I’m fucking sick every time there is a monthly update by Dumb Jack Fuck, SVP of the Manka Bros. Television Group, when he tells me we are losing cable subscribers at an alarming rate.
With friends like the cable MSOs, who needs enemies?
So, sorry, Comcast.
Sorry Charter/TWC – or whatever bullshit name you have now.
You won’t have Manka Bros. to negotiate with anymore. You can give our measly 65 cent per subscriber fee for Manka Classic Movies to Ovation or some other dinosaur TV channel because MANKA BROS. IS GOING OVER-THE-TOP!
Introducing MankaGoNow – the ultimate over-the-top experience for those who would rather spend their $200/month buying little tools and furniture in Minecraft.
Thanks to amazing new technology, we no longer have to get our television channels to you via a satellite orbiting the Earth. We can now deliver the same quality programming to the consumer via a cable that is buried in the ground or stretched across the ocean. That’s progress, my friends.
The time for change is now. I see the trends – LOOK AT THIS FREAKIN’ CHART!
Only old media companies with the balls to reinvent themselves (i.e., MANKA BROS.) will survive. The rest of you will continue suck down shitty martinis at The Smoke House and reflect on the great old days when no one questioned your business models and Donny & Marie ruled primetime TV.
By going direct-to-consumer, customers now get the same amazing programming that we have on our cable channels but now everything will be available at anytime on-demand ALL FOR AN AMAZING PRICE OF $34.99/MONTH!
That’s a sick deal, you cord-cutting idiots who are trying to bury old media alive in a shallow grave.
The eggheads in Manka finance say all we need are 20 million subscribers and we’re in the money (which is only a fifth of what we get now from Comcast).
If I can drink a fifth of vodka a day, I can definitely get a fifth of our current subscribers to suck-ass Comcast to plunk over $35 a month for the best content in the world.
Would you buy a Picasso for $34.99 a month?
Would you see “Hamilton” on Broadway for $34.99?
Hell, yes, you would!
“Tennessee Williams’ Haunted Alligators,” “Forensics,” “My Wife Left Me For Bucky Dent,” “OMDB,” – and the hits go on and on – totally on demand – watch when you want, how you want, where you want – all for $34.99 a month.
Compare MankaGoNow to other crappy services out there and, you will see, there is no comparison:
And it gets better! Because we haven’t quite figured out the payment system, we are offering this service to you for a couple of months free of charge!
As of today, Manka Bros. will no longer hire anyone who is 30 or over.
Over the past year or so, I have come to realize it would be a strategic blunder for myself and the Manka Bros. shareholders to produce any new content or develop any new distribution platforms for anyone other than those between the ages of 0 and 29.
I’m not going to lose millions just so some old person can keep their job!
Based on everything we need to do going forward, there is no point to having anyone work on the creative or business side that is over 30.
Business schools call this the “Logan’s Run” HR strategy and it’s secretly being used effectively by many high-profile Silicon Valley companies.
I like to think of it more as the MTV VJ strategy of firing the VJ women (only) once they hit 25. (Look at me, “MTV VJs” – really showing my age there. Thank God I own the studio or I would right out on my ass 🙂 )
But seriously, 31-year-olds don’t know what 25-year-olds watch or how they interact with content. And no one gives a shit what a 31-year-old watches.
I mean, who is going to watch the new Mad Max movie (which was made by a 70-year-old director!)? I mean, just look at this piece of shit:
The buzz is much better for our upcoming summer release “Flaccid Trip” – which was directed by an 18-year-old high school kid using only his iPhone as a camera.
Watch this clip and you be the judge:
See what I mean? THAT’S what the young people want.
So, what’s to become of all the current employees who are over 30?
Most will be let go with the exception of anyone that is an SVP or above.
While it is true that most of the SVPs and above are rich, fat and haven’t thought of anything new or exciting in years, most of their exit packages would be too great and I don’t want to part with that cash. (And I also don’t want to disrupt my weekly squash game that I have with some of those guys.)
