Scouse bus shelter

One of the Corporation's comedy commissioning editors has just emailed me this:

FROM: Jon.Rolph02@Corporation.co.uk
TO: TVC01@Corporation.co.uk
SUBJECT: Liverpool bus shelter sitcom issue

Hi TVC,

Bad news I'm afraid. Dave Longley's sitcom pilot set in a Liverpool bus shelter on a Sunday afternoon might need to be temporarily shelved.

I've just got word from Lee Martin, his agent, that he tried to crack a gag about Rhys Jones (the kid that got murdered) whilst doing stand-up in Liverpool and nearly got bottled as a result.

How do you want me to proceed with this highly charged situation?

Yours,
Jon

This situationalist sitcom is a cracking idea and I don't want to lose it. We have three hip, shouty, cool-as-fuck Scouse teenagers just hanging around in a bus shelter and every week their respective grandparents come by because they need to catch a bus to go to Bingo.

Often, the young people are still strung out on high-end drugs from partying at Cream the previous night. Hilarity ensures! There is no laughter track and the dialogue is very 'street' (much to the confusion of the elderlys).

Real generation gap material that My Audience will completely relate to (even if I don't).

FROM: TVC01@Corporation.co.uk
TO: Jon.Rolph02@Corporation.co.uk
SUBJECT: RE: Liverpool bus shelter sitcom issue

This is way too hot for the Corp right now. We don't need another Hillsborough or Boris Johnson fuck up. Fuck Longley. Go find me someone else who's funny and can patch this mess up.
Warm regards
TVC

It is paramount that the people of Liverpool don't get wind that the Youth Channel was ready to give Longley his TV break - that city has a nasty history of ganging up and holding grudges on the media.

(I hear Dave Gravy is one Scouser who still to this day refuses to buy The Sun)

The last thing I need is to be hated by the entire population of Liverpool!

Poaching Jeremy Kyle

Whilst Kyle is getting a bashing in the news about his 'human bear baiting' style of information-rich daytime content, I have instructed Anthony to contact his agent ASA-fucking-P to set up a secret meeting with the talented (and very suave looking) Jezza.



With ratings-proven talent like this getting a kicking at Network Centre (I hear that uber-nervy old man Michael Grade wants to tone down his whole raison d'être) Jezza is ripe for the plucking.

My aim is to lure him to the Youth Channel at a bargain rate of £145k per year (plus appearance fees, book spin-offs, etc) and a guaranteed commissioning run of 364 episodes (he can have Xmas day off) to be made by his own indie [I'll even let him stay in Manchester if he so wishes].

He'll be swimming in a veritable semen-and-piss-filled jacuzzi of cash.

And I'll have secured the youngest and most talented shock-journalist of his generation to host a new late night talk show called, simply, KYLE!

Move the fuck to one side Paxo and Charlotte Church!!

What a coup. This will send shock waves through the industry that will even be felt in Thommo's sleepy Cotswold retreat. And it will make My Channel feel really front-agenda stuff.

You can't deny I know how to spot raw talent when I see it.

F**king fuming with Andy Parfitt

FROM: TVC01@Corporation.co.uk
TO: AParfitt03@Corporation.co.uk
CC: legal_compliance01@Corporation.co.uk
BCC: Fifi01@Corporation.co.uk
DATE: Wed, 26 Sep 2007 13:08:31 +0100
SUBJECT: Buzzwords & Trademarks

Andy,

Firstly, really enjoyed attending the VIP Radio 1 40th birthday party the other night. Thanks for the invite and your kind hospitality.

Anyway, it has been drawn to my attention by a third party that the Insight Boards over at the Corporation's Switch HQ may contain mission-speak that closely resembles some of my programming slogans. Specifically, "make it sticky".

I must remind you and your colleagues that the term "Itchy Reality" was official registered as a trademark in May shortly after I arrived at the Corporation. On May 29th I sent out my first commissioning brief outlining my vision for the Youth Channel, where I debuted the term "Itchy Reality" for the first time. I have subsequently made the term a key part of my mission slogans (as you would know if you visited my office and saw my various mood boards), and also launched an exclusive range of Youth Channel merchandise (courtesy of Taylor Herring) at the Edinburgh TV Festival in August.

