Monthly Archives: April 2009

10 Days for NPH — Day One

When I began my 10 Days for Tina Fey series, I was hoping, in fact praying, that my efforts would lead to Tina Fey acknowledging my existence, leading to a position on her writing team, a contract to be an executive producer of my own series, development of my own highly successful series and spin-offs, along with a slew of professional accolades, and culminating in the hubby and me retiring on a beach in Santa Barbara sipping sweet tea vodka as we watched the sunset every day from our ocean-front mansion.

Well, I haven’t heard from Tina Fey yet, so I have decided to turn my attention to NPH, aka Neil Patrick Harris.  As I child, I enjoyed watching NPH’s adventures as the precocious Doogie Howser, M.D.  During the show’s heyday, I recall repeatedly requesting that my parents purchase a computer, so that I too could log my thoughts and intuitions into digital immortality.  That never happened, so I was resigned to tapping my fingers erratically on a pillow, as I spoke my theories of youth and self-realization.

NPH has since evolved into a comedic genius.  His outrageous cameo in Harold & Kumar Go to White Castle was merely the tip of the iceberg.  On How I Met Your Mother, NPH plays Barney Stinson, a womanizing bro with a soft spot for true friendship.  

So NPH.  Hear my pleas.  I have now completed a script for How I Met Your Mother.  The storyline for my script has come and gone on the show, but I don’t care.  And neither will you when you reach the climax of my script and scream, “Eureka!”  And once you finish reading my script, you will channel your inner Doogie Howser, get onto your blue-screened computer, and write an email to me at alexis.nectar [at], in which you state:

Alexis Nectar,

I have read your script, and it tastes like sweet nectar from the heavens.  I shall call you Manna.  When can you start?


Oh, and before I forget.  NPH, if you’re reading this, I have a friend who totally wants to make out with you.  I realize that you’re gay, but I don’t think she cares so much, so long as you don’t care.

Discover me, Tina Fey NPH!



Filed under Plea to NPH, Plea to Tina Fey

10 Spankin’ New Days for Tina Fey — Day Ten

Last night, I took a cab home on the advice of the hubby.  While at home, I attempted to plot a Google Maps route to my office that would not entail brushes with vehicular death on ill-planned VA—>DC roads.  Unsuccessful with such plotting, I had a decision to make this morning—drive to work on the clusterf*ck known as Route 50, or take the Swine Flu Express?

I decided to risk the Swine Flu Express, since cases had not yet been reported in my immediate area . . . although DC is smack dab in between reported cases in New Jersey/New York, and North Carolina.  First, I packed my bag with a handful of tissues, to be used as I await the shipment of my N95 face masks.  Second, I also packed a bottle of alcohol-based hand sanitizer (vanilla scented, thank you very much).  As I descended into the Metro, I became overwhelmed with a familiar scent—the smell of burning rubber.  Such scent became far more alarming . . . if the burning rubber scent from within the depths of the Metro tunnel could travel upwards to become detectible from the top of the Metro escalators, it became more conceivable that airborne viruses and pathogens could spread just as easily.

Finally, I entered the depths of the Metro and and had the opportunity to enter a packed train headed toward DC.  While most saw a packed train with an opening for entrance, I saw this:

Swine Flu Express

Image Link

Since I did not have my Hazmat suit (how the hell do you buy one of these things?), I decided to wait for the next train.  The next train came and was moderately filled, with sufficient spacing in between standing individuals that would enable me to insulate myself with my makeshift mask.  However, as I thought about stepping into the train, I noticed a woman wiping her nose with what appeared to be a tissue that had become so overloaded with virus-filled mucus that it had formed a hard, moist ball that contained sufficient pathogens to off a small city.  The woman’s head was tilted downward, and her forehead appeared to have a few beads of sweat, indicating a fever.  In other words, she looked a little like this:

Swine Flu ExpressImage Link

Needless to say, I backed out and waited for the next train.  Finally, the next train arrived and was moderately empty.  I located a standing position in which I was blocked from potential pathogens with a door and a wall, thus limiting my exposure to a half-circle around my body.  I steadied myself for the bumpy ride using my legs, being careful to never touch anything in the Metro.  I exited one stop early, bursting out but careful in avoiding contact with other individuals.  As I came out from within the depths of the Metro, I slathered hand sanitizer all over my hands and wrists—and maybe a little on my exposed forearms for good measure.

