Question: What happened to your minute-by-minute diary of the upfronts?
Answer: You're thinking of the Press Tour Diaries. That's in July. But had I blogged Fox's upfront on Thursday, it probably would've looked something like this:
4:00 pm: Could this East Side venue be more out of the way?
4:15 pm: Or crowded?
4:20 pm: Or hot?
4:35 pm: Someone kill me.
4:40 pm: Brad Garrett calls Paula Abdul crazy and Ryan Seacrest gay.
4:50 pm: Make it stop.
5:05 pm: I want to die. Now.
5:15 pm: Am I in hell?
5:17 pm: Sports executives make terrible comedians.
5:25 pm: Maybe the roof will collapse and we can all go home.
5:26 pm: Wow, Spike Feresten is not funny.
5:45 pm: Look! The ad executive behind me is putting a plastic bag over his head!
5:50 pm: Oooh, a marching band that I can't see or hear!
5:58 pm: Did they seriously fly Randy, Paula and Simon to New York to critique Peter Ligouri's tie?
6:10 pm: I think I'm having a stroke.
6:11 pm: Must. Leave. Now. Before. I. Kill. Someone.
6:12 pm: An American Idol montage starts and I make a mad dash for the exit, trampling dozens of ad execs along the way.
6:13 pm: Free at last! God Almighty, free at last!