I’m packing up for Singapore (leaving tomorrow for a fun 19 hour flight that stops over in South Korea — where I will attempt, for that hour, to solve the conflict over there) so not much of a blog for today, however…
Miss Daisy Whitney, a prominent voice in this whole online deal did an interview with me at the LATV Festival about the 7-Eleven Road Trip and some of the international deals we’ve done of late.
Daisy, by the way, is one of the coolest people around and has impeccable tastes in scarves.
I was doing a film shoot with Mr. Mark Gantt, recently — Mark, if you don’t know, is the producer, star, writer and I think assistant gaffer on The Bannen Way. The Bannen Way, if you don’t know, is a Sony-funded web series, feature film, action-drama-comedy, all-around good entertainment and, oh, now that I’m thinking about it, I’m pretty sure Mark was also a production assistant on Break a Leg, or something. I forget. I don’t talk to the crew.
Anyway, Mark, along with a few other Break a Leg actors (Alexis Boozer, Daniela DiIorio, Flynn Kelleher, Drew Lanning and myself) are all theoretically starring in a theoretic new series that is written by my brother Vlad and I and produced, as per usual, by him, me, Justin Morrison and Dashiell Reinhardt… you know, all of the same people who did Break a Leg and run Happy Little Guillotine Films.
Here’s my point. I’m talking to Mark about the web series community and I notice this odd feeling welling up inside of me. Part of it is attraction, because Mark looks like a rugged Tom Cruise after life really knocked him around, but the other part of it feels strangely like… bitterness.
Now, I’m not really sure where it comes from because I actually like everyone quite a bit in the community. Sure, I sometimes complain about them being guilty of over-pleasuring one another with their mouths, but I think there’s an amazing group of talented, innovative and unique entertainers who have been creating some fantastic stuff.
So, I wonder — why? Why the bitterness? And then I realized it.
When we started, online video was an in-between, a purgatory for filmmakers who hoped that a TV or film producer would accidentally stumble on their video while doing a sweeping search for porn, watch it, and then pay them millions to get it made. In other words, we all wanted to be the It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia guys and the Internet was one way to get noticed but not the place where our shows would actually… survive.
Every moment of Break a Leg was a fight. We were the David against the no-budget, full-time job, no-real-way-to-make-money-like-this Goliath, who is way worse than the Biblical Goliath in that he comes with more poverty. And as we started getting more and more press and more and more attention, and people like NBC and CBS started calling, we had this feeling of… maybe..? Maybe?! MAYBE?!
…but no.
No one knew what to do with anyone online at that time. They still don’t. CBS Interactive called us because they wanted to fund a series for a very decent amount of money, and then in a week told us they didn’t, in fact, have that money (lost in their couch cushions or something). Other networks we talked to did a lot of, “Call us when you have something.” – “But we have a lot.” – “We have no money.” And for some bizarro reason, even though we were getting press in places like the Wall Street Journal and the LA Times, agents absolutely refused to acknowledge our existence (still do, in fact).
When Break a Leg ended, we were exhausted and a little jaded. Okay, a lot jaded. It took a good half a year to start up the optimism engines again, and then things started happening for us. This blog was a huge help (I know, I KNOW — I’ll write more in it!). Blip.tv was and is our main benefactor without whom we wouldn’t be anywhere. FOX Italy bought Break a Leg. And our branded entertainment campaigns started becoming bigger and bigger and culminated in the 7-Eleven Road Trip (again thanks to Blip.tv) – a new and different kind of branded entertainment beast.
In short, we’ve done well.
So, why the bitterness? Because, I now realize, somewhere in the corner of my brain, near the part that’s responsible for hitting on women, I still think — after all we’ve done,why aren’t we on TV? This is JUST the Internet.
(The reason it’s in that part of the brain, by the way, is because being on TV makes hitting on women way easier.)
And as I realized that, I also realized what our job is, now, as producers of this content. If I — someone whose career has been made by online entertainment — am still not used to the idea that this isn’t Purgatory but an actual place where entertainment can live, then people who have lived and breathed TV and Film — networks, agents, producers, ad agencies — surely can’t even fathom it.
So, what’s our job? Our job is to not pigeon-hole ourselves the way that people tend to pigeon-hole online content — i.e. only 5 minute videos work, only sketch comedy works, only catering to one loud niche audience works, etc. – but to see this as our playground and to try, desperately try, to show that not only can we, the new breed of entertainment, create fantastic, innovative content on-line (short form and long, experimental and just plain ol’ amazing), but we can also get that content to sell and make money.
Because, we’ve grown up, as a community — I was bitter of the way things were, but that’s not the way things are. We’re at a different stage of our evolution in entertainment, we can’t just be satisfied to make things and release them and say, hey, that was pretty good, right? We have to think like businessmen as well as artists, we have to show that not only can we make great stuff, we can also sell it.
And once we do that, that’s when we reach the next level. Where online entertainment truly competes with TV in every capacity.