This means that I have exclusive use of the term "Itchy Reality", 'including any phrases or other adjectives that obviously link or allude to the notion of any content that is produced or formed with "itchiness" in mind at the creative point of origin. These words include, but are in no way limited, to: SCRATCHY™; STICKY™; PRICKLY™; SMUDGY™, SCREECHY™ & SQUELCHY™...

(that's all taken directly from the terms of my trademark agreement, by the way).

Look, I certainly don't want to poo all over the great work the Switch team are starting to do - after all, their demographic feeds directly into mine - but I think that stepping on the Youth Channel's toes is something you need to be acutely aware of.

I look forward to working with you on more sticky™ (!) projects in future.

Warm regards,
TVC
Sent from my BlackBerry® wireless device

Fuck Storyville

Enlightening breakfast meeting with Fifi at The Grill at the Dorchester, discussing at length what to do with the re-allocation of funds from Storyville.

[Personally I cannot wait for the extra cash to plow into innovative drama and spunky music entertainment with Zane Lowe]

She agrees with me that Storyville had long since ceased in its usefulness and been taken over by the predictable elitist artfilm wank brigade.

A bit like the Sheffield Documentary Festival.

I want my TV to be entertaining and fun and young. We should cater for The Kids, not a bunch of documentary obsessed rich Guardian-reading jacket&jeans-wearing white blokes... like me!

No!

Our output must be inclusive. Welcoming. Multi-dimensional. And have 360 degree scope.

So before you militant old school snore-umentary makers start picketing my office, please note that I am distributing a questionnaire through my alt-focus group community network of websites (Bebo, Myspace, Friends Reunited, FaceFluff etc), plugging mainline into what Da Kidz think.

They will have the final say.

TV QUESTIONNAIRE (please send back for your chance to win a PS3)
1) Do you know what The Corporation is? (for a bonus point have you ever heard of some 'geezer bloke' called Mark Thompson?)

2) When was the last time you saw a Storyville documentary?

3) Do you remember the name of it? (for a bonus point can you correctly spell the name of aforementioned documentary film?)

4) When was the last time you were at a 'banging' party and someone said the following: "yo, man, did you catch that great Storyville thinkpiece about karaoke singing farmers in the Ukraine last night, innit?"

5) When was the last time you ever met someone who worked in TV that watched Storyville and tried to get you to Sky Plus it (for a tenner and some free fags)?

6) Do you give a shit and prefer to download DVDs and happy slap your friends?

Once the results have been collated I will distribute them to prove once and for all that NO-ONE OUTSIDE OF TV GIVES A FUCK ABOUT STORYVILLE.

Now, where did I put my dental floss??

Richard Macer has been living in a Travelodge

Offbeat, one-off, camp documentaries hold zero interest for me these days. Especially if it involves Richard Macer sleeping on a camp bed in this ugly couple's hotel room. He's been living with them for the past 6 weeks making a film about what he calls their "heartwarming yet extraordinary" lifestyle.

Now that Todd Austin has done a runner, I suppose Macer sees me as his next port of call for his One Life-substandard documentaries.

Fuck off Macer.

Still *very* unhappy at the way he fucked up the access I'd semi-negotiated for him to go in and do an observational but fluffy series at Selfridges.

Macer won't be getting any more free rides from the Youth Channel. I suggest he goes and makes friends with Corporation rejects like Jo "happy" Clinton-Davis at ITV or Ralph Lee at Channel fucking Five.

Mexico season tender Part II

FROM: TVC01@Corporation.co.uk
TO: headgirl@silverriver.tv; s.wurtzler@target.tv; amanda_murphy@richochet.com; lauren.hennessey@walkoutthames.co.uk; sarah.walmsley@iwcscotland.com; amy@blastproductions.com; kellyf@maverick-tv.com; sarah_ramsden@cheetah.endemolglobal.inc.tv; leanne@wall2wall.com; r_wrigley@celadortv.co.uk; laura@outlineproductions.com; viv@gordongecko.com; virginia@fresh.com; lucysutcliffe@rdf.co.uk; jpilkington@monkeymagic.co.uk
BCC: Fifi01@Corporation.co.uk
SUBJECT: Mexico

Ladies,

I am exclusively inviting you and your teams to tender for a new Mexico Season I am thinking about for January08 (when it is really grey and depressing and people need to be cheered up).

