Manager*: You need to write a blog today.
James: Nah man, I wrote one yesterday.
M: Did you really? Or did you just watch The Wire?
J: Do you know who doesn’t have to write blogs? Omar. [Raises imaginary shotgun.]
M: What are you going to write about then?
J: Um… How about a list of the shit jobs I’ve had, with a few sentences about each? All dripping in the sardonic angst I’m loved for, of course… Know what I’m saying?
M: You did that last week. What else have you got?
J: KNOW WHAT I’M SAYING?
M: [Silence.]
J: KNOW WHA–
M: James! My throat’s sore. I’m not playing this game today.
J: Well what about a kind of ‘think-y’ look at the future of the creative agency? Will your next office be in a rezoned warehouse in a former industrial area, or a rezoned woolshed in a newly gentrified hub? Check out this high-tech chainless bicycle someone commissioned engineers from a European car manufacturer to build! It’s a very exciting time to have a blog, you know.
M: Jesus, when did you get so shit? You’ve lost your edge. At least try and be credible.
J: Ugh. Fine: “A band with one girl in it shot on a medium-format camera.” Happy?
M: That’s not a whole story.
J: Okay, then one of them – the main one, not the girl – has autism. Sad. Beautiful. [Raises roof x 3].
J: What about that fan fiction where I have sex with Tim Rogers from You Am I? You know, [lowers voice] GAY sex.
M: What other kind of sex would you have with a man?
J: Yeah well, your Mum’s your Dad… So that must be pretty weird for you.
M: That doesn’t make any sense.
J: Look. Why don’t I just post something I wrote in 2007? The dated references will look like they were done on purpose, so I’ll look smart-funny.
M: Whatever. Just do that.