Canceled SATC Voice-Overs

Scene: NYC apartment. Carrie leans out of a window, smoking. A curly tendril moves fetchingly in the wind.

I couldn’t help but wonder—are we polygamists?

Later that day, I got to thinking—if perspectivism rejects objective metaphysics as impossible, and claims that there are no objective evaluations which transcend cultural formations or subjective designations, this must mean that there are no objective facts and that there can be no knowledge of a thing in itself!

Then it dawned on me: Samantha was the Son of Sam.

And I couldn’t help but wonder—is it beastiality if you’re only watching?

Early the next morning, I got to thinking—what was so wrong about a little recreational heroin usage? 

Still, I couldn’t help but wonder—when did we stop being free to choose our own age of consent?

And then it dawned on me: that was a human finger in my soup. 

But I couldn’t help but wonder–would Miranda be OK? I had left her gasping for breath in the tentacles of a huge jellyfish. But I knew she would understand, for I needed to run to the corner and hail a taxi so that Big would see me swaying in the fabulous New York breeze. Friends really are soulmates.

After a few drinks with Big, I got to thinking–jellyfish are just like men. Some wrap a tentacle about your forehead, some wrap it around your neck, and some wrap it right around your lungs (poor Miranda). It was the perfect column idea, and the perfect ending to a perfect New York night.

Hiring and Firing Procedures at the Dot Gov Review

Faithful subjects, my apologies for the lack of updates ‘round this here joint. The past few days have been consumed by meetings with my lawyers as we finalize the hiring and firing procedures for my wildly successful literary magazine, the Dot Gov Review. In the interest of full disclosure, I am legally obligated to post them here.
Hiring Procedures
1. The Dot Gov Review is not an equal-opportunity employer. Any of the following will result in failure to hire and/or immediate termination:
  • Preference of Pepsi over Coke
  • Background in Journalism
  • Background in Economics
  • Love of cockroaches
  • Hatred of Britney Spears and/or Ke$ha
  • “Bro-tastic” fashion taste
  • Psycho killer

2. The following skill sets are required for employment at the Dot Gov Review:
  • Pastry chef
  • MEN: Attractive but not too flirtatious OR attractive and gay and very flirtatious OR hot single dad with really cute kid
  • WOMEN: Must not have better hair than the Dictator/Editor-in-Chief AND must have extensive shoe closet in size 8 AND must be certified manicurist. BONUS: shoe closet may be kept at the DGR headquarters.
  • Mad dance skillz (but not too mad)
  • Access to unlimited cash and champagne
  • Close friends with Dave Eggers of McSweeney’s (“close friends” hereby refers to “an individual with the diplomatic skill set necessary to convince McSweeney’s to publish the work(s) of the Dictator/Editor-in-Chief)

3. BEFORE HIRING: the candidate (hereafter referred to as the Help) may be required to purchase plane tickets for the Dictator-Editor-in-Chief so that interviews may be conducted at the Help’s house. Residents of CA, FL, Berlin, Paris, Rio de Janeiro, and Mansions only, please!
4. DURING HIRING: the Dot Gov Review accepts no responsibility for bruises, scrapes, internal bleeding, concussions, and short- or long-term memory loss sustained during the Hiring Process. It is of the utmost importance that the Help be capable of crawling in and out of the Temple of Khazad-Dum with the Crystal of Life intact. 
5. AFTER HIRING: The Dot Gov Review reserves the right to give the silent treatment to any employee who makes a spelling or grammatical error or any error at all or who likes poetry that’s longer than one page or fiction that’s a thinly-veiled retelling of an author (hereafter referred to as the Fool)’s life story.
Firing Procedures
The Dot Gov Review is a merciful employer, but our anger—once provoked—may result in a lifelong fear of dark alleyways and trash cans that appear to be hiding an angry Dictator/Editor-in-Chief inside. In the unfortunate event that the Help has performed unsatisfactorily, firing procedures will commence without delay:
1. The Help shall be required to read through ten boxes of slush without sleep.
2. The Help shall be required to thoroughly clean the Editor’s studio apartment office before leaving.
3. The Help shall be required to leave all perks of the job (complimentary Cartier watches, holiday-bonus Burberry trench, dark chocolate hazelnut truffle bars, status of “literary genius”) at the door.


Innovative Ways to Torture a Writer

Everybody has that special writer in his or her life that makes them want to punch through walls, devour newborn babies, and set oil rigs on fire. Here are a few ways to make them squirm under the callused thumb of your literary rage.