Tina Fey, if you hire me to be on your staff, I promise to be totally free of swine flu.  I’m taking all the necessary precautions right now.  And I’ll totally fit in with your writers.  I’m creative.  I’m hard-working.  I’m personable.  And who wouldn’t want to spend hours in a writers’ room with someone donning a face mask and goggles, and applying hand sanitizer on the hour?  

Discover me, Tina Fey!

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Filed under Life, Plea to Tina Fey, WMATA - Metro

10 Spankin’ New Days for Tina Fey — Day Nine

I am terrified of obsessed with the swine flu.  Since news broke out of the disease, I’ve been diligently washing my hands after every encounter with the outside world.  After my anthrax scare, I’m not sure that my mental health can take yet another brush with death.  And for those of you who think that my paranoia has reached an all-time high, let me remind you of past pandemics:

  • 1918 Flu Outbreak:  Deaths upwards of 100 million
  • 2002-03:  Approx. 800 deaths, with a case-fatality rate of 9.6%
  • 2007 Philippines Swine Flu Outbreak:  Death tolls unknown
  • 2009 Swine Flu Outbreak:  103 deaths, and counting

In my thirst for information that will feed my insanity and paranoia, while disregarding any information that would logically refute my paranoid delusions, I investigated the 2007 Swine Flu outbreak that occurred in the Philippines.  According to Wikipedia, the fatality rate was 10%, unless there were “hog cholera” complications, which increased the mortality rate dramatically.

. . . 


I don’t know about you, but when I hear “cholera,” I immediately think of the classic childhood game, The Oregon Trail.  I remember hours and hours of play in front of my Apple IIE, attempting to navigate my avatar family to safety on the Oregon Trail.  I never won that game.  Inevitably, members of my family would be picked off, one by one, by various ailments–e.g. typhoid, dysentary, and cholera.  Indeed, any time a single member of my family became even somewhat ill, I knew that said member was pretty much dead weight and should be discarded immediately to prevent infection of others.  Too bad the game did not give me the ability to dump Mama off the train, if you know what I mean.

So Tina Fey, if you’re listening, please be careful.  I recommend purchasing some surgical masks for use in heavily populated areas.  I’m about to purchase my own “Biological Warfare Kit.”  I can’t seem to find an actual premade kit online, however, the Internet provides a bounty of resources whereby you can create your very own kit.  Hell, if you never hear my pleas, perhaps an alternative career path would be to create a small business to sell these ready-made kits.  Of course, with such a business, it would be in my financial interest to create waves of panic.  And perhaps the best method to create such panic would be to convince an influential person, like you, to wear a surgical mask in a heavily populated area.  Or not . . .

Discover me, Tina Fey!

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10 Spankin’ New Days for Tina Fey — Day Eight

Recently, an LA Superior Court judge dismissed a case against, among others, Sacha Baron Cohen, in connection with “Da Ali G Show.”  The woman, who sued as “Jane Doe,” alleged that she was defamed when Ali G made reference to her in a skit about amending the US Constitution.

Ain’t it better sometimes, to get rid of the whole thing rather than amend it cos, like me used to go out with this bitch called [Jane Doe] and she used to always be trying to amend herself.  Y’know, get her hair done in highlights, get like tattoo done on her batty crease, y’know gave the whole thing shaved n very nice but it didn’t make any more difference.  She was still a minger and so, y’know, me had enough and once me got her pregnant me said alright, laters, that is it.  Ain’t the same with the Constitution?

