wittierwilde - Tumblr blog

[wittierwilde]

St. James deserves to get clocked around the back of the head with a boom mike at least 60% of the day.

And you know what, listen up, Queen Bee of film geek squad. An intern doesn't get hired for their glorified barista skills. I got hired to make ya'll look pretty as I can on film even with all the pudgy Cabbage Patch faces blobbing up my vision, because I'm the best in my major and you're all lucky I even showed up here, and that's not even in the same realm as pissing around with your frickin' lattes, Regina George's cross-border twin. If you're not careful you might witness a Cady Heron takedown. Keep those claws up.

At least with Qatar Airways I'd get a free tan.

Can we just employ a bot to man the social media accounts?

St James is a peasant and doesn’t deserve Starbucks to desk coffee service. It’s the principle of the thing Hannah Montana, you’re supposed to be our intern, ergo it’s your job to do the things we can’t be bothered doing for ourselves and really you should count yourself lucky coffee duty is the only thing we expect of you, the interns in Trump Tower have to get a hell of a lot more dirty then you do.

[wittierwilde]

Say costume, mean misappropriated string cheese, right?

I sent my intern out to collect my Halloween costume today

Even he came back looking horrified so I think my job is done. 

[wittierwilde]

He could always be a musical theater emo kid. I hear cross-clique-ing is in vogue these days, even if I totally would have stamped that shit out back in high school. Dress him up in mime couture, send him off to offend the entire school district with every solo in The Book of Mormon. 

Ugh, I totally regret saying anything. Only if you use a Cabbage Patch Baby substitute, I'm not cleaning up baby sick and poop all day. Cameras not constipation, Berry. That's why I'm on the payroll, not for any of you guys' weirdo ideas about child-rearing with sex addicts.

Now that the mystery of where Babe/Gregory came from is solved,

With three mothers raising him, I don’t really think he had any choice but to get his angst out in some fashion. And while I would push for musical theater, children don’t usually follow in their parents footsteps, or so I’ve been told. 

There’s no need to write a baby book for a child I’m not keeping; besides, if anything, it’ll only become a video idea in a couple weeks and then you’ll have to help film it anyways. 

[wittierwilde]

In the wise words of esteemed philosopher Lady Gaga, I was born this way.

Smart move. If I had the privilege of an office I'd probably park it three blocks away from most of the faux artistic souls stinking up the NY astral plane. But then I might miss it if they ever cut their earlobe off in a fit of creative frustration, and then what will I Snapchat? Or record for future use in my grad film? 

You've got a point. Even Berry can manage a solid 6/10 when she's surrounded by the entire cast of hipster Lord of the Rings. Peter Jackson look this way for the last third of The Hobbit: Manhattan Modor.

Can we just employ a bot to man the social media accounts?

Oooh, burn. 

I specifically demanded an office on the opposite side of the building to the ‘creative’ team so I can avoid the daily migraine that comes from being anywhere near them or their so called hilarity. I have some very old and very expensive whiskey in my office for very special kinds of meetings and somehow their very presence seems to poison it so it tastes of fruit juice and is better served in one of their sippy cups. 

No, unsurprisingly, it’s not even hard for her to look hot when you consider who her fellow cast members are. 

[wittierwilde]

Oh, well, praise Jesus you picked the more obscure poison. I'll sleep better now. The demand for health code violating falafel in this city creeps me out. If you're going to eat deep-fried crap you might as well really commit to clogging up your arteries. Go the whole hog.

Ew. At least use the ones next to the janitor's closet, I'm sure he'd appreciate the change from Clorox burning out his nostrils.

Remind me never to eat anything from the falafel cart ever again.

Oh god no. Definitely not that place. I can proudly say that I’ve never eaten there. This was a new place outside of my building. I tried it, I regretted it, and I’m never eating there again.

I’m fine now, and I’m using the office bathrooms.

[wittierwilde]

Somehow, I think I can live with that.

I try to avoid Anderson at all times. Him and Brody Montana honking around the office like a pair of ambiguously asexual clowns is enough for me to strike them from my potential phone number exchange list. But thanks; I'm sure the Internet trolls will elect you as their new queen. What an honour. 

The billboard looks pretty bangin'. Even Berry almost looks human. Witchraft, right?

Can we just employ a bot to man the social media accounts?

Your loss. I guess my no-intern rule will just have to keep standing and I do hate when there’s no-one to use to break my own rules. 

No, trust me, Anderson is five million times worse than Berry and she follows instruction far better. I stopped her using some shitty hair products simply by replacing the contents with Nair a few times but Anderson remains unswayed from his love of lubing up his head in preparation for crawling back into his mother’s womb until he can come out human sized. My guess the crotch ads are famous so I’m disappointed by your lack of research but I guess I can tell someone on my team to forward them to you. The shouldn’t be too busy when I just did all the manual labour to secure our new billboard in Times Square. 

[wittierwilde]

To be fair to Bennett, you have to start them early on designer handbags. Otherwise it's a struggle to get them accustomed to American capitalist culture, and then they become emo losers in high school. Tragic, really.

Ugh, too much info. You should make up a baby book. Write in all your thoughts and feelings that I'm really not paid to hear, you know.

Now that the mystery of where Babe/Gregory came from is solved,

He’s a surprisingly quiet child; he’s barely cried while he was with us, and the few times he did were usually because Effy was trying to put him in a bag or some other dire situation that I had to remedy almost immediately. 

