The Cringe pilot taping is this Saturday, and it couldn’t come a moment sooner. I am excited and exhausted with preparation. Many, many people I love are coming from near and far to be here for it. I imagine the only other way I could manage to get all of these people in the same room would be to die or get married, but since I don’t have the time to do either of those before this weekend, the pilot taping will have to do.
My parents and brother arrive tomorrow morning. My dad sent me an email asking, “Which of these things do I need to bring to New York with me: tie, sport coat, hard-soled shoes, umbrella, black clothing.” I assured him this taping would be as fraternity pledge and beatnik-free as possible, just jeans would be fine, to which my mother replied, “Oh no, don’t tell him that! He only has one pair of jeans and they’re two inches too short! Tell him to wear dress pants. Tell your brother that, too.” Then I asked her what else she wanted to do while she was in town, and she said, “I want us to see the Borat movie, as a family.” Us Browns, we make our own church.