Branch like Michelle

Friend and I share a passion for both television and film. We tried to split the passion up one time. He was going to take TV, and I was going to take the movies. But we couldn’t do it. We each loved them both too much to part ways. That would be like telling a Divorcee she can only keep one of her two kids, while the other one has to go live with their abusive, alcoholic father. I’m not saying Friend is either abusive or alcoholic, but he has been known to drink a few Heinekens and throw things. One night after a brainstorming session, he launched my saltshaker off the upstairs balcony. The thing damn near cleared an entire city block. I would have been impressed if I didn’t already know he played baseball back in college.

I knew I would never see my saltshaker again, but that magnificent toss got me thinking athletically. (Trust me, this never happens) Sports. What if we started to branch out Studio X? Friend and I had always talked about expansion, and this would be perfect for him. It could be his little personal passion within the studio. And I would have nothing to do with it because I fucking hate sports. Well, I would bang David Beckham’s wife, but that’s about it.

So here we are…two saltshakers later, and a new Sports Branch of the Studio. I was happy for friend because he finally had some people to talk teams and players with. Well, he might call it talking. It looked like yelling to me. Every time I go over there to visit and see how things are running, he's up in some new agent’s face threatening their career. He has all his new employee’s pissing their pants at the very thought of disappointing him. It’s really quite impressive.

So, with friend out ordering around his new team like a bunch of Nazi soldiers, I started to get lonely. Well, not so much lonely…I just wanted something like that to call my own. This problem was solved before it ever really became a problem. The only other form of popular entertainment that wasn’t being represented by our studio was music. I had been a musician all most my entire life, and always thought of it as a Plan B incase this whole film thing never worked out. Fortunately it did work out…very well, and from that point I just kind of left music behind.

Studio X launched its record label just last month, and I’ve actually been out signing artist myself. After it gets old I will let my A&R people start doing it, but right now they just wash my car whenever I tell them to. In college, I would be playing local bar shows with my band, Autifoy, and praying that after each gig, some Label Scout would walk up to us and ask if we wanted to sign a record contract. Well, now I’m that guy, and it’s so fun to have control over another person's fate like that. You may not think it’s fair, but it really is an even trade. I hear something I like; I change the lives of those responsible. See, I knew if I tired hard enough I could make it all the way through a blog without referencing a single pair of boobies. And no, that didn’t count as a boob ref, I checked with the judges.

AJ

Pre-Production Blues

Movies get on my nerves. You write a script and then you revise it. Then, you revise it again. Then, you get yelled at and revise it again. You get the picture. Then, if you’re lucky, you whore yourself out to someone you can’t fucking stand like Lindsay Lohan. Please Lindsay, I know that your your abilities and firecrotch would be great in this film. I’ve got a role for both, and I believe that you could win best actress while your firecrotch is sure to take home best supporting actress. After that, you go to every studio in town and you tell them where you stand. If you have a first look deal (like we do with Paramount) you have to go to them first even though you don’t think they’ll do justice to the film. You tell them that you have Lindsay Lohan attached to this script, but you’re still in talks with her firecrotch.

They’re either going to pass, (which is extremely rare because Friend and I have a proven track record for making hits), green light the project immediately (which is also extremely rare because studios are owned by corporate entities who don’t make immediate, intuitive decisions), or put it on the shelf (which is the standard). Basically, they don’t want to make the movie, but they also don’t want anyone else to make it. So, they give you enough option money to keep it on the shelf until either the material outdates itself or you're working on a movie they want to do.

By the time you have cleared a few weeks while Lindsay is out of rehab to make the movie and you’ve cleared a few hours while firecrotch isn’t hugging and asking her friends to come inside and look around you’ve got your lead actress but the movie is dead. You tell the actress that the movie is on hold so they change their schedule. You go back and tell the studio that you have the actress, so it comes alive again. Pre-production usually means no production. Movies live and die in pre-production.

So that’s where we stand now. We’re floating in the magical land of pre-production. We love Jennifer Morrison and we think that she’s exactly what we’re looking for. I suggested Jenna Fischer from “The Office” but we ultimately determined that she’s too plain Jane for us. As soon as Jennifer got the script and made a verbal commitment, we went back to the studio. They said she wasn’t a big enough star. I completely sold her and the studio agreed. I go back to her and she’s making some dumbass comedy with Rob Schneider called Big Stand. I would tell you the logline, but I only have so much time too live and can’t waste time on pre-fabricated movies that were made up in some movie factory to appeal to fucking retards that have ten bucks for a movie ticket. Look it up for yourself on imdbpro. If you don’t have imdbpro-pay for it.

