What appears below is an IM conversation between myself (Dickie*) and a friend of mine (The Man) about how my marriage would fare as a sitcom.
The Man:
I love hearing about you 2. It's like watching a comedy.
Dickie:
Sometimes I think that, but it's nice to know that others think that too. Sometimes I sit back and think, man we are fucking hilarious.
The Man:
Yes...but you have laugh tracks. I hate laugh tracks.
Dickie:
Aww man, we do? I thought we were quirky enough not to need one.
The Man:
You're on Fox.
Dickie:
FUCK. We're gonna get cancelled. We're too smart for Fox viewers.
The Man:
They are moving you to Fridays.
Dickie:
KISS OF DEATH
The Man:
Comedy Central is interested...but they want a gay Black roommate.
Dickie:
Maybe we can convince FX to pick us up? Or we could start swearing a lot more and move to HBO. But then we'd need a gay nude roommate.
The Man:
Scene 1: You enter your house unexpected, and there is Tyrone (roommate) in a G-string dance with a cat in each hand and one on his head.
Dickie:
Tyrone needs a catch phrase.
The Man:
Wha-What!
Dickie:
Kookier.
The Man:
"I do declare"
Dickie:
That tests well with the gay southern audience we're targeting.
The Man:
"Ballstastic!"
Dickie:
That's my tagline. I CLAIM IT.
The Man:
I do declare that's ballstastic.
*Dickie is my maiden name, and still my name/nickname in many a circle of friends.
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