As for me and my bitterness. We’ve resolved the conflict. It’s a simple thing to realize — my whole life I’ve hated doing what I was supposed to do in a particular path. I never wanted to write spec scripts, beg for an agent and then be someone’s writing assistant on a terrible show — I wanted to do it my way and this is what we’re doing. This is the genre in which we’re playing, where our successes and failures are solely dependent on our talent, hard-work, and ideas.
And you know what, bitterness? I’m starting to really like that.
(Okay, that’s it. More blogs to come — I swear, this time. I’ll be in Singapore all week next week and between the 18-hour flight and the fact that we’re doing a seminar on online entertainment and having dozens of meetings with producers/businesses in Singapore just has to be written about.)
A little while ago I wrote a post on patience. The idea was twofold — on one hand, I hate when people tell me to be patient and that, to succeed, waiting seems to be the key (by the way, patience does not equal inaction — you should be working daily on doing something that helps your career. Waiting patient on nothing doesn’t work quite as well). On the other hand, I must and am learning to enjoy the experience of trying to succeed because, as cheesy and irritatingly-8th-grade-English-Lit-poetry-paper as it sounds, it’s more about the journey and the adventure than actually getting there.
Except getting there would be pretty awesome too.
The last month or so we’ve (and my “we’ve” I mean my production company: Happy Little Guillotine Films) been trying desperately to get a big, big gig. It’s — you know in movies when the lawyer talks about getting that “big account” — well, this was the big account. Our competition was absolutely ridiculous — networks and companies seventeen times our size (we counted). The job would be a month long excursion, with easily over a month of pre-production and it would have a budget that is roughly 10,000% of Break a Leg.
In other words, there was absolutely no way we were getting it. We’ve had a lot of things pop up like this – a lot of maybe’s — and this was just another thing we had already mentally geared up to lose. We had two things that gave us a little bit of hope: the first, we made a video demo for the company to show them what the end result of the project may look like — which, and I say this with all the humility I can muster, we absolutely, positively rocked.
By the way, to all you fledgling production companies out there — this is the way to do it. The only way we can compete against the big guys is by being more agile than them. Throwing together full-scale video proposals instead of pitch sheets go a long way in selling our services and talents. Bigger companies can’t do this because they can’t even think about doing a video without paying their brain 50,000 dollars for the suggestion.
The second thing we had going for us is Blip.tv. I have to write a post called, “Ode to Blip.tv” because they’re easily one of the best companies around. Blip.tv is pertinent to this community. Hell, Blip.tv is one of the reasons this community is even here. This deal was through Blip, who we’ve been working with very closely in the past few months. They have a fantastic reputation and brilliant salespeople and between Blip and our talents, we had to trust that we were at least somewhat in the running.
As it turns out, patience actually kind of works. As it turns out, all the no’s do, eventually, lead to a yes — because, dear friends, we got the motherfucking deal!
It’s still hard to believe because, we’re so very used to saying, “Sigh, at least we were close…” or, “Sigh… it’s the adventure that blahblahblahs….” it was hard (and amazingly fun) to get a hold of my crew and be able to actually say, “We got the deal.”
Is it what we want to do with our film careers? Not necessarily. We want to make shows and movies and while this will be a show, it’s not quite the style of show that we’re used to. But that doesn’t matter. We love the challenge of it, we love the potential of it, and we think we can hit it out of the park.
So, wherever any of you live, whatever you’re doing, you all have to take a shot of something delicious and strongly alcoholic to celebrate with us. Okay? Okay.
I do find it funny, though. Even with this big job and the promise of future jobs coming in to match its scale, there’s still a small chance that nothing will happen after this. That we’ll make the money, do the job, and never work in film again because no one will ever hire us again. Is it likely? No. Can it happen? Sure. It’s a very weird career we’ve all gotten ourselves into.
But I digress — there’s a lesson in here somewhere, for me, for you, for anyone, and it’s — you know all those cliches that people tell you? They’re cliches because they’re right. Be patient, work hard, enjoy the journey and, the most important one, love what you’re doing more than anything else. Love what you’re doing enough to torture yourself to succeed in it, love it when you’re miserably failing and love it when you finally get some kind of break, love it in the morning, and in the afternoon, love it in the evening and down beneath the moon, love it until you can’t imagine doing anything else and then, only then, will you maybe, just maybe, get to where you want to be.
My main mode of professional contact is email. Sure, social gatherings are important and nothing quite beats the intimacy of getting a cup of coffee and/or vodka with someone to win them over. But that’s a luxury few can afford in a world where most people are far too busy to waste time doing silly things like sitting and drinking something.
Which means that for communication, email is king.
I recently (yesterday) accidentally sent an email invitation to “See My Photos on Facebook!” to hundreds of people who had ever received or sent an email to me. And while I pondered how many penis-related mailing lists I accidentally signed myself up for with that action, I stumbled upon the thought of how important email really is. And not just email itself but the art of the email.
