Monday, March 29, 2010

Apologies for the lack of posts lately

Ever since the TV deal broke I’ve been holed up in a bungalow at Chateau Marmont with a team of writers trying to put together a first season of my fantastic show for premium cable, and I’ve just had no time to blog. I had no idea this writing for premium cable would be this much work. Jesus. I mean you look at what comes out on TV and you think, Well, no disrespect, but you guys probably didn’t work too hard on this, right? I mean like maybe you slapped it together one afternoon and then brought in some bad actors and shot it in an hour or something. But no. These fucktards spend months on this shit! And the meetings! Endless fucking meetings! So everyone can share their little ideas on what’s working and what’s not. Good grief. If we ran Apple this way we’d be, well, Microsoft.

No, people. No. This cannot go on. El Jobso does not create by committee. If you want El Jobso, then you must let El Jobso do what he does. You must respect my process. I make my coffee strong. Some people, many people, cannot handle my potent beverage. But it is what I do. If you want some weak, watered down brew, well, you can make it yourself.

On the plus side, Lindsay Lohan has been staying here, and the other day I saw this. Fucking slaptastic. You know what? I am totally going to tap that. I know that is not such a great achievement anymore, not like it would have been a few years ago when she was still cute — like in the “Mean Girls” era. Nevertheless, I am going there. Yes, I am. I already said hi to her once, when we were passing each other in a hallway, and she was like, Hey, you’re, like, that guy, right?

Oh yes, my wasted, fire-crotched, freckled little flower. I am that guy. And you will be mine.

Eric is freaking out about my TV show

That’s what was going on in the photo above, which spread all over the Internet last week. We weren’t trying to patch things up, as some people suggested. What happened was that Eric’s guys were monitoring my private email and happened to catch an attachment that had some script ideas and a list of characters, including a guy called Dr. Strangelove. Eric is like, You cannot be serious. And I’m like, Why not? He says, You’ve got this character, Dr. Strangelove, who runs an Internet company, and he’s getting golden showers from some coke addict girlfriend, wearing nipple rings under his dorky ill-fitting clothes, and getting gangbanged by bikers at Burning Man. I’m like, Yeah? He goes, You don’t think that’s going too far? And besides that, What’s my motivation in the gangbang scene?

I’ll leave aside the fact that he got all this stuff by reading my private correspondence, because, well, it’s Eric. Okay? You just accept it, and if you hang out with Google guys you know that they don’t even pretend not to be invading your stuff all the time. So I’m like, Eric, dude, first of all, the character isn’t you. Okay? I mean I know you think the world revolves around you, but the show is fiction. These are made-up characters.

He goes, But I don’t see why you want to make a TV show anyway. What’s the point? You just want to have a chance to make fun of people you don’t like? I’m like, Yeah, that’s about it. Plus, I want to put a dent in the universe, and you know the old saying from Michelangelo: Ars longa, vita brevis. He goes, Dude, it’s a fucking cable TV show. And I’m like, Correction, my friend. It’s premium cable. There’s a difference.

Anyway, by then a crowd was forming and I had to split because if I get too close to the normals I get hives. Seriously bad stuff.

Also, Eric, FWIW, if you think the character based on you is bad, you should see what we’re doing to Scoble. Just saying.