I am keen to hear about your 3 F's (Fun Fabulous Fluffy) programme formats that are light, shouty, revelatory and sunny - so no 'favela slum makeover' shows please (!!!)

Is there a new hot 'n spicy Jamie Oliver that we can discover and nurture? How should My Channel tackle the world of fashion or art (think the new Frida Kahlo). What could we get Dawn Porter doing? (her take on whether Mexican men make great lovers perhaps?)

What's going on in the world of property prices over in Mexico City??

Although I am keen to explore Mexican society, I would prefer ideas that still reflected contemporary young female Britain. Think "Me & You TV" for the U-21 generation.

The deadline is 1st October.

Look forward to reading your ab fab ideas,

Love
TVC xxxx

Mexico Season Tender

FROM: TVC01@Corporation.co.uk
TO: timothy.hincks@endemolglobal.inc.tv; andrew.oconnor@objectify.com; adam.bullmore@october.com; psommers@tigertiger.com; tim.carter@2020.co.uk; tom_gutteridge@standingtall.tv; remy@amaze!me.tv; mckerrow@lovemeproductions.co.uk; bruce.goodison@feelgood.tv; roy.ackerman@diversity.com; mortimer_d@feverishmedia.com; magnustemple@fireblaze.co.uk; soldinger_m@fireflametv.com
BCC: Fifi01@Corporation.co.uk
SUBJECT: Mexico

Gentlemen,

I am exclusively inviting you and your teams to tender for a new Mexico Season I am thinking about for January08 (when it is really grey and depressing and people need to be cheered up).

Obviously I want to keep the season light, shouty, revelatory and sunny - so no 'peasants dying' films please.

Although I am keen to explore the prism of Mexican cultural life, I would prefer ideas that still reflected contemporary young Britain. Think "Me & You TV" for the U-21 generation.

The deadline is 1st October.

Look forward to reading your insatiable ideas,

TVC

Yo, big up to the TV massive!!!

"Welcome back TVC. I know it's last minute but shouldn't you be at the MOBO awards tonight to keep an eye on your channel's prestigious coverage?" Fifi said as a welcome greeting yesterday.

Fuck me, please no....

Not an evening of swaying to headache-inducing 'rhymes' and aggressive 'gangsta beatz' with all the other white Kidz.

What had I done to deserve such torture?

"Karl Warner is going, perhaps you two could use the time to Blue Sky upload about how we can attract more Me TV viewers."

Aha! An opportunity to show the little squirt who was Boss Man around here.

I called Anthony into my office, told him to drop everything and nip out to Oxford St to find me a suitably hip wardrobe for the evening that would impress the fuck out Karl Warner.

He winked at me, "Leave it to me boss, I'll pimp you up" (whatever this meant)

Three hours later, with bags under my eyes the size of Sky satellite dishes, I stumbled to the O2 Stadium in my new streetsmart gear.

I must admit, I thought I looked cool-as-fuck.

The music was deafening. I spent the evening on the exclusive Youth Channel table, sipping on half a glass of champagne and making small talk with Frank fucking Bruno.

Anthony told me that I should use this 'street sign' when saying hello to anyone black:



Everything was going well until I flashed the hello greeting to Lethal Bizzle - and he flipped out, stormed over, getting 'in my face' (as the kids call it, I believe) asking me "who the fuck" did my "whitey corporate ass" think it was?

I told him to calm down and flashed my Corporation ID badge but he just laughed and called me a "bitch muthafucka".

How rude.

That's the problem with this generation - no fucking respect for their elders!

Still, despite this little hiccup, the evening was a huge success. I thought Shaggy and Jamelia held the whole event together exceptionally well (maybe worth adding to the shortlist to front My New Friday Night Live show?)