There are hundreds of books that try and teach you to be charming, hilarious, attractive and socially capable — but none (and I say that with the full power of no research at my back) talk about how to be all those things over email. See, the thing with email is that, unlike meeting someone in person, people can completely ignore your emails. “Hey, want to meet for lunch?” you ask someone — and, in six months, they respond, “Sorry, just got this. Nope.”
Luckily, I’m a neurotic writer, email (there it goes again) fits my personality quite well. I have even arrogantly decided that, throughout the years, I’ve developed my email writing skills enough to declare myself a professional emailer.
Below is a list of tips that I have gone a long way in helping me further my career and, in the process, develop a few new friendships. So, without further ado, here we go…
Leave a Personality Hook
Emails should be professional, yes, but professionals get professional emails all the time. Hundreds of them. It’s dull and it means these people — who are, in fact, people and not corporate drones — have to be their boring, professional selves all day. Even in writing. Even in an art form. So, bring themselves out of themsselves — give them what I always (just thought of this) call, “the personality hook.”
Let’s say you’ve been introduced to someone who can theoretically help you. An agent, the head of a production company, someone you need in short. You send them a professional email, the body of which thanks them for their time, introduces you to them, and generally asks for whatever you were going to ask for. Here’s where the hook comes into play, are you ready? Are you taking notes? Are you rolling your eyes? Okay, good.
After your main paragraph, throw in one quick sentence that’s a very casual joke. It can be about the person who introduced you, it can be about… anything. Self-effacing, poking fun at the topic, whatever it is, just give them a little something. The key is that it should be a comment that begs for a response. An amusing question, perhaps, but it should lure them into biting.
They are the fish, you are the fisherman — what you’re doing is seeing what kind of bait they’re into.
The hope is this: once they read your email, they’ll not only respond to the body but make a joke back. Then, you’re in. What starts happening, if you’re good, funny and can pick up on their sense of humor, is that before you know it, your emails are less professional and more jokey. That seems backwards but it isn’t — people won’t help Random Guy Who Needs My Help as much as they’ll help Guy I Can Joke Around With.
I know this sounds absolutely ridiculous, mildly manipulative and kind of dumb, but in a world where we’re constantly answering emails, it’s how friendships are made. It’s how you can break someone out of their auto-response and get their personality involved.
Brevity is the Soul of Wit
You know who said that? God. No, that’s not true, it was Shakespeare — but it may as well have been God. Don’t expound. Don’t send a 30 page letter from the war. Just write what you need, keep it fast, keep it fun, keep it easy, and send it off. Trust me, you’ll be doing everyone a favor.
Don’t Write Like An Idiot
Remember all those lessons from school? Like how “u” actually has three letters in it? It’s time to use those. It doesn’t matter who you’re emailing, start getting in the habit of spelling correctly and using proper grammar. Sending a poorly written email to a higher-up is a lot like calling them a racial epitaph in person (it’s true), so take some time, proofread, and make sure you don’t write like an idiot.
This also helps for love letters, by the way. “I luv u” is all fine and dandy if you’re 14 and texting, but it’s no way to electronically please a lady.
Gmail, Gmail, Gmail
You know how getting to know someone is important? Gchat is just perfect for it. I love when I email someone I need to meet and they have Gmail. It’s the easiest thing to add them and, after some time, shoot them a quick comment on Gchat. If they bite, you start a conversation. You can really draw someone out, connect, and do the whole personality hook much quicker.
I loves me some Gmail.
Respond a Day Later
Sometimes, really busy people take an irritatingly long time to get back to you. Don’t rush in emailing them back — every email is a reminder to them that they have to get back to you. If you email them three reminders, you get really irritating. So, say they respond to you with, “We’ll get back to you in a couple of days!” Wait a day, maybe even two, and respond to them saying, “Great! Looking forward to it.” Or something in that vein. It’s a reminder camouflaged in a simple response.
Follow-Up, But Don’t Be a Douche
My “Don’t Be a Douch Rule” stretches out to not just email but every facet of life. Yes, follow-up after a week. Yes, check-in. No, don’t bother them. No, don’t expect a response. No, don’t be a douche about it. If they’re not responding, they’re not interested — give it a month, give it a couple of check-ins, if there’s nothing, well then, you don’t need them and they don’t need you.
Chill The Mailing List out
If I emailed you, it doesn’t mean I want to forever be on your mailing list. Please leave me alone, you’re becoming comparable to the guy that keeps talking about my “love hammer.”
Don’t Invite 500 of Them to Your Facebook
It struck me that while I did it by accident, I can see people doing this purposefully. It’s probably not worth it. Partly because it’s really annoying, and partly because you probably don’t want anyone who can maybe hire you in the future to see the photos of you with that prostitute that your friends thought would be totally funny to tag you in.
Finally, Don’t Be A Douche
I’d like to reiterate this. Don’t make friends so that those friends can help you. Don’t email people and play nice until you get ahead — let’s not continue to make the entertainment business a place of faux relationships and backstabbery. Don’t be a douche and good things will happen, really.
