Harry on good days:
I'm smart, I'm good-looking, everybody likes me.
Harry on bad days:
I have no common sense, everybody is a jerk, at least I'm good looking.
Life on the cusp of everything. A step away from success, a step away from failure, but always a step away.
On good days:
An agent, I have a real agent.
On bad days:
He doesn't return my calls. He doesn't get me meetings anymore.
On good days:
Connections, I have built a network from scratch. Nigel, Mike, Gomez, the Cohen brothers.
On bad days:
That's the Cohen brothers with an 'h'. Don't much of a network. Pestering Mike to pitch to his show, to no avail. He humors me, he likes me, but he isn't opening the fucken door. Nigel has lost interest in me since Prupas, not the right stuff for his agency. And Gomez's pilot deal fell apart.
On good days:
I'm scoring with girls.
On bad days:
Well, really just Wendy, which doesn't really count and I haven't met anyone else. I'm lonely, I'm scared.
On good days:
I already have a writing credit on an established animated show. I can call myself a professional screenwriter. I have a Writer's Guild card.
On bad days:
Seven minute cartoon episodes are bogus and I haven't even been able to get more work on that show. It was a shared writing credit with a hummus grease-ball. And most Writer's Guild members can't make a living.
On good days:
We love you, Harry.
On bad days:
The mocking answering machine: "You have no new messages."
I can't sleep. I'm lonely. Feel so lo-lo-lo, feel so lo-lo-lo. Lonely, lonely. So looonely, so looonely.
Who am I, what am I doing?
I don't have a clue.
It's 4 AM in the morning and Harry can't fall back asleep.
Some fun this adult world.
Harry never wants to grow up.
I'm smart, I'm good-looking, everybody likes me.
Harry on bad days:
I have no common sense, everybody is a jerk, at least I'm good looking.
Life on the cusp of everything. A step away from success, a step away from failure, but always a step away.
On good days:
An agent, I have a real agent.
On bad days:
He doesn't return my calls. He doesn't get me meetings anymore.
On good days:
Connections, I have built a network from scratch. Nigel, Mike, Gomez, the Cohen brothers.
On bad days:
That's the Cohen brothers with an 'h'. Don't much of a network. Pestering Mike to pitch to his show, to no avail. He humors me, he likes me, but he isn't opening the fucken door. Nigel has lost interest in me since Prupas, not the right stuff for his agency. And Gomez's pilot deal fell apart.
On good days:
I'm scoring with girls.
On bad days:
Well, really just Wendy, which doesn't really count and I haven't met anyone else. I'm lonely, I'm scared.
On good days:
I already have a writing credit on an established animated show. I can call myself a professional screenwriter. I have a Writer's Guild card.
On bad days:
Seven minute cartoon episodes are bogus and I haven't even been able to get more work on that show. It was a shared writing credit with a hummus grease-ball. And most Writer's Guild members can't make a living.
On good days:
We love you, Harry.
On bad days:
The mocking answering machine: "You have no new messages."
I can't sleep. I'm lonely. Feel so lo-lo-lo, feel so lo-lo-lo. Lonely, lonely. So looonely, so looonely.
Who am I, what am I doing?
I don't have a clue.
It's 4 AM in the morning and Harry can't fall back asleep.
Some fun this adult world.
Harry never wants to grow up.
On good days:
This is fun, I'll never regret a thing.
This is fun, I'll never regret a thing.
On bad days:
I regret everything.
It's 4 AM in the morning and Harry wants to get back to sleep.
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