Claiming gross physical and emotional damages, Jane Doe sought $800,000.  The Court tossed the suit out, bringing up the purportedly obvious fact that “[n]o reasonable person could consider the statements made by Ali G on the program to be factual.”  I’m not sure I agree with the judge.  I mean, look at the guy:

Ali GImage Link

Seriously, doesn’t he look like a rap star training for the Tour de France and wearing a full-body Live Strong suit?  However, the judge continued:

To the contrary, it is obvious that the Ali G character is absurd, and all his statements are gibberish and intended as comedy.  The actor, Sacha Baron Cohen, never strays from the Ali G character, who is dressed in a ridiculous outfit and speaks in the exaggerated manner of a rap artist.  Ali G’s statements are similarly absurd.  For example, prior to the reference to Plaintiff, while ‘interviewing’ the author Gore Vidal, Ali G refers to the Constitution of the United States as having been written on two tablets, clearly intended to confuse the Constitution with the Ten Commandments.  Altogether, the program is obviously a spoof of a serious interview program.  No reasonable person could think otherwise.

Seriously though — what if Ali G were to refer to me in the upcoming feature-length film?  What if he talked about knocking me up and leaving his baby daddy responsibilities? 

. . . 

Hell yeah!  Any publicity is good publicity!  Ali G, if you’re going to refer to me, I only ask that you make sure to reference this Web site.  Let’s say that you are interviewing Dubya about torture.  I propose that you state the following:

Me wit you, fo sho.  I say torture all them mofos.  Like Alexis Nectar.  Bitch been callin’ me nonstop, torturing me and askin’ for me to pay for some baby.  I ain’t even the baby daddy!  That Maury Povich told me so.  But all that bitchin’ and torturing — after awhile, me bout to say anything to get that bitch to lay off.  Please visit for more details.  And Tina Fey, Discover Her!

Yes!  A new plan of attack!

Discover me, Tina Fey!

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Filed under Legal Woes, Plea to Tina Fey, Television

10 Spankin’ New Days for Tina Fey — Day Seven

I am an avid fan of American Idol, often much to the chagrin of the hubby, who probably secretly hopes for the extinction of the show (and the shameless product placement in that show).  Yesterday, THR had the following article containing excerpts from the incomparable Simon Cowell.

When asked about the future, Cowell stated:

The idea that for the next five years, I’d be doing exactly what I’ve been doing for the past five years . . . the thought is just too depressing.

I’d go nuts, bored out of my mind.  You have to evolve, you have to change.  I like the challenge of launching something new.

It made me think about where I could be in five years.  Whether I, too, could launch something new.  Perhaps, in five years, Tina Fey will have already discovered me, and I will be on my way to accepting a WGA award.  Perhaps the change will be less dramatic, and the legal profession will suffice as an outlet for my creative writing.  Perhaps, in five years, I will be on day 1,279 of my 10 Days for Tina Fey series.

Many words can be used to adequately summarize my attempts at finding success in television.  Given the statistics, coupled with my risk-averse nature, my Hollywood fantasies appear delusional, at best.  Thankfully, for my own sanity (and my hubby’s sanity), the very act of creative writing provides unparalleled joy.  But there can be so much more.  A girl can hope, right?  My dream may never materialize, but as eloquently stated by Cowell (made more eloquent by his British accent), I gotta at least go for it:

Being No. 1 is verging on an obsession with me.  I don’t like being No. 2.  I don’t mind when you start at No. 10 — people don’t always go on as No. 1 — and you’ve got somewhere to go.  But if you’re at the point you’ve reached it, of course you want to stay there.

I have not reached No. 1.  I’m not even close.  But Tina, if you give me a chance, I’ll make it. 

I love human interest stories.  Even my own.

Discover me, Tina Fey!

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Filed under I Heart Reality TV, Plea to Tina Fey, Television

10 Spankin’ New Days for Tina Fey — Day Six

This past weekend, I started writing my new spec script.  This time, I’m writing an episode of How I Met Your Mother.  As I was brainstorming storylines, I closed my eyes and began to imagine devoting my life to writing.  To be fair, my current life as an attorney is indeed devoted to writing, so the transition would not be entirely earth-shattering.  I imagined my life as a writer, living in LA or in Manhattan; long hours in the writers’ room; chugging mug after mug of coffee to keep my brain fresh and the words humorous.  After years of strenuous work, I imagined finally becoming a show runner and developing my own series for a major network.  I saw the show take off, both critically and in the ratings.  Perhaps my show would unseat American Idol for prime time network dominance.  Would my show be a comedy?  A drama?  A dramedy?

However, my fantasies immediately became interrupted when I began to think of how my traditional Taiwanese parents would react to my sudden change of career path.