Not that it matters, because he goes back soon, and we’ll be left childless once more. Which is probably better for all involved. 

[wittierwilde]

Gross. The one where the guy is best flea-ridden friends forever with squirrels? Poor life decision number four thousand and eighty three.

Please don't use the office bathroom. There's no double glazing alive that can prevent from Hudson fires spreading.

Remind me never to eat anything from the falafel cart ever again.

Worst food poisoning I’ve ever had.

[wittierwilde]

Surely the purse makes it cuter? You can't even see it when it's in there. Seen and not heard at its finest.

Now that the mystery of where Babe/Gregory came from is solved,

we only have another day of being mothers before his parents come back into town to pick him up. I still don’t know how Effy managed to find the two most forgetful people in the entire world with a child, nor do I really want to, but now that our time is limited, I have to say I think I’ll miss Gregory. When Effy isn’t sticking him in her purse as an accessory, he’s actually kind of cute. 

[wittierwilde]

Whatever. I'll pass on the screwing, but I'm sure catfishing Berry's troll admirers with science can only make my day that little bit brighter. You o you.

Besides, I'm pretty sure Berry and Anderson are twin science experiments out to start the great showtune apocalypse so colour me totally unsurprised. You know, I've actually never seen those ads. You should link me. I'm sure there's a use for re-earthing them on the Twittersphere

Can we just employ a bot to man the social media accounts?

The only action Berry gets is fictional so screw me if I think it should at least be accurate. I’ve already done that but do try and make some actually useful suggestions any day now, Wilde. I marketed her crotch but everyone who saw the ads guessed it was Anderson’s so that was her daily dose of mortification and my daily dose of amusement sorted.

[wittierwilde]

Oh well, thank God for your altruism in this trying time. I mean, the real issue here is definitely the authenticity of the boob descriptions more than anything else. Obviously. Market those B-cups like you own the patent, Bennett.

Can we just employ a bot to man the social media accounts?

I told the last intern to just reply to them all with Berry’s exact measurements so don’t worry, they should be more accurate soon.

[wittierwilde]

Oh, I don't think I could give them the satisfaction of just up and leaving. I mean, where else can you smack a man's opinions on feminism down with only outdated cat memes? It's the little things.

Still, I'd turn off the old Smythe batsignal on that. Google Alerts are super depressing, it's just elaborate badly-spelled scenarios about Weston and Anderson boinking in the breakroom, like there's even room in there. Keep your mind innocent, Bruce Wayne.

Can we just employ a bot to man the social media accounts?

You know, I wouldn’t complain if you just stopped checking Twitter altogether, it’s me who gets the hate mail from negative posts there no matter who posts it. Granted, Amelia makes sure it’s all deleted before six in the morning, but it still gets noted. 

[wittierwilde]

Oh no, it's the barfing wrath of Latina Scary Spice over gross Starbucks coffee she can't be bothered getting off her own ass to get. Bring a paper bag and suck it up, Mel B, even economy class Internet hobos have higher priority than your caffeine fix. Even St. James can make it to Starbucks on his own two feet.

What's with the estrogen in this office and coffee, anyway? Does soy milk have wolfsbane in it? Do your cycles all match up with the phase of the moon? Like we couldn't get any more MTV.

Can we just employ a bot to man the social media accounts?

Barfing is exactly how I feel every time I’m forced to drink that sub par sludge you bring me masquerading as coffee Caroline, so I’m glad you’re miserable right now retweeting all the potential little stalkers that cruise social media sites hoping for a shout out.

Next time learn the difference between low fat and full cream milk and maybe one of the other interns will get stuck interacting with those basement dwellers.

[wittierwilde]

Did someone wake up on the wrong side of the synagogue this morning? Four Pics, One Word is increasing my visual awareness of subtle cinematic symbolism. Are you suggesting I hinder my education in order to focus my limited time and efforts on... what, your first world coffee problems? 

Oh, and don't worry about it. I don't retweet them, instead I just construct an elaborate catfish scenario. Do you know how many neckbeards you're dating right now? Seven, eight, maybe nine. I stopped counting. Really, we need to call Nev and Max up to New York. You'll be inescapable on MTV for sure.

Maybe if ya'll used your own two working stumps to make it to the three Starbucks on this block, you'd get your tall iced soy sugarfree tree bark latte whenever you want. Just a thought.

Can we just employ a bot to man the social media accounts?

Being in charge of the social media aspects of our business should be like, a treat, considering I never see your phone leave your hand anyways. And you really, really don’t need to retweet anything regarding my body, because some of it is past pornographic and into just concerning. 

Perhaps if you spent less time on our twitter and more time writing down coffee orders, you could be given more responsibility. 

[wittierwilde]

Can we just employ a bot to man the social media accounts?

If I have to look at another psycho Twitter DM from basement dwellers about Berry's cleavage I'm going to barf big time. It's a serious Health and Safety concern. I shouldn't have to acknowledge most of these losers' existences, never mind retweeting them like I think they're funny.

I'm drowning in creepy, badly-proportioned fanart. Save me. I knew that kid who got the news station internship over me should have had an accident.

[wittierwilde]

I can sell you lies You can’t get enough Make a true believer of Anyone

[wittierwilde]

Favorite Film Meme: Heathers (1988)

 It’s one thing to want someone out of your life, but it’s another thing to serve them a wake-up cup full of liquid drainer.