It's also given me a cracking new idea.... seeing all the white kids 'shaking their booty' (Karl taught me this phrase tonight, do you like it?) made me realise that I should launch a new 'TOBO Awards' for 2008.

We'll get a famous black person (I'm thinking Moira Stewart and the football player Rio Ferdinand as a combo maybe?) to present the first ever TV Of Black Origin award ceremony.

Not only can I bump up my 12.5% diversity quota but it will score me HUGE brownie points with Fifi and send a noisy message to my Corporation rivals: I will not be moved.

Yeah!! I fucking love my job!! It's great being back.

My flight home from hell

You have got to be fucking kidding me?!

I rocked up at the airport to find the BA flight that Anthony had assured me would pick up from Cancun and fly directly back to LHR was in fact this:



His catastrophic flight bookings have probably cost the Corporation at least half a day of My Time (due to having to get over the jet lag, not having a 'rest spa' awaiting me at Heathrow, screaming fucking kids and goats sat RIGHT BEHIND ME.)

Check-in at Cancun was a nightmare. Queues as long as Elaine Bedell's latest expense account. Managed to get an aisle seat, but this mattered little once on board and the fucking SCREAMING KIDS STARTED.

I complained to the dumb short-sleeved-wearing air steward and stated that I was The Youngest Channel Controller in British Television History in the expectation that he would immediately upgrade me to Business.

But he just shrugged his unmanly shoulders and waltzed off, probably to stick a fucking pram in the overhead cabin.

The nightmare continued once we had taken off. The fucking children behind me carried on their crying and screaming, whilst I tried in vein to raise the volume on my iPod. But fuck all. Those expensive headphones couldn't block out the irritant noise.

Only 45 minutes into the 10 hour flight, I felt like kicking the window in. I really did. (Time I did a show about sensible, cleaver people "doing" air rage I think). Was in no mood to put up with the rude tourists returning back to England having spent their two weeks of sun in some secluded 3* all-inclusive resort eating western European food with the occasional taco thrown in and listening to La Bamba every night in the basement disco.

Finally landed, crawled through passport control and stood outside Terminal 4 looking for my car.

I waited.

And I waited.

And then I fucking waited some more.

2 minutes wasted.

Got the fucking BlackBerry out and emailed Anthony.

"Where the fuck is my fucking car to take me fucking home, you cock?"
Sent from my BlackBerry® wireless device

I got no reply, and ended up jumping in a black cab that cost £43.75.

Someone's got a P-fucking-45 waiting on their desk tomorrow morning!

My boredom is killing me

Bored

Bored

Bored

Bored

Bored

Bored

Sigh

And über paranoid that I'm missing lots of important things back in the office...

I can't stand being so detached from the exciting hubub of the 21st century media coalface.

Texted Anthony:

"Has That Kid started work today? Do not fucking let him out of your sight. I want to know who he speaks to, what he does, and how he gets on. Hourly updates, cock, and I might bring you back a bottle of Tequila. TVC"

Thank fuck I'm going home tomorrow.

Me, Gerry and his Missing Daughter

Hola.

I have a difficult decision to make.

I've picked up an email on my BlackBerry from Danny Fenton at Zig Zag who wants an immediate answer to whether I'll commission a fast-turnaround film from him on this whole Madeleine McCann thing. I have already turned down Michaela's take on this messy affair which was tonally wrong for me, but Fenton claims to have a "killer 'in'"( Hmmm, unfortunate turn of phrase) to the whole story and promises a "definitive, exclusive and uniquely authored investigation into whether the parents killed Maddie".

Apparently, he has one of his Execs Jes Wilkins embedded with the GP parents, and reckons his testimony holds the key to whether or not the parents get prosecuted.

"We have some cracking handicam footage TVC, especially of Gerry and Jes playing tennis together. My boy got his girlfriend Brigid to film it. Terrific revelations!"

This is a typical dilemma for me: good idea from the wrong producer.

Can someone like Fenton (and his football hooligan reputation) pull off a film of this magnitude? He's hardly known for his current affairs credentials is he?!

And who the fuck is Jes Wilkins anyhow?!

