The Fatty Odyssey

Tonight I shall meet with Noah Warren in the When Harry Met Fatty studios (my apartment) and we will watch two romantic comedies and record one episode of our podcast, which shall involve a new cocktail recipe, a dramatic reading of poetry or prose, a summary of the rom-com we've just endured, and many jokes scattered throughout. We have been doing this, at an output rate of one 23 min episode a week, for going on 48 weeks now, or nearly a year.

What have we learned so far?

I ask myself this question quite a bit and, honestly, I have no clue. Rom-coms, by and large, aren't exactly choke full of fresh and startling thought. Hollywood love appears to involve a lot of baking and cooking and precocious children saying the darnedest things. We have learned, for sure, what it feels like as your brain slowly curls up and dies.

Why are we doing this in the first place?

When Harry Met Fatty started out as a funny, whimsical idea and nearly a year later we are, somehow, not sick of it yet. It's fun to watch movies, even bad ones, and crack jokes about it into a microphone. Recording the show itself is a test of endurance, sitting on the couch throughout so much tripe plotting and dialogue is a test of endurance, finding a new perfectly selected cocktail recipe is a test of endurance. Perhaps we are seeking beauty in the form of our own suffering.

Where can this show possibly be headed?

Noah thinks I'll crack first, and he's probably right. But what he doesn't know is that I'll take him, and every rom-com on the planet, with me in spectacular fashion. It might take a few more months, or another year of looking at Katherine Heigel, but so help me this will not end well.

A hahahaha ha!