Everyone below SVP – who is 30 or older – should be receiving some sort of call in the next, I don’t know, month or so.
I’m sure this new policy will have its detractors and I’m sure you all have many questions – but it is nearing lunch time and I am typing this myself (my assistant is 42 and I don’t want to upset her before lunch).
Thanks for all your hard work over the years (though I know many of you didn’t work hard at all – just saying) and I hope all of you who are leaving Manka Bros. will wish us all the best as we become a younger, incredibly innovative and much more fun place to work.
P.S. – If you are 29, you may want to start looking for a job (or go on unemployment, I don’t really care).
P.P.S – Follow us on SOCIAL MEDIA! That’s right, suckers, we’re on Vine, Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, Pinterest, YouTube, Tumblr, Snapchat (maybe not) – because THAT’S what my daughter Connie says the kids are doing.Â
At Manka Bros. Studios, we have a suggestion box placed near the Fountain of Wisdom next to the 12-foot statue of my uncle – the great Khan Manka, Sr.
Normally, I don’t pay too much attention to the suggestions as they are mostly about the small portions served at the cafeteria; why isn’t gym membership free; and why we don’t give away more free stuff (like DVDs of our movies), etc.
But yesterday, I was made aware of a suggestion that I felt I should take head on:
“If Manka Bros. is currently going through a cost-cutting program which includes pretty severe headcount cuts, why wouldn’t you consider selling the Manka Bros. corporate jet in order to save a few of those jobs?”
This is a very thoughtful, but, I hate to say, very stupid and short-sighted question.
The jet stays.
Period.
I have never considered selling the jet for one very special reason – I need it. And I am the Chairman & CEO. Capische?
Without the jet, I would never have been able to take a call from COO Lloyd Grohl informing me we had won the movie rights to Cormac McCarthy’s “Rampage of the Stegosaur.”Â
Sure, I could have learned about it when I touched down in New York like a normal schlub at JFK or some such shit (if I was flying commercial like an idiot) – but I think it was important that I got that news an hour earlier so that I could think about what it meant for the company.
“But that movie lost $200 million,” you say.
And I say, shut the fuck up. We’re not done with that property, moron.
We have a musical coming out on Broadway that could end up making $1 billion. Nobody knows the future (though the music and lyrics need lots of work. Oy, those songs).
Without the jet, I wouldn’t have been able to fly to the Olympics in Sochiwithout going through security. Those lines were really long!
And do you know how hard it is to get to your house in the Seychelles when you’re flying commercial?!
Or Sun Valley? That would look pathetic to the other moguls.
So don’t tell me to sell the jet that I earned!
I’m a “MANKA,” goddamnit! Asking me to sell my plane is like me asking you to sell your child.
Go ahead, sell your child. I bet you could save a couple jobs with the money you make in the black-market-child-selling-ring.
Who looks foolish now, Ray Adler in Home Video? Oh, I mean, “Anonymous.”
The great John Grisham once wrote there is a “Time To Kill” (or Jesus said it in the Bible – I don’t know)… but last night was almost my time to kill several asshole billionaire millennials.
I just wanted to strangle them with those tight t-shirts they’re so proud of wearing.
Herb Allen has lost control of this conference. He has been overly enamored and completely overrun by the arrogant pricks that are the Silicon Valley t-shirt mafia.
Let me step back…
After a fucking long day of  interviews and presentations from the likes of Phil Jackson and Larry Page (Larry talked about robots – that’s the pot calling the kettle black – he IS a robot!) in which they said everything and yet nothing, all we in the captive audience wanted to do was relax, have a drink and a little fun.
Every year, there is always one night that is set aside for some type of entertainment in which we, the attendees, are the entertainers.
This year, Herb decided it would be fun to put on skits and songs like kids do at real summer camps. It sort of sounded like fun – many emails were sent back and forth from everyone and we all agreed.