Plus, according to the Mexican press, the News of the Screws have already got hold of the story, so I don't feel it is that "exclusive" enough for me.

I'm not stupid. I know what Danny Fenton's gameplan is here. He would snatch a Channel 4 or BBC1 (or even ITV) commission in a heartbeat, so why the fuck is he fishing in my digital domain?

I'm not going to be drawn into a bidding war for this project. I immediately email Fenton back and say:

"Hi Danny.

Thanks for this.

Obviously I'm interested but I will need to know an awful lot more before I can give you a proper response. I imagine Legal & Compliance at the Corporation will need to be across this too. I'm currently away, but will get back to you properly first thing next week.

TVC
Sent from my BlackBerry® wireless device

I'm sure that will suffice for a couple of days whilst I finish topping up my tan.

My new format to save the world

Each time I step outside of the hotel compound this little fucker keeps bothering me for presents, food, cigarettes (I don't smoke) and money.

But why am I so cynical and hostile all the time? Here I am, a privileged, rich westerner - who could afford to feed him and his family for a year on a single week's wages - and yet I don't want to give him a penny.

If there's one thing I've learn't on my trip is that we really need to engage more with the economically deprived.

I am going to get that sob-umentary BAFTA winning director Brian Hill to work up "Save a Street Urchin" (BUT NO FUCKING SINGING!!) as soon as I get back to London.

I might also get that one man band-outfit Renegade to have Nicky Taylor do a special Mexican one-off called How F**king Poor Can I Get? where she has to beg a peasant family to take her in and spend a month trying to live below the Mexican poverty line eating ants, brushing her teeth in her own urine, etc just to ram home the shocking existence these happy-go-lucky folk face each day.

I think it is good that I have been moved in this way to commission programmes as a result of my week away. No different to the period when Jane Root (bless her soccer mom status now!) wanted loads of shows about home improvement because she and her hubby were doing up their house.

At least My programmes have a much bigger and altogether higher social purpose!

My food poisoning hell

Maria and her younger sister Tozi (who also works at the hotel as a chambermaid) have been at my side all evening. I have been unable to leave the confines of my bathroom. I have never, ever felt as rough as this before.

It all started at lunchtime. I had my favourite queso añejo and jalapeno enchilada with a glass of iced cherry cola at the poolside bar and 20 minutes later I was doubled up, bent over the side of the swimming pool.

(I am told by the hotel management that it took them 4 hours to clean and re-chlorinate the water afterwards.)

The next thing I knew I was in my room, on my knees, dizzy and totally out of it.

I still feel spaced out and light-headed. Think I'm having crazy dreams. Can't be certain but I think Maria has been asking me for "Two hundred American dollars please boss" for the past half an hour.

I cannot even focus. I think I've lost my glasses.

Squinting, is that Tozi I can see rummaging through my expensive leather wallet?

I am not feeling good at all. My t-shirt is still sick-stained. The smell is unbelievable.

Oh Christ, please, when will this hell come to an end??

Guess who's checked in??

Relaxing at breakfast and who should I see sauntering through the lobby in terrible 1980s dayglow yellow swimming trunks?

Dave fucking laughing boy Liddiment!


What the hell is he doing in such an impossibly trendy Hip Hotel destination as this??

I hid behind my copy of the New Yorker, and hoped to hell he didn't see me...

My sexy waitress Maria

This is a picture of Maria - one of the waitresses who works in my hotel - taken on my shithot postage stamp size 3G Sony Ericsson K950i.

She has been taking good care of me ever since I arrived and speaks perfect English. This morning as I was sat by the pool she noticed that I was reading some hardcore literature and whispered in my ear (as she poured me a glass of ice-cold cherry cola with such poise and elegance) "What are you doing later?".

Fuck.

I froze. This kind of thing has never happened to me before. I pretended not to have heard her, and tried to carry on with my Proust.

"If you wish, you may meet me later by the tennis courts. 3pm."

I looked up, threw her a faint smile and burrowed my head back in my book, before realising I had a sudden urge to take a long, ice-cold dip in the pool.

