Behold FFN News #2. Produced by me and the fine folks at Ralph Smyth Entertainment. My role is mainly to stay out their way. Which I do quite well.
I think this episode is a big improvement over #1. The kittens were so much more cooperative this time. We gave in to their demands for private liter boxes and hemp yarn.
If you like it, please share. Far and wide.
But mostly wide.
I like Twitter a lot. For someone who spends a lot of time alone it provides me a way to be social without having to actually talk to people.
It’s mostly a one way conversation – my favorite kind.
Yes, the dead horse I will not stop beating is making its network premiere on ABC tonight and I’ll be telling you way more than you need to know about how this piece of tasty sausage was made.
Lucky for you, I had little to do with it other than stay the hell out of DreamWorks way.
My purpose this evening is to try to pull a few more viewers so we can prove to Jeffrey Katzenberg that Hedge deserves some more attention. Like a TV series, or a film strip, or maybe a few commemorative sporks.
It’s not likely to happen, but you never know.
My Twitter handle is: _MichaelFry. You can also follow along on my Facebook page.
ABC: 9 EST/PST, 8 CST
What would ET’s First Contact message be?
- More Ringo
- We come in peas
- Mars needs Tex-Mex
- We want our DNA back
- Construction Next 40,000 Light Years
- Lost: One Monolith
- This Planet Condemned
- All you need is love. And sprinkles.
Hammy is actually on Twitter at: http://www.twitter.com/hammyhimself
And his butt does look cute when it’s asleep.
Toon imitates tweet. Hammy tweeted a week or so ago about riding the earth around the sun thus inspiring this week’s story line.
Side note: I like RJ with his clarinet. Or is that a soprano sax? Or an oboe? I’ll have to ask T, because in 14 years I’ve never once written about RJ playing an instrument.
You might think Over the Hedge is a well-organized, well-plotted, precisely character defined, highly-professional operation.
You would be wrong.
I feel bad for Verne. He’s a professional victim. Not by choice, but by necessity. There are three main characters. One is the cool guy. One is the cute guy. And one is Verne. Verne is the glue that makes it all stick together. But mostly it just sticks to him. Poor, Verne. Poor, sticky, moldy, Verne.
I’m friends with my youngest daughter on Facebook. I extorted her friendship in return for an advance on her allowance. Yeah, I’m that kind of dad. Anyway, she posted a sweet update last night with a few choice misspellings. After cringing for a beat, I relaxed and realized she’s got half my genes and she obviously inherited my i before e except after beer gene. I’m a spectacularly, legendary alternative speller. Cartoon editors worldwide trade stories of my attempts to spell conceive and Coach Krzyzewski. But you know what? I DON’T CARE. Because my job is to be funny and my editor’s job is to edit and my daughter’s job is to be sweet and the spell checkers job is to spell check. Facebook and their evil mutant spell checker are clearly to blame. Q.E.D.
Or my daughter was drunk texting again.
Damn that Occum and his pesky it’s-all-so-simple razor.
Twitter allows “alternative reality” characters. Facebook doesn’t. Doesn’t that seem like an arbitrary line in the digital sand? Who is Facebook to determine who or what is real? Are my Facebook friends any more real than my Twitter followers. Does anyone online wear pants?
Last night’s House featured a dying blogger who shared everything about her life in numbing detail except the size and shape of her poop — which ironically (spoiler alert), turned out to be the pivotal in her diagnosis. As I watched I thought a fun challenge would be for someone (not me) to pose on Twitter as Dr. Gregory House and see how long before someone asks for serious medical advice.
We are what we tweet.
Hammy is on Twitter. Which seems like a no-brainer. But it took this slow-brainer a while to think of it. He’s already picked up more followers in a day than I have in six months. What’s next? Hammy on ChatRoulette? No, that would be cruel.