That’s all for my email tips. Feel free to add your own to the comments! I’d love to hear your own tips and tricks!
I tried, I really, really tried to update regularly last week but — it’s been hectic and, well, I haven’t.
I’m in the middle of like three blogs that, personally, I think will just rock, so — those will be coming promptly, hopefully.
In the meantime, an update from all the daily going-ons of the web series creator. The wild musings, if you will.
Ready? Here we go:
-I just, purely by accident, invited 540 people from my Gmail to join my Facebook. I did this because Facebook suggested I invite my Gmail friends, and I was like — well, alright, Facebook! So I chose four out of the 540, clicked Send Invites and… well, I can only imagine Facebook said -- you know what, guy? There are 540 people who would KILL at the chance to look at some of your Facebook pictures. Add them too. Yes, even the guy who sent you the email with this subject line: “Your lovestick won’t get tired!”
Which is great, because frankly, I think it’s time me and LoveStick Guy played Farmville together.
UPDATE: Oh, I’m so happy. I think my Facebook invite also applied to what must have been a job email because I just received an email with the subject: “Check out my facebook pictures” and the email body says:
“Thank you for submitting your application. We will review it and get back to you if there are any next steps.
Thanks!”
God I hope I get it.
-Our new show, Lovemakers, is getting closer and closer to becoming a reality. I think. We’ve teamed up with a real matchmaking company and we’ve gotten a brilliant Executive Producer who knows his way around the marketing world the way I know my way around sending 540 Facebook invites to my Gmail friends. We’ve got everything we need to make a great show except the money and I’m hoping that’s a hop and a step away.
The whole process has been a lot like gathering an army. If it works, I’ll detail how I did it, step by step, and tell you what I’ve learned. So far, I’ve learned that you’ve just got to try everything, talk to everyone, and have a good idea that people genuinely like. Then just target who you need and work your ass off to get them behind the project.
-We’ve shot around three-four pitches for various big brands while pitching as many to others. We’re at a wall that if we can push through, can make our production company a profitable enterprise. But it’s a damn heavy wall.
-We shot a Pilot for a completely different show — not Lovemakers, not Break a Leg — a new show. We envision it as a side project that can work as a constant branded entertainment commercial as well as a vehicle for what we think is a really fun little product. It stars me and Justin Morrison (Chase Cougar in Break a Leg) and as soon as we’re done with the final cut, I’ll go about trying to make sure you all get to see it.
-My brother and I may be in the midst of writing a textbook on Writing for a Web Series. Isn’t that bizarre and slightly terrifying? Imagine being taught by me… as I invite you to join my Facebook? It’s horrible. I apologize ahead of time.
-I’m going to write at least two more actual blogs this week that aren’t just talking about my life. This I swear. And I mean it this time. So, stay tuned.
Also, if you guys have any questions at all — about writing, about web show makin’, about… well, anything, really, feel free to ask and I’ll do my best to answer.
Okay? Okay. Stay tuned ’till tomorrow or Wednesday for the second blog of the week!
This week is going to be a Blog Week. Which means, I’m going to use this week to post 3-4 blogs and get back in the groove of things. I’ll catch you all up with my life, show you some videos, complain about a few things and even teach you how to email.
This is my plan.
To start it off, I’m going to keep it light — the Temp Life (add them on Facebook too!) has released a new episode and it’s easily my favorite. If you don’t know, the Temp Life was one of the first sponsored shows on the web, started a little after Break a Leg by Wilson Cleveland — a man who just about everyone knows and has been rufied by in the “web series business.”
Mr. Cleveland hired me to write the previous season (which was really just an arc of short episodes) and apparently liked me enough to hire me for the next batch as well (Felicia Day was busy). Wilson, by the way, pays a writer better than just about anyone else — plus, he bought me lunch when I was in NY, which pretty much means I owe him my first born (who will sadly be named Wilson).
Sandeep Parikh of the Guild guest stars in this batch (and I’ll make an appearance too — you just wait and see!) and he’s funny as per usual.
The last season and this one are both being shot by Andrew Park and his company, Tailslating — they created the web series, the Hayley Project, which you should also check out because you love web shows. And by you I mean the royal you. All of you. And the King (“royal you” is a bizarre turn of phrase, isn’t it?)
Anyway, without further ado… Season 4, Episode 9 of the Temp Life.
Every single person who went through this business has come out telling me the same thing.
Patience.
In this business, and especially in new media, the ground is ever-shifting, ever-changing — remember how I said that the web series is dying and something new needs to rise? Well, I was, as it turns out, right (it’s true! I’m smart!). Because something new is rising. I’ll give you an example — Bannen Way is a show that was funded by Sony for one million dollars — it looks amazing, it can compete with the pros and it’s been written about everywhere. It’s what I said needed to happen. And it lit a small fire under me. Do you know why? Because I want to create the show that changes everything. I want to innovate. I want to be the creator of the blockbuster web show. Or, really, blockbuster anything. I am extremely, utterly, unabashedly competitive, just as I’m sure most people in my field are. I don’t want to just create something, I want to create something fantastic, I want everyone to watch it, everyone to love it, I want to win.
