One of my friends once claimed I lived a sitcom life. At the time I thought it was just commentary on the sort of goofy hi-jinks that tended to happen week by week. But looking at it from another angle, he may have been issuing a prophecy.
See, I'm a deadbeat graduate student prone to cracking bad jokes who likes cartoons and drinking too much, who's moved to England to be with my special lady, a belly-dancing polyglot who works for a major media company. My friends here include the perpetually-slightly-taken aback Londoner, the sassy gal with the northern accent, and the crazy Iranian guy who's always cooking up some new plan or scheme. Also, my next door neighbor is an ancient Chinese lady who speaks without ever using indefinite articles or conjugated verbs, and has repeatedly told me that only thing wrong with the job market here is all the foreigners.
Oh yeah, the old Chinese lady made it a point to tell the American that it was all the foreigners who are ruining the UK job market.
The first season was mostly fish-out-of-water jokes about trying to get acclimated, with lots of cheesy gags about accents and cultural misunderstandings about pants. But for the second season? Well, naturally you need to up the wackiness stakes. Which is why my special lady-friend's sister, the conservation biologist who practices Shorinji Kempo, is moving in with us.
By the way, did I mention they're identical twins? I kid you not, I live with identical twins, I date one, the other practices kicking the crap out of people. Right next door is a crazy old lady who dispenses financial and romantic advice in broken, Charlie Chan English, and I can count on regular calls from my crazy scheming friend can't go a day without breaking in some new idiom he's picked up.
Where's the Burbank kid or Jer-Dogg now that I've finally got a concept to pitch? Forget waiting for a table or being sentenced to be a butler, this is comedy gold, Jerry, it's gold!
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watch out for season five, when, ratings starting to slip, twin sister gets a letter from the lawyer of an old college roommate, telling her that godmother-agreement she drunkenly agreed to one night sophomore year has led us to this! the tragic death under darkly comical circumstances of the ex-roommate, and the arrival of that four-year old girl at the door! knock! knock! (audience: "awwwww")
-ghost writer karla
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