I didn’t know what Hollywood scriptwriters looked like until I saw them on the picket lines during the recent writers’ strike. They looked normal enough – they didn’t drive up in their Ferraris flashing botox smiles like Tinsel Town big shots. They wore normal clothes, had normal faces and probably had messy houses and an overdraft like everyone else.

Hollywood needs them. Can you imagine if they were filming CSI: Las Vegas and the director says to the cast “Hmmm, maybe someone can pretend to be dead, here’s some fake blood. Fucked if I know, just make it up as you go along…” Gil Grissom wouldn’t look like such a know-it-all forensic fancy pants then.

Awesome Movie
Maybe I had what it took to be a movie screenwriter. Stupidly, I wondered out loud to my friends how easy it must be. All you need is to think up some characters, put them in a situation and then resolve that situation, somehow, in about 95 minutes. Go on, my friends said. At least come up with an idea.

My movie script needed careful planning. I had to come up with fascinating characters and an intriguing plotline with plenty of twists. Half an hour of solid work through my lunch break later, I had the foundations of my awesome movie – a dark road trip comedy with a clever subplot. I’d hardly finished my cup-a-soup as I typed out my synopsis. I am in the wrong job, I thought. Just wait until my friends read this. I wonder which producer will call me first?

Hot Dog-Eating Monkeys
My friends’ reviews were lukewarm. “Um, Tiggy, hasn’t this been done before?” “I don’t get that bit about the monkey and the hot dog eating contest…” “I’ve noticed one major flaw in your plotline…”

What a bunch of loser armchair critics. How dare they trash my idea! I played the whole movie back in my mind – it was fantastic! I’d pay to see it several times at a theatre. I sulked like a diva for the rest of the day.

Maybe I’m not cut out to be a screenwriter. The pressure to come up with original, logical and entertaining material is too much for me. The trauma of a rejected idea is unbearable. These Hollywood writers must have a thick skin, even without the botox.

Share it!

Tiggy Makes Movies | 5 Comments »

Are you stressed out, under pressure and short of time at work? Or are there days when your ‘In’ tray stays empty and the hours drag on until home time?

You’re not being lazy – there is nothing to do. Not even dull stuff. How can you look busy and avoid being labelled a slacker by your boss? I’ve come up with a few tips to help you waste time while looking productive.

Paper Mountains - The must-have desk accessory for those toil-free days. Scatter files, letters and other meaningless junk across your desk. Make your own paper mountains by rescuing items from the recycle bin or photocopying old reports. Shuffle, staple and hole-punch these paper props whenever the boss walks by.

Internet - The timewaster’s best friend. If co-workers can see your monitor, hide your browser behind an Excel spreadsheet so you can toggle between the two to avoid suspicion. Look slightly pained as you surf – you are not poking your friend on Facebook, you are working out a very complicated equation.

Phone Calls - Mask personal calls as business conversations. Tell your friends to ask questions you can only answer with a yes or no. Using your best business voice, respond “Yes…yes. No.” in a professional manner, throwing in random comments about sales figures. You can chat away to your buddies and look productive at the same time.

Write A Novel - Always keep a notebook on your desk. Look busy by writing stories, shopping lists and badly composed haikus. What the hell do you think I’m doing now?

Have a Stroll - Don’t wander about aimlessly, but take a random document from your paper mountain and march around the office pretending to look for someone. Make sure they’re out – you don’t want to run into them and have to explain why you’re bringing them a stationary invoice from 1987. If your workplace is expansive you can walk around for hours. If not, have a walk around the company next door.

Caffeine - Waste valuable time at the coffee machine as you ponder the brew selections and stuff sugar packets into your pockets. Work in several trips to the water cooler and you’re well on your way to 5pm. Think of the extra time you’ll waste rushing to the washroom after all that fluid.

Meetings - Use these communal time wasting sessions to your advantage. Arrive early and scribble furiously in your notebook during the meeting (obviously you will be writing your novel, not taking notes). Ask the speaker lots of questions at the end to avoid returning to your desk – you’re doing them a favour by wasting their time too.

Desk Games - Who has the stupidest name in the phone book? How many paperclips can you stack? If you take your mouse apart, will it work when you put it back together?

Start Smoking - How come nicotine addicts can slope off and indulge their habit whenever they like? If drinkers and stoners were afforded the same privilege, time wasting would be much easier (and hazier). If you don’t want to start smoking, just go outside anyway and tell your fellow smokers you’re on the patch but can’t shake the smoke break ritual.

Get Another Job - If you spend every day making paperclip towers, wandering the corridors looking for invisible people and hiding in the washroom, it’s time to quit. Your employers are wasting your valuable time.

Life is too short to be doing a non-job, unless you really enjoy spending your day doing nothing useful. In which case you should have followed your parents’ advice and become a lawyer.

Share it!

Tiggy's Top Tips | 4 Comments »

Dr. House rushes to another cardiac emergency

2. Defibrillator

A machine you use to resuscitate a heart attack victim while you pretend to be Dr. House. Don’t forget to shout “Clear!” and make biting yet witty remarks as you zap away. What fun.

Unfortunately it is not a good word to have to use in an emergency.
“Help, this man’s dying over here! Get me the defip… defrim… defuck… Oh, wait. Nevermind.”

Share it!

Word Of The Day | 3 Comments »

Are fish vegetables? Or am I a big hypocrite?

I used to be a vegetarian. I was fourteen and needed to piss off my parents. So I took the advice of my hero Morrissey, jumped on the ‘Meat Is Murder’ bandwagon and abandoned burgers. My mother estimated my latest teenage fad would last about a week.

Six years on my veggie convictions were still going strong. I’d tuck into my tofu stew and complain loudly about the dead flesh my dinner companions were shoveling into their faces. I didn’t get invited to many dinner parties.

Fish Sticks
One evening as I was sitting at a beachside grill, a waiter brought out a massive plate of barbequed fish. The sweet, delicate smell wafted to my table. Suddenly my plate of soggy lentils and green stuff lost its appeal. I began pining for the taste of juicy barbequed prawns, fluffy salmon steak and salty mussels. Hell, even fish sticks would do.

I was determined not to give in to my secret craving. But my resolve crumbled at a wedding buffet. I found myself loitering by a plate of shimmering pink smoked salmon. No-one would notice if I just tasted a tiny flake. The fish was dead and too sliced up to save. So I ate some. Nothing bad happened. I wasn’t struck by lightening. Morrissey didn’t appear and slap my salmon-filled face. The Earth didn’t explode because Tiggy nibbled one little fishy.

Slug Assassin
Now the world was literally my oyster. Sushi for breakfast, tuna for lunch and prawn curry for supper. The world’s fish stocks were beginning to dwindle.

How could I justify my fish fanaticism? Using my own special logic, I figured that even being vegetarian had its environmental downside. How many slugs had been ruthlessly murdered in order to produce those vegetables? Carrots were living things too, but I was happy to rip them out the ground and devour them.

Anyway, fish are stupid. They’d only get eaten by other fish. If there was such a thing as reincarnation, I was simply helping them up the chain by eating them. Next time they might come back as a chicken and they’d thank me for it. A succulent, tender chicken. Mmmm.

Share it!

Drinking Eating & Drinking | 6 Comments »