ALEXIS and her HUBBY are in a restaurant with Alexis’ nameless parents, MOM and DAD.  Dad is restless, sighing and staring at his watch, which shows a time exactly 30 minutes beyond his normal dinner time.  A sizzling rice soup arrives, and the four begin to eat.  Alexis and Hubby appear nervous and tense.


So mom and dad, you know how I had something to tell you?


Oh, you finally pregnant?  It’s about time!  Your eggs are old.  Boy or girl?  You eat more.  You eat for two now.

Mom scoops additional soup into Alexis’ bowl.


No mom.  I’m not pregnant.


Ay!  You cannot get pregnant?  I will die with no grandchildren!

(to Dad)

This is your fault!  She is your daughter!


Mom!  We haven’t even tried to get pregnant.  It’s not about that.


What is it then?  You need money?  You still have a job?  You both laid off?


Well, it’s kind of related.  We both have jobs, but I wanted to talk to you about my job.


Oh, you go back to big firm?  I tell you many times you need to go back to big firm and make big money.  You finally listen!  You hear that?  Your daughter finally listen!



You pay the check then.  We order more!

Dad waves at the SERVER, who promptly attends to the table.


(in Mandarin)

A Peking Duck and a whole fish.


From the tank?


Oh yes, yes, yes.  I go pick our fish.

Dad leaves the table with the server and proceeds to point at various options for the slaughter.


Mom.  Listen to me.  It’s not that.


You sick?  American health care very bad.


No!  It’s not that. 


I’m quitting my job.  


To make more money, right?


Well, maybe in the future.  

Hubby places his hand on Alexis’ back and nudges her.

ALEXIS (cont’d)

I’m going to quit my job to be a writer.


Huh?  Write for what?  Lawyer newspaper?


No mom.  For TV.  I want to be a TV writer.

Mom sits at the table, food dangling from her mouth.  


You say again?  My English no good.  I thought I hear you say stupid.


Mom, I got a position.  It’s just a starting position, but it’s a position where I can finally do what I love.  I’m going to write for TV.

Dad returns to the table, holding his hands up in victory.


I picked biggest fish for us!


You go tell them to put fish back!  Alexis is poor!  




They cannot pay!  Go save fish!

Dad runs off, screaming to the nearest server.

MOM (cont’d)

Are you crazy?


Mom, it’s my dream.  It’s what I’ve always wanted to do.


And my dream was to live with my doctor daughter and her doctor husband.  I don’t have my dream.  Why I send you to Harvard for law school?  You go to Harvard to be a lawyer.  You don’t go to Harvard to work for TV.


Well, actually mom, it’s not uncommon.  Many lawyers become television writers.  Like David E. Kelley, or Rick Eid.  They were both lawyers who became very successful writers.


Your daddy and me are too old for this.  How you going to make money?  How you going to buy a house for your daddy and me to live?


Oh, well [Hubby] is still working at a big law firm.  He’s going to make partner and support us all!

Oops.  I just realized that I haven’t revealed that portion of the plan to the hubby.  Oh well.  Surprise!  You’re making partner and supporting us all!

Discover me, Tina Fey!

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Filed under Legal Woes, Life, Plea to Tina Fey, Television

A Step in the Right Direction

After months of making fruitless pleas to Tina Fey, I noticed a spike in my stats today.  Many thanks to the folks at the Bitter Lawyer for finding my blog and linking me.  Lord knows I can’t even find my damn blog with a Google search, so I have no idea how they found me.  I don’t know who the editors of the Bitter Lawyer are, but if any of them know Tina Fey, this wannabe screenwriter would totally whore herself out for a chance at Tina reading her script.  I mean, I do have some standards, but tis a slippery slope to screenwriting heaven.  Hint hint.  Wink wink.

From the Bitter Lawyer:

Hey, Tina Fey, please discover a lawyer-cum-wannabe-screenwriter with such schadenfreude that a brush with life-threatening mail fraud makes her want to be noticed by you.  Or don’t.  It’s your call, Fey.

I suppose this summary sounds facetious, at best, but I don’t care.

Discover me, Tina Fey!

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Filed under Legal Woes, Life, Plea to Tina Fey