Patience.
I don’t think Bannen Way is the show that’ll change everything. I think it’s a step in the right direction. We have a show that we think could change things — especially if Bannen Way succeeds (I say with teeth gritted, grudgingly admitting that their success is my success) and we build on that. But working in this business, trying to succeed in this business, is a lot like building a house with a trout. It takes a very long time.
Patience.
It takes forever to get anything moving. And I understand. We’re asking for a lot of money, a lot of trust, a lot of new ideas in an economy that’s faintly reminiscent of a baby bear trying to balance on a giant ball — unstable is the word. I get it. But I’m tired of lunches and phone calls and brainstorming sessions and people saying, great idea, good luck! And yet, I understand it. Because this is how it works.
Patience.
It’s easy to be frustrated but hard to get mad. It’s easy to get frustrated when you wait 6 months for an agent to return your email. It’s easy to get frustrated when people seem extremely excited and mysteriously disappear. It’s easy to get frustrated when you look at the future, at all the pins you’ve carefully lined up, and realize how easily it is for them all to fall over and die. But it’s hard to get mad when patience pays off. It’s hard to get mad when our reputation precedes us without us realizing it. It’s hard to get mad when people listen to our crazy ideas as if we know what we’re doing (we do, it’s just, you know, weird that people think so) because of what we’ve already created. It’s hard to get mad when I think about the two paths I could have taken — this one, and just going to LA without any money and a dream in my heart. Maybe I would’ve gotten further. Maybe. Or maybe I would’ve been a low-level writer on Sister Sister. The point is that, in many ways, this business is like slowly building a house with a trout. At first, you don’t see any rewards — at first, it’s just a bunch of wood and mutilated trout. But then, you start to see a wall, and then two walls, and then people start recognizing you as that guy who built that house with a trout, and they start visiting you, and hiring you because, damn, forget the fish, imagine what you can do with a hammer? So I patiently hammer (or trout), I bite my tongue and hammer and hammer and trout and hammer and try to learn…
Patience.
It’s hard to stay patient when I feel like we’re in a race to succeed. I know your comments will be that we’re all in on this together, that one of our successes means a success for everyone and I completely agree. But as you write the comment you’re surely thinking the same thing I am — one of us succeeding is all of us succeeding, but man, do I ever wish I succeed before any of you. I’m currently waiting to hear from no less than 10 different people at 10 different companies who can provide me with something that leads me further in my quest. This could take anywhere from one week to 10 years. It could also never happen at all.
Patience.
You want to win. I want to win. If we could all win together, that’d be great too (if we can cross the finish line at the same time. But maybe with me one step ahead. What?! I told you, I’m competitive!) But it’s hard to be patient when the potential for failure is as great as the potential for success. And then, just then, I think of one of my mentors, Carla Zilbersmith — I’ve mentioned her several times now, but she’s worth mentioning again. She is a fantastic Jazz musician, actress, writer and she has Lou Gherig’s Disease. One of the first things she said to me was that what ALS made her realize was that, yes, she always wanted to be a famous jazz musician. A famous actress. And yes, she never had the chance to fully realize her goals, but, in the end, after all is said and done, it’s the road there that makes it worth it. It’s the fighting like a dog to get what you want, it’s the creating of something you love, it’s the turning-your-kitchen-into-a-bedroom for a joke, it’s the laughter when people get the joke, it’s the rush when people love what you do, and the joy of working with people you love that you realize that, in the end, rushing to succeed is all well and good, but you have to enjoy it too. You have to stop and breath and laugh and appreciate what you’re doing and smile and have…
Patience.
Because in the end, win or lose, it’s the story and the experience of making an entire house with a trout-hammer that’s important. Nothing else.
I just have to keep reminding myself of that.
I especially have to keep reminding my bank account of that.
But mostly, I’ll remind any of you out there who are starting up on the same path as me. It’s going to be maddeningly frustrating, it’ll be slow, it’ll be hard, it’ll be feel impossible but if you want to succeed, you have to love it and you have to be…
Around four or five years ago, I wrote an article for a website called Devlib.org which suggested various amusing ways to survive Black Friday. The article was linked on MSNBC and now, every year, it pops up on a blog or two.
So, since it’s a holiday and I’ve already pumped you full of all kinds of blogs, I’m going to leave the week with one final one. My article, reposted from years past, on Black Friday.
I know it has nothing to do with film or being a web celebrity but, what the hell? I think it’s fun.
—
There’s a reason the day after Thanksgiving is called Black Friday — it isn’t because it’s the day that retailers move out of the red and into the black, and it’s not because there have actually been casualties in the rush-to-shop that overtakes normal people and changes them into sale-loving-Zombies (the worst kind of Zombies.)
