EXCOMMUNICATED FROM TV LAND
I joined an elite and special group of people in the funnyhaha universe. I took a bold step up from "Lonely Writer Peon" to just below "Universal Studios Coffee Runner." I proved my strength and my manhood without having to stick my hand in a fire or shoot firecrackers out of my face.
I lost a TV deal.
I couldn't talk about it before because in Television City, loose lips sink ships. But now that the deal has been put down like the rabid dog that it is, I'm free from my oath of silence. Give me a second. I HAD A #*#&$()$IN' TV DEAL! SUCK ON THAT EVERYONE WHO EVER HATED ME! WHO'S THE LOSER NOW, MOM? All right, I'm fine now.
A production company that shall remain nameless saw some of my work on the Dumb Laws blog (news.dumblaws.com) and contacted me about turning it into a show for a large unnamed cable network. I thought, "Man, somebody wants 'me' to be on television? Now I know why they call it the 'idiot' box."
At first, I tried to tell everyone I knew because this is the kind of thing that can get you the respect and admiration of everyone you know and possibly a free meal, two things freelance writers try to seize every second of every day of their meaningless, pitiful lives. But I was right in the middle of telling my brother's ex-girlfriend's granddaughter's dentist's cousin's former AA sponsor's son about it when the producer told me such things could sink the deal, and that she had South American bounty hunters on her speed dial who know a billion way to sever a man's windpipe with those sugar sticks that come with Fun Dips.
Then the calls trickled in and the buzz died down faster than the dancing at a hip hop club that suddenly starts playing "House of the Rising Sun."
The producer eventually said they weren't interested and decided to move on to bigger and better things. I thought getting news like that would break the last supports on my soul and turn me into a jabbering, mumbling, emotionless shell of a human being that does nothing but sit in the corner and talk to the dust bunnies.
But when the news finally came in, the first thought I had was, "Eh, it's no big deal." There's no bad blood between us, and I'm not bitter about anything because I didn't have anything to lose. I've read accounts of comedians and writers who invested their whole heart, soul
and portions of their liver into a project only to have it yanked off the air like a cancerous tendon and their dignity and pride with it. I was still just thrilled that they liked my crap enough to think about investing millions of their hard earned dollars into a project about it.
Two good things came out of this puppy that never even got to be a zygote: (1) I've made another contact in my career and (2) I'm starting to get noticed for my smart-assity. Friedrich Nietzsche andeveryone who's existed since then who have wanted other people to make
them think they are smarter than they really are said, "That which does not kill us makes us stronger." Well, it didn't kill me and I am stronger.
Now could someone give me a hug? I sure could go for a puppy.
Danny Gallagher is a freelance writer, reporter, humorist and blogger
for the Dumb Network's Dumb-Lawsuits.com, News.dumblaws.com and
Dumbcriminals.com. His humor has also appeared in the Christian
Science Monitor, the Wittenburg Door and on stage at Shadowbox Theatre in Columbus, Ohio. His website is www.dannygallagher.net.