Warren Buffett fought very hard to put on some sort of Broadway musical but there weren’t enough female moguls available to fill all the parts of something like that.
So short little rehearsed sketches or songs was the final decision.
Tim Armstrong was going to be at the piano (he plays better than Lang Lang, you know) and would accompany anyone that needed it.
But then punk ass Zuckerbergdecided he didn’t want to do a skit or song. He wanted to do improv and have an improv jam.
An improv jam in the Great Hall of the Moguls (The Limelight Ballroom)?
The fuck?!
And Herb Allen caved immediately and said it was a great idea. Much better than what he had planned.
So the skits were off and I witnessed what was possibly the worst display of comedy I have seen since our pilot episode of “My Wife Left Me For Bucky Dent.”
I would have preferred to sit and watch Barry Diller play video games on Twitch than to watch this terrible terrible improv show.
True horror is watching Mark Zuckerberg, Jeff Weiner and Ben Horowitz improvising a rap version of the “Gilligan’s Island” theme song (on an audience suggestion by Jeff Bezos).
Words can’t describe the discomfort we all felt when General Stanley McChrystal was pulled up into a scene where he was asked to get a reservation at a Mexican restaurant from an unintelligible Mexican waiter (played painfully by Les Moonves).
The General was genuinely angry and absolutely flustered by the whole experience.
It was gut-wrenching.
But the young punks ate it up.
I haven’t seen people laugh at something so awful since I was kneed in the nuts by Sumner Redstone in front of his family.
Other lowlights include:
A Charlie Rose chiquita banana bit (no further comment necessary)
A painful first date improv which took place at a laundry mat featuring Marissa Mayer (who still refuses to fix her thrashed voice – though she was the first to arrive, well ahead of schedule) and Michael Bloomberg. There was so much silence and embarrassment that people started shouting out things for them to say. They still stood, unable to come up with anything and then just stopped.
To finish, Harvey Weinstein jumped up and did a sort of one man show where he is ordering God to make some changes on Earth. It sounds funnier than it was because his changes were so stupid and it went on like 25 minutes.
It was a complete humiliation for everyone involved.
I don’t use them. I make fun of those that use them.
I didn’t go to business school so I didn’t learn how to speak cliches in meetings.
I went to drug-taking-son-of-movie-mogul school and we didn’t use buzz words except for “far out.”
It seems that everyone you hire from Ivy leagues schools has lost their ability to express themselves in a natural way.
Yet we keep hiring them because there are only so many drug-taking sons-of-movie-moguls in the talent pool and we can’t take a chance on someone from Arizona State (seriously).
But today, a buzz word is apt.
Manka Bros. and Hollywood MUST PIVOT!
Last night, as I got hammered with my old media buddies and talked about the houses we own and the places we’re planning to go for the summer – I noticed over in a corner a bunch of the young tech heads who weren’t getting that drunk and who weren’t talking about anything other than the products they create.
We have NO CHANCEÂ against much younger people who want to do nothing but talk about their work.
There are too many distractions in Hollywood.
We are rich men living rich men lives.
We drink a lot of expensive wine and scotch.
If we’re just going to concentrate on our work all the time we may as well live in a fleabag apartment in Pacoima and take the bus to work.
The spoils are the reason we got in this business.
So here I am with Rupert(who is not allowed to buy my company at any price. I’m a real mogul – not a hired mogul) and Haim Saban and a few other old media guys at the bar getting lit.
Over in one corner, sporting various wearable devices (Google glasses, Oculus viewfinders, GoPro cameras, etc.) are Larry Page, Sergey Brin, Mark Zuckerberg and the Pinterest guy and the GoPro surfer guy… and they’re freakin’ talking about the shit they make!!
And then I spot Bob Iger wearing that virtual reality helmet.
What?! Bob Iger?!
You see, Bob is no idiot.