She's way out of my league

My new best friend Dave

Meet 'Sombrero Dave' (as I've nicknamed him), an American investment banker from Massachusetts. He has lots of spare cash and wants to invest in British 'New Media'.

[He was involved in NBC's $350million deal to buy Sparrowhawk Media!!]

I have hooked him up with Hincksy's email address.

'Sombrero Dave' is quite a character and oozes charm (especially when the ladies are around). He was particularly impressed by the kind of annual budget I have to play around with and has been sharing his observations on media with me over late-night Grand Margaritas (although obviously I've been sticking to cherry colas).

It is so fresh to hear ideas from people who don't work in television - and who are successful in their own right in their own country.

Don't tell anyone, but when I grow up, I'd quite like to be like Sombrero Dave.

My beach

Whilst dozing on My Beach this afternoon, I started thinking about who I want to host my exciting, fresh, spunky, spiky Friday night entertainment show.

So excited... I remember the glory days of Yoof Entertainment in the early 90s (when I was revising for my GCSEs) and my chums used to rush into school on a Monday morning gushing about The Word!

Here's my top 10 so far:

1. Fearne Cotton
2. Stephen Gately (the schedulers have told me we need a gay presence - according to the focus groups there are lots of young under-18 Pink Viewers who stay in on a Friday night to avoid getting beaten up in their provincial home towns)
3. Reggie Yates or someone else black from So Solid Crew
4. Dawn Porter (to do the obligatory OBs as a roving reporter)
5. Konnie Huq (her agent tells me she wants to 'go more adult')
6. Dave Brown from The Mighty Boosh
7. Kelly Osbourne (yo-yo dieters are 'in' right now)
8. Jamie T (he could rap the theme tune live each week)
9. Miss Dynamite
10. The girl who plays Stacey in Gavin and Stacey
11. And not forgetting Lauren Laverne - of course! (she ticks all the regional phwoar factor boxes)

That is some itchy as fuck line-up, even by my standards! And it certainly reflects the geological make-up of young faces My Channel works really hard to represent.

Or.....thinking totally outside of the box I could be REALLY bold and hire two nobodys who aren't yet famous.

Perhaps make it the first X-Factor-style Find A Face For The Youth Channel event with live auditions and SMS text voting?

Wow!!

I love the freedom I have to do proper blue-sky thinking now I'm away from my desk (seeing a proper blue sky helps a lot too).

My bedroom

Hola! This is my room in Mexico. Very fucking cool. Daisy G's hotel recommendation is totally spot on (as always). I feel right at home here. And inspired too.

F*ck the Planet

TO: Peter.Barron@Corporation.co.uk
FROM:TVC01@Corporation.co.uk
BCC: Mark Thompson
DATE: Thu, 6 Sep 2007 11:34:31 +0100
SUBJECT: Planet Relief furore

Peter, absolutely the right line to take. Well done. If Gordon Brown cannot save the planet then how on earth are we supposed to? Chat more about spiky current affairs for Da Kids when I get back.
Warm Regards,
TVC
Sent from my BlackBerry® wireless device

TO: Fifi01@Corporation.co.uk
FROM:TVC01@Corporation.co.uk
DATE: Thu, 6 Sep 2007 11:38:11 +0100
SUBJECT: Hole in the schedule

FYI - I've consulted with the Board of Young Public Trust and the data indicates that My Viewers are looking for more environment based programming (sensitively handled - of course!) Can I talk to you about this ASAP when I get back from my holiday?
TVC
Sent from my BlackBerry® wireless device

TO: Hincksy@Endemol.co.uk
FROM:TVC01@Corporation.co.uk
DATE: Thu, 6 Sep 2007 11:41:14 +0100
SUBJECT: Weather Porn

Hincksy,
On the plane writing last minute emails from row 32 of my fuel spewing Jumbo Jet. Can you get your lackies to work up Weather Porn Night for me A.S.A-fucking-P? Let's stick 2 fingers up to the global warming deniers and show the fuckers what a hurricane can really do!
I'll be back in a week,
TVC
Sent from my BlackBerry® wireless device

TO: personalassistant01@Corporation.co.uk
FROM:TVC01@Corporation.co.uk
DATE: Thu, 6 Sep 2007 11:44:20 +0100
SUBJECT: Delay

Anthony,
Why the fuck hasn't the plane taken off yet? We're 10 minutes late. Get BA Customer services on the phone NOW! I want free air miles credited to me. Sort it.
Oh, and 'World Traveller' is actually fucking Economy you prick.
TVC
Sent from my BlackBerry® wireless device

Fifi tells me to take a holiday

I'm not a happy bunny today.