  1. Send them links to places like this. Hey girl, this looks perfect for you—oops, mid-career writers only! Too bad you’ve never been published.
  2. Ask them to read long lists of numbers out loud. Every writer I know is numerically dyslexic. (When I worked at Starbucks, I would tell people their grande latte was “$9.36!!!” at least once a day. They hated me.)
  3. Invite them to incredible literary events in different states…because everybody knows writers are too poor to travel anywhere but the local soup kitchen. Sorry, dear, I’m sure the William Shakespeare Reads Junot Diaz…NAKED! Literary Hour will come to Gary, Indiana. Eventually.
  4. Buy them this incredible signed first edition of Tender is the Night. (Revenge is a dish best served when it costs upwards of $30,000.) As the salt tears of their gratitude splatter the floor and they kiss the fragile dust jacket and ever-so-gently crack open the spine, remark that you ripped out all the pages and replaced them with photocopies of Stephanie Meyer’s brilliant work, “The Short Second Life of Bree Tanner: An Eclipse Novella,” because you know how much they love the postmodern oevre.
  5. Give lots of advice—generously and freely. “I’m sensing that this female lead is actually a transvestite. You say she has ‘smooth glowing skin’ and ‘luminous high cheekbones,’ but all I hear is ‘stubble disguised under heavy stage makeup.’” “Perhaps this ten-volume novel would work better as a short story.”
  6. Offer your services—generously and freely. “You know, if you ever need an proofreader—a spellchecker, even—I’m there.” 
  7. After reading the top-secret ninth draft of their precious trilogy, I Was A Middle-Aged Janitor: A “Vacuum Cleaner” Novel, sit in silence for twenty minutes with a deep furrow in the middle of your forehead. Murmur, “Unbelievable.” Five minutes later, say, “Did you know that if you let your eyes go out of focus for long enough, the whole room starts to swim?”
  8. Say, “Writing…h’m. Isn’t that kind of like performance art?
  9. Give plenty of maddeningly vague revision suggestions. A classic: “Use another word here.” Alternatively, you can just underline every other sentence in a squiggly red pen without making any notes in the margins. Does “squiggly underline” mean “I love this part” or “This makes me want to vomit all over your face”? WHO KNOWS?!?!?!?!?!
  10. If you’re both at the same party, and they fall silent, even for a minute (warning: highly unlikely), pat their knee, smile gently, and say, “It gets lonely, doesn’t it?” 
  11. Throw bricks at their head.

PS: I hope it’s not tasteless to use a pic of the beautiful Virginia Woolf…I’m definitely not trying to say that people should have tortured HER.

    How to Respond to a Publicist

    “Nope.”

    “Yeah…nope.”

    “Sure, you can send along a sample of that truffled chocolate popcorn/new Hermès bag/La Mer facial crème and I will consider reviewing it. Snicker.”

    “Does the fact that your livelihood depends upon a book titled Pee-Pees and Wee-Wees: Introducing Your Child to Toilet Etiquette ever send you into an existential tailspin?”

    “If you email me one more time, my team of sniper-lawyers and their rabid pitbulls will be tasered into a blood-lust frenzy and released.”

    “I’m sorry, my company has absolutely no interest in your miniature inflatable swimming pool.”

    Au contraire. Cold weather does not make my replaced hip click or pop. But thank you for inquiring.”

    “I will be attending your restaurant opening. Can I RSVP for me and seven friends? We’re all, uh, chefs.”

    “I will take monetary compensation for forwarding this inane email to my boss.”

    “I CANNOT HELP YOU. YOU ARE SELLING LOW-CALORIE FROZEN PIZZA AND I WORK FOR A CHILDREN’S MAGAZINE.”

    “No, I did not get your fax.”

    iTori

    I’ve often been compared to Steve Jobs, both in my eye for the future and my indomitable spirit of innovation (not to mention our mutual love of skinny white things). Some have even called me his “heir,” a flattering title, but one I must graciously refuse. After all, I know nothing about computers or websites or how to make cute little buttons that VIBRATE when you touch them BUT THEY’RE NOT REALLY BUTTONS they’re just icons on a flat screen BUT THEY SEEM SO REAL can I eat them?

    Still, if I knew the first thing about technology, I have no doubt that I’d be one of the leading producers of iPhone/iPad apps. Barely a day goes by when I don’t come up with some ingenious app idea. Below, I share my two favorites. INTELLECTUAL COPYRIGHT APPLIES.

    Tori’s iPhone Apps

    The Jeggings Voice-Over App

    Each time a rap song plays on your iPhone, this hip new app replaces every mention of “jeans” with the more appropriately on-trend “jeggings,” breathing new life into boring old hits. Fashionistas will love lines such as,

    Apple Bottom JEGGINGS, boots wit da fur (Flo Rida, “Low”)


    Pocket full of green, girl you know I love the way you shake it in them JEGGINGS (Trey Songz, “Bottom’s Up”)


    Walking the streets with you and your worn-out JEGGINGS (Taylor Swift, “You Belong With Me”)


    I don’t wear tight JEGGINGS like the white boys (Gucci Mane, “Wasted”)


    As well as the perennial favorite:


    Billie JEGGING is not my lover, she’s just a girl who claims that I am the one (Michael Jackson, “Billie Jean”)




    The Roadkill or Glove? App

    Sure to become a favorite with the delicate and squeamish world-wide, the Roadkill or Glove? app helps you avoid those horrible situations when you’re walking down the sidewalk and you see something kind of grey and lumpy lying ahead of you and it looks like there’s a little red coming out of one end and you’re like AHHHH! If that’s a dead squirrel I gotta cross over to the other side! Fear not, trembling one–just point your iPhone at the offending pile of mystery, and this ground-breaking app will tell you instantly whether it’s Roadkill…or just an abandoned Glove.