The real reason — and you’re hearing this here first — is that the Friday after every Thanksgiving sees so many people hit the stores that it actually shifts the Space-Time Continuum just a little. Scientists believe that this will eventually open a black hole (see where we’re going with this?) and send the Earth into another dimension, a strange dimension, perpetually in-between Holidays — where people are always in the midst of digesting a turkey while wondering what terrible sweater to buy a loved one… thus, Black Friday.
Below is a Top 10 list of what you should know and do that fateful day. We have spent the last fifteen years carefully studying and testing each one of the suggestions below. This is, without a doubt, the most decisive Black Friday Survival Guide you will ever read.
Are you ready? Here we go…
10. Don’t Wear Anything You Wouldn’t Wear In a Mexican Mosh Pit
Sure, most of the world is going to be in the same store as you, and yes, you’re probably going to bump into at least one person from your past who you’ve at one point or another slept with. But let us put it into perspective — and we’re talking to the women right now since, for most men, dressing up means wearing the slightly darker jeans and buttoning up that shirt.
Ladies — imagine giving birth for ten hours while your husband/boyfriend/children stand at your side and say, “Can we go? Are you done yet? Seriously, are you done? Okay, I’m actually serious now, are you done? Do we need that? We don’t need that. Don’t get that. Seriously, why do you need that? Put that down. Fine, get it, but I don’t think we need it. Are you done? Can we go? Seriously. Okay, I’m waiting in the car.” Oh, you’re also doing this while thousands of people are trying to buy your doctor at 30% off.
And that’s kind of like dressing up for Black Friday.
Our advice? Wear sweat pants, wear pajamas, wear slippers if you have to, just don’t wear anything that you wouldn’t wear to a mosh pit in Mexico.
9. Keep Hydrated – Passing Out Will Not Get You 30% Off On Pants
Yes, most malls have drinks readily available, but considering the sheer amount of people that will be flooding the stores, we highly suggest either grabbing a bottle of water or wearing one of those beer hats (you may or may not fill it with beer – just not enough to projectile vomit on other customers.)
Another good reason for bringing your own water is that it ensures that you never have to leave a purchase line – and since you’ll be in those lines for quite some time, we’d suggest bringing a picnic basket and a bathroom while you’re at it.
So, bring water, bring juice, bring anything that’ll keep you awake and focused – you’ve got a slightly less expensive shirt to buy.
8. Taking Your Lover Is Like Taking A Walking Argument – Just Don’t.
Shopping and love hardly ever mix – a man can only stand looking at Victoria Secret mannequins for so long, eventually, he’ll realize they’re not real. And there’s a limit to the length of time a woman can watch a man get excited over video games/sports paraphernalia/mannequins,
If you are going with your significant other – make a battle plan. The battle plan should include two things – one, how to avoid each other, and two – how to find each other when you’ve both maxed out your credit cards. Luckily, in this world of cell phones and other gadgetry, number two is as easy as picking up the phone and moving desperately through throngs of people to try and catch a signal. Number one is a little harder – but if you each stay to your allotted stores, taking care to avoid each other like you might do in your own house – it becomes a little easier.
So, leave them at home, leave them at work, leave them in another store – just leave them when you’re shopping or you’re going to leave them altogether.
7. Don’t Tell Your Liberal-Fur-Is-Murder-Almost-Socialist Friends Where You’re Going, They Will Judge You
In a world where injustice has free rein and corruption rules, consumerism is often frowned upon by anyone wearing Birkenstocks. We all have a social activist friend – we all love that person dearly and wish we could be like them, its just there’s a sale and everything is almost half-off and won’t the world’s starving kids be there the next day?
They will, won’t they?
Well, the sale won’t.
So unless you want to be barraged by pictures of children starving and people dying (the key here is to not, in your enthusiasm for Black Friday, ask if the kids are on sale) – tell your friend you’re going to a Free Tibet/Malaysia/Africa/Dolphin meeting that’s invite-only and go buy yourself a cheap pair of pants.
Yes, you’ll feel guilty. Yes, you’ll feel a little bit like a consumer whore. Yes, God would probably give you that patronizing – “Is that how it is, then?” look – but come on – a computer for $400 dollars? Even God can’t pass that up.
6. The Early Bird Gets The 10% Off Worm – Wake Up Early, But Not Too Early.
There’s a careful line here – on one hand, the people surrounding the doors before the stores open are a little creepy in their zombie-like eagerness to buy things. On the other, “the early bird gets the worm” as the more wiser, well-adjusted birds tell their children – so, its really a toss-up.
Here’s our advice – get there early, but not too early. Wake up in the morning, get dressed, put on your beer hat, get some coffee and slowly make your way to the store. Don’t get there when the doors have yet to be opened because getting trampled in a primarily overweight country isn’t going to help you get that worm everyone keeps talking about.
