I know that most of you did not like and/or watch the show. And I know that many people in LA hate the show with a passion. Some would even ask me how I could write for it or lose all respect for me when I told them of my job (these would mostly be highly attractive women).
As long as Irwin’s going down Postmortem Memory Lane, I thought I’d pull up this one of him on set in girl clothes.
I can’t believe he didn’t tell the story of his very first day, when we had to go around the table answering some extremely personal questions concerning childhood trauma. I will never forget that look on his face.
The Writers Guild of America has reached deals to rep writers on four Comedy Central skeins.
Guild announced Tuesday it will rep about 30 scribes on “Mind of Mencia,” “The Sarah Silverman Program,” “The Showbiz Show With David Spade” and the upcoming series “American Body Shop.” The pacts include WGA compensation levels, pension and health benefits, credits and a residual formula for reuse (including DVD, basic cable and Internet). — Variety, June 19.
I’m so proud of you guys. There’s nothing scarier than putting your job on the line to get what you deserve. (Check out the last paragraph of the Variety article or that last link right there if you don’t know what I mean.)
Thanks for fighting the good fight for comedy writers everywhere.
Longtime reader here. I was just wondering what happened to your friend Michelle Biloon, the one who used to run an advice column in your forum with her mother? Fun fact about Michelle: She once got her viewer mail answered on the Letterman program. True story!
Bigger Michelle Fan Than You
I did know that. I know everything about you, because I just created you as an excuse to brag that Michelle’s got a big article about how awesome she is in this week’s LA Weekly.
Hey, Pamie. Did you see the part where she totally dissed you?
I once spent an entire night doing my Michelle Biloon impression in front of people she hadn’t met before. I had that one coming.
For those of you who keep writing to me asking for more information on the ridiculous Rogan/Mencia debacle, please read Irwin’s latest, which says pretty much exactly what I would have told you.
I’d add one more thing. Mencia’s been dealing with Rogan’s freak-outs for a long time. So much so that my favorite fake pitch for Mind of Mencia is still my friend’s suggestion: “A Minute With Joe Rogan.” And every week we cut to Joe Rogan screaming, “Why are you still WATCHING this crap?! Why is it the second-highest rated show on Comedy Central, under South Park?! WHY!?!? What is WRONG with you people?” Just getting worse and worse every week until he pulls out all of his hair.
Ned didn’t start this round of bullshit, either. Rogan did. Because Ned’s fans? The ones who sell out ampitheatres and buy all that merchandise? They don’t give a shit about this stuff. They think Rogan’s the “Fear Factor” guy. They don’t care. They just want to laugh, and Ned makes them laugh. A lot. For hours and hours and hours.
And come on, that fence joke? If you didn’t come up with that punchline on your own after thinking for ten seconds, you’re in the wrong business.
“You know, your father was proud of you for more than just that race.”
“I know, Ma.”
“He just didn’t always know how to say it.”
I got up at three in the morning. Sprang from the bed, actually, when the alarms went off. (Two different alarms). I got dressed. Wrote sleeping stee a note. He woke up and took pictures of me applying sunscreen. Took a few bites of apple and made a cup of tea.
I left the iPod, as I don’t like breaking rules, walked to the elevator, decided I definitely needed the iPod and ended up knocking on the wrong door trying to get back in. Panicked, I flattened against the wall and tried not to breathe as whomever I woke up answered to see who the hell was knocking so early in the morning. Continue reading
On Sunday morning I got up very early to help Laura raise money for ovarian cancer. Afterwards we walked to my car in the parking garage, only to find someone had hit it, leaving a nasty scrape along the back bumper.
“Oh, Pam. That’s…”
“Someone hit my car.”
“Looks like I’m buying breakfast. Hey, look! There’s a note!”
Nope. On my windshield were seven ads for other upcoming races in the area. Not one note from someone who hit my car.
“You know what’s crazy?” I asked. “Someone parked, ran a race for cancer, then hit my car and drove away.”
“That’s really bad karma,” Laura said. “That guy’s totally getting cancer.”
(Best joke of the race went to Laura’s friend, who admitted once we were finished: “Well, I’m glad that’s over-y.” wheee! too many comedy writers + seriousness = going to hell) Continue reading
I don’t want to ruin it by telling the joke over here, but Irwin has written a line about my book that should be on the front cover. Go read. Then come back.
(Ned-Voice) First of all (normal voice), that’s a very flattering essay (so thank you, sir).
But to give you an example of this fragile head I’ve got, when Irwin said to me that night, “There’s a lot of jokes,” here’s the rapid-fire dialogue my brain had in the three seconds between when he said that, and I said, “What does that mean?” Continue reading
I was on hour “Forget It” with my Cingular phone, and gave one last call to try and figure out if there was anything I could to to resolve the fact that my Treo doesn’t send or receive email.
The support rep on the phone couldn’t hear me, and asked if he could call me on a land line. I gave him my office number.
“Um,” he said after I answered. “Is that…? The receptionist… Are you really working at Mind of Mencia?” Continue reading
Song: “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun”
I wouldn’t be anywhere near as girl power if it weren’t for this album.
Working on script changes for tomorrow’s read-through. That’s okay, people have made my desk pretty (one from my husband, one from my agent. this is hollywood). Continue reading