Dear Hollywood

I, like the rest of the world America’s unemployed writers, cannot believe you are turning the “Shit My Dad Says” Twitter feed into a TV show. Actually, that’s a lie. I can absolutely and completely believe you are turning the “Shit My Dad Says” Twitter feed into a TV show. It’s probably the most popular Twitter feed in America right now, even more so than “Shit My Gardener Does” or “Shit My Dog Daydreams About.” Why, it’s even racking up more hits than “Shit I’d Like To See Ashton Kutcher Wear To Topher Grace’s Funeral,” which I believe is run by the father from “That 70s Show.”

Of course you’re latching on to this hot trend and attempting to transform it into another tepid prime time entry for network television. This is not surprising at all. That’s what you do. And you know what? “Shit My Dad Says” is actually pretty funny (and some of those things may have actually been said by the old man pictured, not just conjured up by the Maxim editor who started the whole thing!). What gets me, Hollywood, is that you have used none of the ideas I have presented on my own Twitter feed, which is exclusively dedicated to blockbuster movie ideas.

Hollywood, how could you pass up ideas like Zat You, Santa Claus?, my James Earl Jones Christmas vehicle? How could you turn a blind eye towards Godzilla vs. King Kong 2: Donnybrook In Red Hook, Undershirt Johnson Conquers K-Mart, or the hilarious fish-out-of-water comedy Manscapin’? That last one, in which Eddie Murphy plays a foul-mouthed chest hair on Jeff Goldblum, is sure to revive the former actor to his Beverly Hills Cop-era glory. I’ve been giving you gold, Hollywood, but you’ve ignored it all. You could at the very least give me a meeting to discuss Winona Ryder’s Naked Pudding Fight. That idea tested very well in single parent Midwestern households.

Look, you’re obviously going to do what you want to do, Hollywood. I’m just saying the obvious route isn’t always the best way to go. I’m sure the synergy between Justin Long and whoever you get to play the old man (Burt Reynolds?) will be hilarious at first, but every sitcom falls prey to bloat sometime after the first season. What will differentiate this from “Everybody Loves Raymond” or “Three Guys, Two Girls, Some Pizza, & A Few Mildly Amusing One-Liners” once Maxim guy jumps ship and Marlon Wayans joins the cast? Nothing, I say. However, a movie in which a stark naked Winona Ryder angrily wrestles young starlets in a giant pile of sticky foodstuffs shall always stand alone as a classic.

Good luck with “Shit My Dad Says,” Hollywood. If you ever want to spin it into a treatment for the silver screen, you know who to call.



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