A. Fry cook, Video store clerk, Human Guinea Pig, Sentient blood bank and failed basic cable television personality
A. author person
A. University of Wisconsin at Madison
A. Meet John Doe
A. The Simpsons
A. This is my happening and it freaks me out!
A. I got a good Christian raisin' and an eighth grade education. Ain't no need in y'all treating me this way
A. In my book I describe perfect happiness as drinking the still-warm blood of my friends from the hollowed-out skulls of my enemies. So I'm going to go with either that or hugging a newborn kitten.
A. Losing everything
A. At the UN, accepting an award for being the greatest person in human history
A. Richard Nixon
A. my dad
A. Hitlertastic, ungrammaticaliciousness and the
A. Where do I begin?
A. If I could change the channel on the TV without actually getting up and doing so manually, that would be almost inconceivably awesome.
A. The Big Rewind, and keeping my two cats out of cat prison despite their many cat crimes
A. Where do I begin?
A. My sturdy hump/willingness to look the other way when my neighbors start moonshine stills in their backyards
A. To paraphrase Woody Allen, my only regret in life is that I am not someone else
A. my terrible posture and air of ineffable sadness
A. Franklin Delano Roosevelt: "How's your hammer hanging?" Alternately I might just make small talk about the weather or baseball statistics. I've always wanted to ask our greatest President what he thinks about the White Sox's bullpen or if it might rain.
A. Presidents who aren't adept at making small talk
A. I'm pretty happy with what I'm doing right now.
A. honesty, a sense of humor and being able to hold your whiskey
A. "Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered", "Everyday Struggle", "Too Much Tenderness", "Be My Wife", "These Days"
A. Don Delillo, Preston Sturges Woody Allen David Sedaris Billy Wilder F. Scott Fitzgerald John Swartzwelder
A. Our Dumb Century The Third Face The Great Gatsby Yes I Can Catcher In The Rye
A. A Confederacy of Dunces
A. If you want to write, write: learn by doing, then do by learning. Wait, this doesn't have to make any sense, does it?
A. Your grammar and punctuation are deplorable but your prose at times approaches, if never quite attains, adequacy
A. A few years back, I wrote a manuscript about my experiences flying from Chicago to Los Angeles every weekend to tape AMC's "Movie Club With John Ridley", a poorly rated, mildly disreputable basic-cable movie review panel critics and audiences alike heralded as "short-lived" and "cancelled". It didn't get published but I learned a valuable lesson: people don't want to spend their hard-earned cash on books about television shows nobody has heard of. I quickly abandoned planned oral histories of "Hello Larry" and "Cleghorne!" and decided, on my agent's advice, to write a book proposal for a memoir that filtered my hilariously traumatic real-life tale of growing up in first a mental hospital, then a wealthy foster family whose patience and generosity knew only strict, unyielding boundaries and finally in a group home for emotionally disturbed adolescents through the sturdy prism of pop culture. It was an opportunity to crassly exploit a lifetime worth of psychological pain for monetary gain. Despite a tradition of good taste and solid judgment, the good folks at Scribner inexplicably bought my book proposal. I wrote "The Big Rewind" while working on the inaugural season of "My Year of Flops", a popular online series on famous cinematic failures I do for the Onion A.V Club, where I have toiled as the Head Writer for something like a decade. I like to think of "The Big Rewind" and "My Year of Flops" as Siamese twins created in the same tainted womb, so I am delighted to be able to announce that Scribner be publishing a "My Year of Flops" book filled with what SCTV would call "Golden Classics" as well as plenty of awesome original, all-new material. In conclusion, buy my book.