Well, I’ve got a meeting in five minutes with Don LoFontaine (the movie guy who does all the voiceovers). He’s doing the voiceover work for my nieces soccer banquet. He owes me a favor for when I let him hang out on set during a famed actresses’ topless scene. Would tell you who it is, but I’d rather work with her again. If you’re curious, they looked like this (.)(.).

LD

Position Filled

Finally. I got lucky and cast this fucker while Friend was in the Fried Chicken State, or whatever Kentucky’s nickname is. I know California is the Golden State, I forgot the others. Or maybe I wasn’t paying attention. We learned the 50 state’s nicknames in the sixth grade, and that’s when girls started to sprout boobies. What was I supposed to do? Pretend I gave a shit that someone once suggested that Iowa be forever referred to as “The Hawkeye State” in tribute to Indian Leader Chief Black Hawk? No. My classroom was filled with a bunch of once-flat-chested 12-year-old girls who magically erupted into C-cups over the summer break. If Social Studies was that mind blowing, I pinky promise I would have been paying attention.

We decided to go with Jennifer Morrison for the part. She was awesome on the first three seasons of House M.D. The network must have thought so too when they decided to show their appreciation by making her character resign out from under Dr. House and be forced to continue working in a less camera worthy Unit of the same Hospital. Some people over at Fox tried to call me in regards to this decision. I didn’t answer. Of course they left a message flipping out about scheduling conflicts and such, but I don’t think they will have too hard of a time getting in her shots. She has a lousy 45 seconds of screen time or less during each hour-long episode. That’s why I wanted to steal her away. With our studio’s reputation for winning statues, even she will be telling them to go fuck their selves.

Punch me in the face and call me Gumby. I forgot about meeting up with my therapist. I was supposed to be doing this blog so I could stop going to that cunt, now it’s making me miss my sessions. I’m kidding. I love my time with Dr. Houston, but if I catch any lip over this or if she even thinks about telling me to nix the blogging now that I’m actually enjoying it, I will choke slam that overpriced bitch right through her coffee table. Again, I’m only kidding, and not just because I assume she will be reading this, I just thought that situation might be funny: The Coroner shows up on the scene of the murder to meet with his team of Medical Examiners, and they are discussing with LAPD the cause of death. Everyone seems puzzled, but one of the young new guys walks up to the Police Chief after thinking he’s put this whole thing together and says, “Sir, umm, I think she was choke slammed.”

AJ

The Week My Boss Saw My Boobs....Three Times Part 2

First, let me say that I hold a law degree from Duke. I am a professional woman who wants nothing more than to
make it in this industry. Monday morning-very uncomfortable to say the least. At this time, I was dating a guy who moved to NYC after college. I told him that my boss saw my breasts and he freaks out and gets all jealous.

I tell him that it was clearly an accident and that he has seen my boobs many more times than my boss has-sorry mom. It's been three weeks since I've seen him at this time, and he starts saying that he knows that he's seen my boobs more but they may have changed since he saw them last. I tell him that they haven't changed, but he keeps pressing the issue to where we can't have a normal conversation without my boobs taking over.

Finally, being the excellent negotiator that I am from law school, I suggest that I'll send him a current picture of my boobs so he can tell that they haven't changed. Of course, he agrees. I take the picture the picture on Monday night. I'll admit it, I took the picture like fifty times from different angles. I sent the picture to him at like three in the morning before work hoping and praying that this discussion will be over the next day. The title said, "My two titties for my itty bitty." That's a nickname I call him. Yeah, weird time in my life. Get over it.

I go to work on Tuesday and the tension is just killing me. Every time I see LD, I can't help but to think that he's imagining his assistant holding his Blackberry standing topless in front of him. So I decide to go have a conversation with him. He's at an all day meeting over at CAA and won't be back until 5. I really wanted to get this off my chest. Sorry for the pun. To see if the problem with my boyfriend is alleviated, I call him at lunch. I ask him about the picture and he asks me when I'm going to send it.

I rush back to my email and yup, you guessed it. Sent it to LD by accident. I rush back into his office hoping to fix this problem. I try everything to break into his email. The phone keeps ringing so I'm running back and forth to his office trying to delete this picture. Finally, I have the first assistant come into his office. I close the door and tell him my problem. Being the male dominated mind that he is, he tells me that the only way he's giving me the password to LD's email is if I show him my boobs also. Listen, I'm not a slut. Really. But at this moment, I knew my professional career was on the
line.

I tell him that if he opens the email, I'll let him see the picture. He reasons that he could already do that on his own and plus he wants to see real life hooters. Am I in seventh grade? He says that I have to show them for ten seconds. I can't believe I am telling this story. Well, here I go, boobs in the open air trying to save my job.

