Catherine O'Hara

Heavy as a head, Matty.

The job is a meat grinder. It makes you stressed and panicked and miserable. One week you're looking your idol in the eye and breaking his heart. And the next week you're writing a blank check for some entitled nipple baby in a beanie. But when it all comes together and you make a good movie, it's good forever.

The job is a meat grinder. It makes you stressed and panicked and miserable. One week you're looking your idol in the eye and breaking his heart. And the next week you're writing a blank check for some entitled nipple baby in a beanie. But when it all comes together and you make a good movie, it's good forever.

The job is a meat grinder. It makes you stressed and panicked and miserable. One week you're looking your idol in the eye and breaking his heart. And the next week you're writing a blank check for some entitled nipple baby in a beanie. But when it all comes together and you make a good movie, it's good forever.

Was it? Oh, no. No, no. It was a 115-minute commercial for Taco Bell. But did his delusion get him up every morning and into that ridiculous futuristic cop uniform? My script is called Chick Mate. It's in your inbox.

Was it? Oh, no. No, no. It was a 115-minute commercial for Taco Bell. But did his delusion get him up every morning and into that ridiculous futuristic cop uniform? My script is called Chick Mate. It's in your inbox.

Was it? Oh, no. No, no. It was a 115-minute commercial for Taco Bell. But did his delusion get him up every morning and into that ridiculous futuristic cop uniform? My script is called Chick Mate. It's in your inbox.