Get there within an hour of opening – that way, the crowds have moved inside but are still deciding whether those blue pants make them look fat or not (they do) and you still have time to get some of the good stuff.
So, wake up, eat a nice breakfast, and patiently rush to the store – get there early, but not too early, walk there fast, but not too fast – save all of your extremes for the shopping.
5. The Thing That Separates Us From The Living Dead Is A Shopping List
Shopping, especially on Black Friday, is like going into a War Zone. If you don’t have a plan, you’re going to be brutally injured, left behind enemy lines, and then saved by your dedicated friends who intend to go above and beyond the call of duty to get you back.
Last year, we spent seven hours shopping for a new computer — we didn’t buy one, hell, we didn’t really need one — but a sale is a sale, and who can refuse looking at slightly cheaper prices and thinking, “Mmm, still not low enough” for hours on end?
Here’s the point – we didn’t have a plan, so we spent hours aimlessly wandering around, store to store, gripping our credit cards, foaming at the mouth – eagerly wanting to buy everything but having the same thought in our heads – “This is nice, but I bet I’ll find something nicer…” until the stores closed and we went home and slept on our salty, tear-drenched pillows, dreaming of what could have been.
So, make a list of what you want, what you need, and what you’re willing to spend – you might seem like an over-obsessed shopper taking your preoccupation with buying things on sale a little too far – but hey, you’re going shopping on Black Friday, you’re already there.
4. Kids and Shopping Go Together Like Kids and Opened Bottles Of Hydrochloric Acid – Don’t Take Them.
We know they’re cute – we know their doe-y eyes and froggy gurgles draw you in like some sort of Cobra – but like a Cobra, children will, once you get too close, strike and kill with deadly accuracy. Just don’t do it, don’t take your kids shopping on the busiest day of the year.
If they can’t talk, the realization that they’re going to be in a stuffy mall filled with people and other, hateful children will sink in at about the second hour. This is when the loud, screaming protests will start, in fact, we have been told that many people suffered their first traumatizing moments on Black Friday as children – remembering it as the first time they realized their parents were addicts and needed to be institutionalized. Kids are surprisingly aware.
So, just don’t. Get a babysitter, get an aunt, get a grandmother, get a cage – just don’t take your child on a ten-hour shopping trip with you – they’d rather be in that cage.
3. Style and Pride Can Go To Hell; Get Yourself A Fanny Pack
Yes, we realize that Black Friday doesn’t take place in an Italian train station – still, crowded places are good pickings for thieves and tiny children employed by said thieves. So, either put special attention on your wallet and/or purse, or get a fanny pack.
Here’s the thing with fanny packs – they’re terrifyingly ugly. Really, anything that has the word “fanny” in it immediately loses all respect from its potential wearers. But it is in our opinion that if you’re good-looking enough, you can make a fanny pack stylish, and if you aren’t – then you’ve got other things to worry about.
Besides, the beer hat and sweat pants aren’t exactly going to make you look like nobility, so just suck it up and go all the way with it – buy a neon pink fanny pack, look the world in the eye and tell them there’s a new style in town – and it’s got the word fanny in it.
2. Bring a Carefully Selected Like-Minded Friend Less Pretty Than You
As we mentioned earlier, bringing a lover just doesn’t work unless you’re eerily like-minded, which only happens in the first few months of a relationship anyway, so just don’t bother testing one another. Still, it’s tough shopping by yourself without having a second opinion, and as this is payday for most store employees – they’re not exactly going to give you an unbiased opinion.
The solution? Think of it as one of those Desert Island games – only in reverse. Who would you spend the whole day with in an overcrowded, over-heated, sensory-overloaded jail of a place without strangling them with a surprisingly cheap scarf? Have someone in mind? Okay, now make sure they’re less pretty than you are.
Think about it — the chances of running into someone attractive on Black Friday is likely – old crushes, new crushes, ex-crushes – they’re all there, waiting, watching, looking surprisingly attractive wearing their fanny packs. So, obviously, you want your friend to provide a good contrast for them.
Let their ugly extenuate your pretty, let their Birkenstocks extenuate your beautiful, golden slippers, let their troll-like face put emphasis on the fact that you not only look nothing like a troll, but are a good person for taking your troll friend to a place where people might congregate and stare.
After all, it’s Black Friday — anything goes.
1. And Finally… Stay Home, Get Naked and Buy Online
Now hear us out. We realize that it’s a little silly to create a top ten list giving Black Friday advice and then finish off by telling you to scrap the whole thing altogether – its confusing to us too. But it’s because we care and know a better way.
It’s called the Internet. “What the hell is the Internet?!” you might be wondering.
Okay, so – you can actually buy most of the things you want online for roughly the same price as they would be when they’re on sale. Hell, you can even buy these things at the stores that you would have gone too if you had gone to the mall that day.
We know, its like we make it our job to blow your minds.
Shopping on the Internet assures you that, for one, you won’t have thousands of people trying desperately to buy your keyboard. Secondly, you don’t need to wear that fanny pack.