LD bursts through the door chatting away on his phone. I'm still showing my boobs to the assistant. Being a veteran at this
situation now, I just turn to LD and show him as well. He says, "I'll call you back." Hangs up. Looks at me. "Do you really want me to see your tits or something?" Wow. He tells assistant number one to get out and tells me I'm fired. I start crying and tell him the wholestory. He softens a bit until I get to the bribe part about assistant number one. This pisses him off, and I mean he loved this kid.

As for me, I got to keep my job and my dignity. As for assistant number one, the last I heard he moved back to Michigan after he couldn't even get a job at Starbucks. The guy had a Harvard MBA and got blacklisted throughout LA. The cool thing about it was that LD never told the story to anyone. He said I would eventually get the chance to tell it on my own terms-so here it is. As for the picture, LD says it's stored away in an email account somewhere just waiting to
be posted on Perez Hilton if I ever screw him over. Hey, he's not the head of one of the most prolific studios in Hollywood because he's stupid.

SM

The Week My Boss Saw My Boobs....Three Times Part 1

I am a beautiful small planet that has the privilege to work under the
sun on a daily basis. A million comets and asteroids would give
anything to be in my solar position.

Hello all: I'm LD's second assistant Sadie. He makes me say things
like that on a daily basis because he thinks it's funny. Don't get me wrong, Studio X is the best place any assistant in this town could work. LD stopped off in Kentucky on his way back from the Yankees game to see his parents. He claims that they don't have internet there so he needed me to post for him. He has been getting his pilot's license for six months and he does great while in the air, but he can't land. He freaks out once the plane starts going down and refuses to be in the cockpit.

So in the sake of comic relief, LD wanted me to relay the story about
the time he saw my boobs. This is possibly the most embarrassing
story of my entire life, but if you want to move up in Hollywood you have to do as you're told. I was nearly fired for this big misunderstanding, and I had no idea what was going on, with my life being the sitcom that it is.

So here goes. LD and AJ along with some other investors, bought a
nice pad out in Malibu in the summer of 2006. The place needed some
renovations before they put in back on the market. So they decided to
have a massive beach party while the place was being worked on. I had been working at the office for two weeks (that's right two weeks before my boss saw my boobs).

So I show up to the party in a sundress, trying to be as professional
as possible for my first office party. The party is going along well
and everyone is drinking and having a good time. AJ introduced me to
Ryan Reynolds and I thought I was going to faint after he ripped off
his shirt on the way to the beach. Everyone cleared out of the house
before I realized that I had forgot my bathing suit.

I relayed my problem to AJ and he relayed it to LD's wife. She said
that she had an extra bathing suit in the bedroom and for me to find
one that fits. By this time everyone has left for the beach and I go
into the bedroom to change. Bottoms are on and I'm just trying to
figure out if this top ties in the front or the back. A Blackberry on
the bed begins to ring and I hear footsteps. I pick up the Blackberry
to see who's calling. The door swings open with LD standing at the
door.

Here's the thing. He doesn't freak out. Doesn't even blink an eye.
He looks me right in the eye and then looks down at my breasts. Looks back in my eyes and quickly says, "nice." And walks out. The most awkard moment of my entire life. This story is far from over, and it only gets more embarrassing as it goes along. Stick around for part 2.

SM

Casting

The things that came out of their mouths when auditioning for the
prostitution role made me sick. When Friend and I were contemplating this Olsen thing, it started off as a joke. We were settled on Scarlett Johansson and finally we were like, Scarlett is in every movie that requires a young woman to play a serious part. And she's a great actress but I can't ever take her seriously because she's sporting an e-cup, and the whole time she's trying to make me believe in her character, all I can do is stare at her hooters just trying to imagine how huge they can possibly be and why the other actors on set aren't constantly asking if they can see and/or feel her boobs.

So we're contemplating young actresses to throw in the young
prostitute role, and he suggests the Olsen twins because if one of
them pulls a Lily Tomlin on the set, we'll fire her and hire the
other. That's the last I heard of it, but I show up at the studio
today and they're both sitting in the lobby. They both spring to
their feet and start telling me how much they love the script and the
role.

Mary-Kate blew Ashley away, and we really didn't know what to do. I
finally got up the courage to tell Ashley that she wasn't getting the
role, and it turns out I was talking to Mary Kate. I kept confusing
them, so I hatched this plan that I thought was brilliant. I told my
assistant to spill his Jamba Juice on Mary Kate so I could tell them apart.

I was able to tell them apart especially when Mary Kate told me that
she would never work with our studio again and that she told her
sister Ashley that I said she was a shitty actress. In situations
like this I really wish I could keep my mouth shut, but it doesn't
look like it's happening anytime soon. I told her that I would
blacklist her all over town, that she and Ashley's best gig in the
coming years would be a doublemint commercial, and that even Uncle
Jessie couldn't get her out of this mess. Back to the drawing board.

LD