, when I pitch it I'm sober.
Because, in my imagination, when I pitch it I'm sober.
You'll never fit in at the Beeb with that attitude. Hey, is it noon yet? Let's leave early and go to the pub!
that would also include the cashier commenting on every item, asking what you're planning to make with the stuff you're buying, commenting on the weather, asking where you work and what you do, calling one of the other cashiers over to discuss an interesting item that you're buying, and it would take five minutes. And the cashiers would also just about always address me as "sweetie" or "baby," which I hated.
I can overlook the sweetie, because, well, they're Southern and can't help themselves. But the nosy questions into my life! Why do you care, stranger!
I prefer it my way, that's why I live here. But I know I'm wound a little too tight when the extra 46 seconds of human interraction is driving me around the bend.
Oh, Trudy, don't ever move to the South. Your head will explode.
You'll never fit in at the Beeb with that attitude. Hey, is it noon yet? Let's leave early and go to the pub!
Looks like I picked the wrong career to quit drinkin'.