And finally – you can shop naked. That’s right – get naked, buy a cigar (even if you don’t smoke, just by the damn cigar), and browse until your eyes are slowly tumbling down the sides of your face with joy and a certain amount of weariness.
Why? Because it’s the future, and in the future that’s how we roll.
I feel like the more social networks there are, the more the world becomes like one gigantic, awful family. The main reason I think that is because on Thanksgiving, instead of being confined to the thankfulness of my family, I am instead exposed to the very important thankfulness of everyone I have ever met, talked to, or accidentally added on Facebook.
However, I feel like, for me, it’s not enough to be thankful for one thing at roughly 140 characters. So, I’ve compiled a list of the 20 top things I am thankful for. So that everyone I have ever met, talked to, or begged to add me on their Facebook because their profile picture was pretty/vaguely familiar/vaguely whorish will know how I feel about life and everything.
So, without further ado, my thankful list:
1. I am thankful for never appearing on the front page of CNN.com because I ate another human being.
2. I am thankful for having never seen two inside out lovers slow dance to Hopelessly Devoted by Olivia Newton John.
3. I am thankful that I am not allergic to pie.
4. I am also thankful that I am not allergic to air or women.
5. I am thankful that I am white and have a smaller chance of being charged for a crime.
6. I am thankful that I am Jewish and due to past persecutions, can safely make racial jokes.
7. I am thankful that Asians are good at math and eating rice at wild speeds.
8. I am thankful that I have never had to eat my way out of a cage made out of pork.
9. I am thankful for being a foreigner, because when America does something stupid I can shrug helplessly and say, “Hey, it’s your country.” But when they accidentally do something right I can proudly nod my head and say, “Hey, that’s my country.”
10. I am thankful that the only affordable healthcare for me is the kind that the healthcare administrative person described as, “If something really horrible happens to you”-healthcare — because I like to live dangerously and hate freedom.
11. I am thankful that, because of the Internet, our lexicon has expanded to cover words that sound like something a baby would name a blue dragon but are, in fact, names for dotcoms.
12. I am thankful that the American Indians are the only group of people who get a whole holiday dedicated to their kindness and inevitable slaughter.
13. I am thankful that, while the future looks bleak, we’ll always have John Cusack to the guide the way.
14. I am thankful for people on TV, because without them, I wouldn’t know what to believe in.
15. I am thankful for our education system, because it did really good stuff for me; [sometimes]?
16. I am thankful for art, because it’s the thing that makes the world go round.
17. I am thankful for love, because it’s the thing that makes art go round.
18. I am thankful for family, because it’s what taught me what goes round.
19. I am thankful for you, for reading this blog.
20. I am thankful to minorities for not beating me up about that white comment earlier. I was joking. I’d be so much cooler if I was black.
A little while ago I wrote about my college drama teacher, Carla Zilbersmith — a brilliant, hilarious and outrageously talented actor, musician and ne’er-do-well who was diagnosed with ALS (Lou Gherig’s Disease) and who has less than a year to live.
Carla’s talents and sense of humor attracted Academy Award-winning director John Zaritsky to make a film about her called, LEAVE THEM LAUGHING.
I had the privilege to see the early screening on Friday and — it’s fantastic. The film is… touching, hilarious, and inspiring. I wish I could think of better buzzwords but those buzz the loudest and are just plain true.
Here’s a description of the film:
Once a nationally-known performer of ballads, skits and self-parody, now fated by Lou Gehrig’s Disease to perish within months, the remarkable Carla Zilbersmith was diagnosed in 2007 and given less than four years to live. She will leave a teen-aged son, a few fans and students who adore her, and this 90-minute pre-mortem retrospective of a life lived fully, but far too fast.
The sad fact is that the production still needs $150,000 to finish the film. They’ve submitted it to major film festivals (you can do that) and now they’re desperately trying to get the rest of the funding.
Which is where I, and coincidentally all of you you, come in. I’ve told the Producer, Montana Berg, that I’d see if there was anything I could do to help her raise the money. I’ll tell you why I said that — because I thought of the community in which I live, work, and sometimes blog-spar with and I thought — if these brilliant, technologically-forward, artistically-minded geniuses can’t help me raise a meager $150,000 for a film that’s not only incredibly important, uplifting and life-altering, but for a woman who is a fellow artist, musician and creator — then no one can (look at that run-on sentence! See how inspired I am?!).
So, here’s what I ask you, online community that sometimes reads my blog, how can Leave Them Laughing not only raise $150,000, but raise it fast? I need your brains.
Oh, and if you’re an investor or want to donate — please let me know that too.
I was doing a film shoot with Mr. 
My main mode of professional contact is email. Sure, social gatherings are important and nothing quite beats the intimacy of getting a cup of coffee and/or vodka with someone to win them over. But that’s a luxury few can afford in a world where most people are far too busy to waste time doing silly things like sitting and drinking something.
I absolutely abhor the word patience.