He knows what the Hell is going on.
Though he does look ridiculous in his high collar shirt with the Oculus thing on his face pretending to be skydiving.
All this change has been happening and we have been so ignorant and so resistant!
I left my old drunk friends at the bar and squeezed my way into the hacky-sack circle of tech punks and I learned a few things.
First of all, according to the Google guys, we need to get a YouTube channel and probably buy some multi-channel network (called MCNs) of some sort.
I think we should buy it back for whatever it costs and maybe one of those gamer channels where dumb asses pay to watch other dumb asses play video games on the internet.
YouTube is buying something called Twitch and I think we need to get into that as well. Some Twitch channel that dumb asses will pay us to watch.
I have ordered my assistant, Vicky Adler-Modry, to give these instructions to the Manka Business Development group to make all of this happen immediately!
(Note: She shouldn’t have to do that because, as you know, reading my blog is mandatory and subject to termination if you don’t!)
Manka Bros. must PIVOT, DISRUPT, LEAN IN and EXECUTE!Â
CAPISCE?
Today, there is an endless stream of horrific PowerPoint presentations that I said I would attend. There is break this afternoon before our dinner tonight and annual variety show. FYI, Harvey Weinstein and I are doing an old Cheech & Chong bit which should surely kill in that room.
If anyone needs to reach me – the afternoon window is your only chance.
Make this shit happen or all of you are toast and I’ll restaff with new recruits from Arizona State!
I contemplated not going at all to the Herb Allen’s Sun Valley snorefest, but decided it was in my company’s best interest… ah, fuck that, I just wanted to get away from Hollywood which is so freakin’ boring in the summer.
But something magical happened to me on the two-hour flight up here from Burbank.
Captain Randy let me fly the plane for a bit over the mountains and it was just so beautiful that I actually started to smile. And I decided then and there to try and make this week a POSITIVE experience.
Over the past few years (2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013), I was so negative about the pointlessness of the whole week, that I didn’t even try to have a good attitude.
But none of that this year, I am going to be a willing participant no matter how stupid the activity.
I may even try to drum up a little business for the studio.
We haven’t done any major deals in a while and we’re just sitting on a bunch of cash which I really haven’t found any use for (except for a few personal real estate transactions).
One deal that definitely won’t happen, Manka Bros. will not buy DreamWorks Animation so stop with the texts, Katzenberg– though I will keep the champagne you sent to my room.
So, I have a arrived – one of the first ones here as always. As I sip my champagne (not the first of the day – I had a couple of belts on the plane) while dictating this blog over the phone to my assistant, I am genuinely excited about what is to come.
There are great changes happening in our business – even though my mogul brethren and I hate to acknowledge it – and we must embrace these changes or die.
We don’t want the dorks from Oculus Rift taking over the store.
WE will continue to produce and control the best content known to man (and wo-man) and no one is going to take that away from us.
Movie studios have always been the incubators of the world’s greatest creative minds and NOT relic-filled museums.
But I digress so that I may drink.
I understand the best bartender on the planet, Bin Tran is back at his post in The Drankin’ Hole after taking last year off (family emergency my ass).
It’s time for Old Media to strike back against the bullshit that is “Generation C” and the power this group of slack-jawed dorks seems to have over the way we have done business for over 100 years!
Every goddamned meeting we have these days is focused on how we can reach these asshole kids who, frankly, could care less about what we do as long as we occasionally vomit out another “Iron Man” sequel.
Well, I think it’s time for the industry to say – fuck them – we’re going to do what we do best and the rest of the world is going to like it – like they used to… Â until about 10 years ago.
Now all you read is story after story about teens cutting cords, “visionary” teens creating their own content and building their own empires. This cannot stand or we’ll all be out of business before the decade ends.
I’m spending more and more of my day seeing presentations about how we should buy this or that dumb ass YouTube channel or some other dumb ass OTT channel that gets 2 billions views a day for some unwatchable piece of shit that cost $2 dollars while our horrible TV networks get 2 million viewers for something that costs $2 million dollars.