Fifi called me into her study first thing and suggested that having taken Edinburgh by storm I should pencil a few weeks break in full preparation for the Autumn push.

She said that I was the only top-level executive on the 6th floor not to have taken full advantage of the handsome 45 days annual leave package, and that I would really benefit from "a recharge somewhere hot"

I hate holidays.

I haven't taken a proper holiday for years. Not because I haven't had the time, but because I don't actually like them. I can't stand being away from my work. I hate being out of the loop, not privy to what's going on with MY PROGRAMMES on MY CHANNELS.

And I get very, very bored if I'm not dealing with critical broadcasting issues.

Must say that my initial reaction was one of total suspicion. Why all of a sudden does she want to bustle me out of the building, just as I am getting totally stuck into the job?? Was I not meshing properly with the ecology of the Corporation corporate dynamic?

To make matters even worse I have NO IDEA where is hot and funky right now (Fifi wants me on a plane out of Heathrow by noon tomorrow).

Luckily Daisy G texted me to say that Playa del Carmen in Mexico was the place to go, and suggested a hot hotel that Wallpaper* covered last month. I must say it looks very funky, urban, yet by the sea...

Exactly the kind of place that someone like me should be seen holidaying in.

Why I hate small indies

Everywhere I went last week at Edinburgh I seemed to be dogged by earnest and naive 'regional' indies bosses.

Final straw today: being pitched (via email) an observational series looking at "...the tough times the Riverboat Authority has in keeping sober the thousands of canal-boat tourists that flood(!) to the West Midlands each summer..." by some fucking jumped-up lackies in Birmingham.

Contacted IT to try and block emails from outside the M25 (Surely this is a simple thing to do??).

Goodbye Moonbeam Films, Whizzkid Entertainment, Framework Television and PhartMedia.

Wake up kids, you are NEVER going to get on to My Channel. Ever.

I'm being cruel to be kind.

Because there is no fucking point to you. Not only do you waste MY time with your half-baked, poxy, regional ideas, you're really wasting your own time (and money I would have thought).

Don't get me wrong. I am always ready to listen to people like Mentorn Oxford, or RDF West. They have a track record. And a reputation. But some young unheard-of 'yocal' upstarts from the provinces?! Come on. I have a successful channel to run.

Try the fucking Community Channel, Teachers TV or failing that the highly annoying little twerp at ITV2.

Buzzspotting

Karl Warner beware!

I am going to start a brand new focus group with a difference - none of them will be familiar with UK television. In fact, none of them will have ever have watched the Youth Channel before.

Tina has promised me that for a bargain sum (under £55k) I can have my pick of her 'Buzzspotting' team who will fly across the Atlantic to "start gathering bluesky intelligence on the British youth scene" for me.

(for an extra insurance premium of £10k The Buzzspotters will even spend a few days hanging out in Camden)

Can you imagine the valuable data we will get from a bunch of sixteen year-old Americans who've never seen Sex...with Mum & Dad or Freaky Eaters before?

Who are not familiar with our love of social-realism and gritty northern cop dramas? Or the edgy comedy (Two Pints Of Lager And A Packet Of Crisps) and breaking new subversive talent like Live! Girls! Present Dogtown which prove us Brits are still way ahead when it comes to creating much-loved and long-running comedy institutions.

Who know who "that Simon Cowell guy" is (but have never heard of Simon Mayo).

Tina has promised me a '10 Point Plan to Target the Youth' which I can easily translate into several must-see itchy as fuck entertainment formats.

I will be the envy of everyone in the Corporation!!

(And maybe Andrea Wong might even start returning my calls...)