London
For the last month there have been excruciating negotiations with an agent over the contracts for our famous (read expensive) actors. The Big Controller specifically wanted us to use an actor she'd liked in the Eighties, so we got him and a Lovely Shiny Girl and shipped them over to a Soho studio to voice the new script for us. Mr Eighties arrived looking crumpled, sweaty and anxious. A few cans of Pepsi Max helped initially but things got steadily worse as lines were fluffed, and tempers frayed. It was a quiet journey home.
The jubremony: headghgh.
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Matt at planetmut had a splendid post about newspaper typos back in 2018,
although “typos” is a wan and inadequate term for what he documents. After
a mino...
5 hours ago
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