Hollywood studios need to remember this – WE DECIDE WHO IS FAMOUS AND WE DECIDE WHO GETS TO PRODUCE CONTENT!
Content production is a precious commodity that must be under OUR control at all time. Chuck Lorre and Jerry Seinfeld will create our comedy. Aaron Sorkin and JJ Abrams will write our drama. Seamusand Tony Bennett will sing our songs. Alison Fogle and Nicolas Sparks will write our books. etc. etc. etc.
That’s just the way it has to be.
PewDiePie and his disruptive merry band of a-holes on YouTube must not be allowed to cross the border into Hollywood.
Let me be clear – our future sucks.
We can’t just keep throwing bigger and bigger budgets at our horrible horrible movies and TV shows and expect audiences will just bow down at our amazing lighting, acting and camera images.
My 14-year-old daughter, Connie (from whom I first heard the term “Generation C”), produces high quality videos that look just as good as anything on television and her camera cost $39.95.
No, the only option we have for our survival is to crush any new platforms and ideas created by this satanic Generation C. They are trying to destroy our impenetrable bubble. They WILL NOT destroy my lifestyle.
And the year before for that was the disastrous Burning Mogul.
This year, Herb decided to focus on team building. And what better way to do that than by building a bunch of bikes for underprivileged kids in the Sun Valley area (which probably means those kids whose parents earn less than $1 million).
My initial reaction was exactly the same as Sheryl Sandberg’s who said: “What kind of crappy ass bullshit is this waste of goddamned fucking time?!”
After a morning with Roger Goodell talking about how great the NFL is and a presentation by Larry Page talking about how great Google is (the only negatives seemed to be that both the NFL and Google have an extraordinary number of head injuries) – we now have to build bikes.
Herb Allen’s Sun Valley Conference – Early 1900s
Bikes are a big part of Herb’s Sun Valley gatherings. We all ride around on them all week looking like dorks.
Bikes were even a part of the very first Herb Allen gathering – presumably with Herb Allen’s grandfather (Sr. minus 1) – back in the early 1900s (see right).
But seriously, we’ve all made our fortune building very successful teams. You don’t get to the top of the media world without a little bit of knowledge on how build a winning team.
So nearly everyone complained when we all gathered in the Great Hall of the Moguls and saw a big pile of bike parts in the middle several round tables.
Kazuo Hirai’s “Fuck this!” was probably the loudest one I heard in the room (and there were many).
But as we got into the exercise, I began to realize the value and learning how difficult it is for a room full of arrogant pricks to actually work together and produce anything at all. Maybe there was a lesson to be learned here.
See, we moguls don’t have to do anything by ourselves. We are driven everywhere, our food is prepared for us, everything we own is always taken care of by others… if you do something yourself, you are weak and a loser. Some of us even have our own ass wiped (I promise not to mention any names, Harvey).
But we weren’t just going to be building bikes (and this is where the genius of Herb Allen really shines through), we were going to be building bikes with people we hate.
Rupert Murdoch was teamed with his sons James and Lachlan…
Barry Diller was teamed with Leslie Moonves and John Malone…
I could go on and on with hateful matching – but, basically, if one person was known to hate another person, they were put on the same team.
Because Herb knew that I would probably either not show up or not want to participate, he made me a facilitator . I just had to walk around the room and make sure people were completing their task.
The Great Gong Of The Moguls
Each team had 30 minutes. Herb Allen banged the Great Gong of the Moguls (left) and everyone started to build their bikes.
The first table I stopped at was with the team of Thomas Tull, Brian Roberts, Steve Burke and Jeff Bewkes. Tull and his new Comcast NBC Universal brethren seemed to be working together pretty well – with Jeff Bewkes disengaged, looking at his phone.
