Dear Actor-in-his-mid/late twenties-who-will-someday-(hopefully soon)-shit-on-me,
Many people are outraged by Charlie Sheen's referring to his boss as "Chaim Levine."
Me? I am inspired by it.
Chuck Lorre's shoulders shudder under the $250M weight of a television show.
Me? I long for that burden.
Mr. Lorre stings from the verbal acid his star spits in his face.
Me? I ache with anticipation for the moment you first ridicule me on set, online and on E!. (Note: I will rarely give you notes, but this note is to explain that the "E!" in the previous sentence referred to the entertainment news program and not the recreational drug I hope your participation points will pay for.)
I just completed our sitcom pilot. Get this, my liege: it's office based! Television can never have too many of those, am I right?
Know this, your highness: My creative cupboard runneth over with tin cans from which you can spin gold. That is collaboration. And, as the many partners with whom I have written scripts without ever selling anything can attest, I really enjoy the collaborative process.
So, let's get to know, like and, inevitably, loathe each other.
And, please, call me Chaim-y.