My bestie and I are both hilarious, triply so when we get together. I know everyone who has a million inside jokes with their BFF thinks this, but in our case, it’s true. Note I didn’t say doubly hilarious, which is what you would expect, but we amplify each other’s hilarity by 50%, therefore together we are three times as comical as we are separately. We also have ESP with each other, which often leads to the laughs.
We have decided that the world needs to have a show about us. For a short time, we were pretty convinced that Melissa Joan Hart and Joey (Joseph as he is called today) Lawrence had stolen our idea, but as that pregressed along, it was clear that they did steal, not from us, but from Martin Cohan and Blake Hunter. Not that I’m complaining. I’d much rather look at Joey Lawrence walking around the house in a towel than Tony Danza.
The most recent upgrade to Handcent, the text customization app, included the ability to take screenshot of your text conversations (if a single one of you iphone hipsters tells me how you’ve been able to do that since day one, I will jam that phone down your throat, and call it all day long, so that you can hear that annoying iphone ringer all fucking day), and I proceeded to utilize it by going as far back as I could through my conversations with Joe (which ended up being August 2011), and sending him shots of some of our more entertaining chatter. From there, I decided that our show should feature these screenshots, similar to the Bro Code at the end of HIMYM or the ChuckLore at the end of all Lorre’s productions. Difference would be that I think the text should show right at the beginning, or after returning from the first commerical break, and be directly related to the topic/situation of the episode.
The pilot will feature our awesome shared brain and should probably begin right off the bat by displaying how often we say we hate each other or call each other names. For example, the show could open with the time we made pizza and I placed two slices on my plate as I turned around, and Joe said, “Fail,” before the pizza fell off my plate and ladded topping-down on the floor. Or the mulitude of times I’ve answered a question before he even asked it. Or last Friday, when he told me to pick a song, any song (I forgot what he needed it for), which put me on the spot so my reply was, “Uhhh…” and he picked one instead, typing into his phone. After a moment I finally blurted out ‘When You Were Young,’ Joe only facepalmed, before showing me his phone, where he’d typed ‘when you w.’
Above, is just one of many exchanges where we clearly are way too tuned in to each other’s brainwaves. Had he actually texted me that he was leaving, I would have sent exactly what I said above as a reply. So apparently when he had the thought to text me that he was on his way, I heard it, and in my head it translated to having already received the text. Another example, is from a few weeks back, when we were deciding which theater to go to to see the Avengers. We left it up to timing, planning to make the decision on the day of the show. So day of, my text: so which theater are you feeling? His reply: Shut up, I was just texting you.
If patterns prove anything, it seems like I have the penchant of knowing what he’s about to text and replying to it before he can, but, he also has the inclination to know what I’m going to say when I reply, and then saying it before I do.
The title is still up for debate, but really, all we need is a writer (to help make this more sitcome than reality television) and we are ready to go. Seriously, who wouldn’t watch this?