Hi. Welcome to Hollywood. You’re here to be what, an actor? A model? Just kidding, you’re far too ugly to be either, plus you have that horrible posture that makes you look like you should be living under a bridge - or in a bell tower. Your breath reeks. You have the social skills of a retarded mortician’s son whose only autistic superpower is molesting corpses. And you’re dressed like you passed out nude/smeared in hooker blood in the Good Will donation box, threw on whatever was within in arm’s reach then ran home at top speed careful not go anywhere near the crime scene. Corduroy slacks and New Balance sneakers, huh? Good work. I guess they don’t have Rogaine in whatever Podunk town you’re from. Or Supercuts. You, sir, are obviously a screenwriter.
Which means after six failed attempts at writing six different formulaic, derivative novels and never making it past page 90, you stumbled across a copy of Syd Field’s hack tome “Screenwriting” and realized there’s a literary medium where being formulaic and derivative is actually rewarded. Plus you’d never be expected to write more than 90 pages; and even if you did it wouldn’t matter because no one would read past the first 10 pages anyway.
So you quit your job at Kenny Roger's Roasters, packed your circa 1992 New Balance cross-trainers and Sears Corduroy slacks in a Hefty sack and got on the next train to Hollywood.
Hollywood: Where the delusional and untalented pursue their dreams. Don’t be dissuaded by the fact that you were never particularly good at writing, or anything for that matter. Providing you reinvent yourself accordingly and suck the right cocks (circumcised cocks*) you too can have a career making shitty movies for morbidly obese trailer park denizens with American flags hanging off every corner of their Ford F-950 monster trucks. How do I know this? Because I’m a screenwriter too. And if I can make it, anyone can.**
This blog will serve as a depot of screenwriting advice for both novices and experts alike. As far as I know it is the only such blog on the internet, or at least the only such blog whose contributors promise to be extremely high from huffing gasoline before even attempting a post. Besides Mazin's blog that is. If you have thoughts, comments or suggestions, kindly go mouth-fuck a 12-gauge. What are you doing on the internet, anyway? Shouldn't you be writing, you lazy lard-ass?
*Jews, get it?
** Which is not to say I've "made it." Unless you mean with hookers. And if by "made it" you mean crying myself to sleep after prematurely ejaculating all over their hosiery. And if by "hookers" you mean the Victoria's Secret catalog. And if by "Victoria's Secret catalog" you mean Men's Fitness magazine. And if by "Men's Fitness magazine" you mean… oh, you get the point.