[For the record, Manka Bros. officially passed on a deal with Legendary weeks ago after Mr. Tull requested (on top of an insultingly low theatrical distribution fee of 8%) my parking space, complete access to my executive spa and vomitorium and a further demand that I call him “Lord Thomas.” The distribution fee I could stomach but the other things – all non-starters.]
After a few moments of harmony, things started to break down and Thomus Tull got really frustrated that he wasn’t being allowed to build the bike all by himself. So he decided to go to an unassigned table and build another bike himself. The Comcast guys tried to get him to stay by saying: “Lord Thomas, please, let’s give it another shot… you can put the wheels on… we won’t interfere… etc. etc.. (Humorous anecdote: When he tried to ride his bike at the end, the wheels fell off.)
I then moved over to Rupert Murdoch’s table. Rupert was yelling at his son James “Righty tighty! Lefty loosey, you idiot!” Lachlan then repeated what he dad said but with less enthusiasm. “Chase Carey knows how to screw on a bolt!”
Things were really heated at the Barry Diller, Les Moonves and John Malone table. Definitely no love loss there. No one had budged an inch to start the process. Finally, Barry Diller said: “Whatever, let’s just fucking put this thing together and get to the bar.”
Les Moonves got right up in Barry’s face: “I hope you brought one of the little antennas, the TV in the bar ain’t free for you.”
Barry Diller: “I definitely brought enough little antennas for your mother! I think it’s adorable how you defend something so old as broadcast television. Like helping an old lady across the street.”
Les Moonves: “Yeah, I’d like to help your mother across the street!”
Barry Diller: “That’s not even an insult.”
John Malone got involved: “Frankly, I don’t care what you do to broadcast – but if you come after cable, Diller, I’m gonna have a problem with that. And you don’t want me or my karate friends in cable to have a problem.”
Barry Diller: “Oh my God, the testosterone of old media is so pathetic.”
I intervened before a silly slap fight broke out and reminded them of the task at hand.
I continued on. Most in the room were just talking or looking at their phones. There was one young group of Silicon Valley guys doing hacky-sack.
Then I heard one group finish because Sumner Redstone yelled “Bingo!”
Everyone looked over to see Sumner and Sergey Brin and Larry Page (with King Abdullah II of  Jordan thrown in for good measure) posed in front of a gleaming new bike. They were all wearing Google Glass. (I don’t think Sumner remembered that the Google guys were also the YouTubeguys and that he was suing them for $1 billion.)
There was a non-caring disappointed groan in the room and then a non-caring round of applause for the winners.
And that was it – another Day 2 disaster at the Sun Valley conference.
The Build-A-Bike technicians came in at the end and finished all the bikes.
They actually turned out so cool that we all decided to keep the bikes for ourselves.
Because of my bad back, I passed on the river raft ride (there’s nothing more pathetic than a couple of hundred CEOs acting like they know how to white water raft).
I’m at the The Drankin’ Hole dictating this blog and then off to a BBQ hosted by Bobby Flay.
What will tomorrow bring? More bullshit. More crap. Don’t envy us. Our lives suck just as much as yours.
They put me in the Batman room this year. This room is not easy to get. I think it was scheduled to be Thomas Tull’s room – but well, you know, shit happens. So now it’s mine! (I’m sure the Time Warner guys aren’t too happy about that – but Jeff Bewkes actually requested the Nicolas Sparks’ “The Notebook” room – so it’s all good.)
You see, all of the rooms at the Sun Valley Lodge have a different theme.
There’s a Disney Princess room (probably for Bob Iger and his wife Thunder Bay – I think that’s her name); a Star Wars room (there is always a fight over which tech dork gets that one); a Harry Potter room (which is under the main staircase – another favorite among Time Warner people and Brits);  a Haunted Alligators swamp room (a poor effort to throw a bone to a Manka Bros. IP); a Prison room (sometimes used to help a banker CEO get ready for real prison – ha!), etc. etc.
