So as I've mentioned to those of you who are my Facebook friends, HBN is winding its way to an extended and possibly indefinite sabbatical. After this, there are five episodes left. But before I left I had to sing the praises of Cracked's editor in chief, Jack O'Brien. I've known Jack for over three years now. He lobbied (really unsucessfully) for this piece to be run in the first issue of the ill-fated Cracked magazine relaunch. In the end, a decision was made to go with half-assed photoshops and de-fanged Spy articles instead. But still, how could I not love Jack for that? Jack understands comedy. He knows how to make suggestions that fall short of directives in the hopes of stoking a creative process. Unfortunately, he does not know how to run a really funny, well done clip on the home page. Actually, that's not true. After reading last week's somewhat functionally illiterate responses to Worst HBN Ever, I think he made the right choice. (Psss! I didn't actually think last week's HBN was the worst ever when I titled it "The Worst Ever"). Anyhoo, back to Jack. Know what else Jack does? Works on the weekend. Like this weekend when the wildly talented Ian Cooper couldn't do the HBN photoshop, Jack and intern Karly both worked to create the needed sight gag. Bless you both. You're doing God's work. Oh, and Jack listens to me bitch. A lot. About a lot of different things. All the time. So this HBN is dedicated to Jack. Or as Dob calls him, "Jack." (What, you think DOB's always on)? And it's fitting because this HBN was Jack's idea, and I even reshot a joke pursuant to his direction. So if you hate it, be sure to message him.
Most rich kids just want to be pop stars.
The Hollywood rumor mill has been playing games with celebrity deaths for at least a century.
It's easy to work the system and win these awards even if you don't deserve them.