They should add a few Facebook rooms for those who don’t want any privacy at all – ha ha!
Themed rooms are great for families and sexually adventurous couples but really awful for a media mogul trying to get stuff done. Every time I call the concierge all I get back is “Yes, Batman” – “Of course, Batman” – “Right away, Batman.” Enough already!
And it doesn’t really matter what kind of agenda Herb “crafts” – it always comes down to the same shit: How the fuck is old media going to survive after traditional TV and film die an ugly death?
The answer is simple – we either roll over and wait for Google to acquire us all and then wait for our instructions… or we band together and acquire Google and Facebook and Apple and everyone else that is threatening our very existence and shut them down without mercy.
I like the second option.
In the meantime, I have avoided the press and retreated to The Drankin’ Hole to record my thoughts for this blog and to have a few dirty martinis and the Sun Valley Lodge’s world famous chili cheese fries.
To my horror, the greatest bartender in the world – Bin Tran – is not here this week! He has a daughter that is giving birth to his twelfth  grandchild (or some such shit) and he is at the hospital. His brother – Vin Tran – is taking his place for the week.
His brother sucks at making dirty martinis. He even had trouble with Brian Roberts’ club soda!
Day 1 is always slow and always makes me wonder why the hell I came up here – though the goodie bag is nice.
Inside this year’s bag is:
An  iWatch (though we were told not to show anyone outside of the conference or even acknowledge that it exists. Off the record, it’s really amazing and everyone will buy one);
The key fob to a new Tesla (courtesy of Elon Musk). Only 10 will unlock the doors of new Teslas at the end of the Conference. To my chagrin, EVERYONE does not get a new car!
A small, specially made, hand-crafted balloon dog sculpture by Jeff Koons;
A box of See’s Candies;
And, what I thought was really unique, a bar of gold.
OK – this place is starting to fill up.
Michael Eisner and former UK Prime Minister Tony Blair just walked in (not together – thank God) so I’m going to cut it off here and get busy drinking. I have to warn Tony Blair to not order anything from Vin Tran more difficult than a Jack & Coke.
Check back here tomorrow for an update on the always exciting Day 2.
A few of us are having a great night drinking schnapps and eating crab. I won’t name names for security reasons but their initials are DM, RM, BD, JB, CC – you figure it out.
I just received my daily fax of important Hollywood internet stories from my assistant, Vicky Adler-Modry, and noticed that apparently Nikki Finke was fired from Deadline Hollywood.
I didn’t even realize that was possible – basically the equivalent of me getting fired from Manka Bros. We all know this is an impossible thing. It would take gunfire and a hostage situation to remove me from my post and that wouldn’t be legal – so I guess nothing could get me out.
[Goddamnit, Barry Diller just fucking spilled watermelon schnapps on my white carpet! But I digress…]
Let me get right to the point and I’ll speak directly to Nikki as I write:
Manka Bros. would like to offer you, Nikki Finke, a job – doing pretty much whatever you would like. If you’ve seen our numbers lately, we need help in most areas of the business.
If you would like to start a cut-throat-destroy-someone’s-life-type blog like you are currently running – that would be fine.
If you would like to work as a partner with our own in-house cut-throat-destroy-someone’s-life-type-blog – OnMedea – that would be fine as well. She would love the help.
If you would like to run our Theatrical Group– that would be fine, too. Robin Rafe has really been sucking lately and needs to be replaced at some point (off the record).
Or just pick something off our Jobs board – we’ve got a few great openings right now.
So, think about it, Nikki – Manka Bros. is one place you will never be fired from (unless you write about me or my family). Call my assistant at the studio, Vicky Adler-Modry (or just Friend her on Facebook).
I have to get back to karaoake – Rupert’s about to sing “MacArthur Park” – (never to be missed).
Khan Manka, Jr. – Chairman & CEO – Manka Bros. Studios – The World’s Largest Media Company
