After being asked if he chooses to produce movies that fit well within what has become is “brand” as a filmmaker, in a recent interview with Movies.com, M. Night Shyamalan points out that in the same year he directed The Sixth Sense he wrote Stuart Little, and that he sees his brand falling somewhere in between those. Ok, M. Night! It’s your brand, my man. I bring it up because he goes on to drop a MAJOR GHOSTWRITING BOMB (which he drops seconds after he says he will not drop it):

[Shyamalan:] By the way, I ghost-wrote a movie that same year that would even add to the breadth of it all, but I don’t know if I want to tell you which movie I ghost-wrote. [Laughs]

Movies.com: We’d love to hear about it.

Shyamalan: I ghost-wrote the movie She’s All That. [Laughs]

[Laughs] [Dies] [Explodes] Who the HELL would nominate M. Night Shyamalan? To have been the writer of that movie?! Am I a bet? Am I a FUCKING BET? (That quote I couldn’t really fit into the situation, but I did it with the first quote so perfectly that I think I have a pass.) What a nice little piece of trivia. I hope your upcoming OK Cupid date doesn’t read blogs! Anyway, now that your mind is BLOWN, how is your day going? Or how has it gone? What’s up?

Comments (73)
  1. Whoa. We were just talking about She’s All That in the Can’t Hardly Wait thread. Did NOT see that twist coming! You did it again M. Night!

  2. Maybe he just likes to add “ghost” to things. Maybe he just thinks “ghost writing” is what “writing” is called.

  3. My day has reached a whole new level of ugh. In fact, today is the reason I kept that last emergency Motrin in the bottle at my desk.

  4. No wonder that movie is terrible!

  5. Oh man, I was so tired this morning. Japandroids concert last night with a friend who doesn’t get a free pass much, so we were out pretty late, but it was a pretty great show. That was concert #4 of my six shows in seven nights run, and it’s starting to take a toll. Tonight’s show will be pretty laid back, though, so a chance at recovery.

    But I also got a really great quilt yesterday that my mom made by hand for my birthday which is in a couple days (it’s a milestone), and I just had a couple really old chairs (like 1940s or 1950s old) reupholstered, so my apartment is starting to look like a real adult lives there. I can actually invite people over now!

    • Who are you seeing tonight? I’m going to a Father John Misty show.

      • Christopher Owens, who was the main guy in Girls (the band, not the TV show). I’m pretty sure he’s doing a solo acoustic set. Though we’re supposed to get about a million inches of rain tonight, so I may ditch it. I like Father John Misty.

        • That sounds pretty good. RIP Girls.

        • Oh man, I’ve been on a Girls kick. I only have their latest on vinyl, but man “Forgiveness” is so worn out already!

          Shows are exhausting. All that standing around and nowhere to rest your beer! Get out of here with that! Is this for your Song of the Day blog?

          • No, that’s just for fun. I just go to see whatever bands I like, and because I’m in a venue rich portion of Chicago, most of them are within walking distance. Except tonight’s show.

          • So a quick update: Christopher Owens was wearing a Smith Westerns t-shirt, which didn’t seem like a big deal until I walked out to grab a beer and noticed that the Smith Westerns were standing behind me the whole time. Chatted with them a little after the show, and they seem like nice kids.

          • I love Smith Westerns. How was the CO solo thing? I didn’t expect Josh Tillman of Father John Misty to be such a showman. His constant mugging for the audience grated on me a little bit, and sometimes the band was a little too “Nashville” for its own good, but overall it was a fun show.

          • CO was good, played a lot of Girls songs along with the Lysandre stuff. Pretty shy, though. Not much audience interaction. Place was maybe half full, which was kind of surprising, but between the weather and the hockey game, maybe not so surprising.

            I’ve seen Fr. John Misty on TV and he comes across as quite the ham.

        • I am happy to not be out tonight, the one night this week I’m not. Apparently it’s going to hail.

          Also, I need a nap after Japandroids. It was crowded and smelly (hipsters, don’t wear flannel in summer) and loud. So, very good.

    • H-man are we hockey rivals AND birthday twins? I am intrigued, tell me more fellow monster Gemini…

  6. While riding my bike to work this morning, I passed a homeless guy who was whistling “My Name is Tallulah” from Bugsy Malone!

  7. Thanks for asking, guys! My day was pretty good, though not very eventful. I went to yoga for the first time in a super long time and maybe I won’t be too sore tomorrow. Maybe. Today was the first time in a long time that I’ve caught this right when it was posted and of course that’s when I don’t really have anything to say.
    I hope you are all doing well and that you have a great day and upcoming week!

  8. Today is the last day of my mini-vacation and like the true dummy that I am, I drank a rather large amount of alcohol last night so instead of going to the store and baking like I intended, I have been on my couch watching Gossip Girl and groaning in misery all day.

    But I’m not too hungover to make a Blingee:

    • Today, I was thinking of editing a photo I took. I thought, I wonder if Blingee has an app, I would Blingee everything! They don’t have an app guys… Sad day.

  9. Oh man, I’m very tired today for no apparent reason, and I’m on vacation all next week so every second that I spend at work and not on vacation, my soul dies a little. Also my brain is in vacation mode but my workplace isn’t so everyone keeps asking me to do my job and all I want to do is nooooothiiiiiiing.

  10. Today I started off super tired because Pride was this weekend and I didn’t get much sleep and still haven’t caught up. But then my Starbucks guy told me that I looked extra lovely today, so that made my day like a billion times better. Yay for external validation lifting one’s self-esteem! Jezebel is totally judging me right now.

    • Did you see how Louis and Zayn were SMOKING POT on a yacht? The scandal!!!!

      • I did! Mostly I was just jealous that they are chilling on a $2.5 million yacht and I am not. Ugh, why am I not a multi-kajillionaire?

    • Jezebel needs to CHILL with that garbage. Compliments are always nice! I like to occasionally compliment people on how they’re lookin’, and usually it’s someone that I only know somewhat or not at all. It just makes people feel nice inside, especially when you don’t follow those compliments by trying to have sex with them.

  11. She was all that the whole time.

  12. My day has been ok, even though my work computer is ancient and slow and the only web browser it will run is IE. I just want to be able to have my email AND a word doc open. Is that too much to ask? I got my fall schedule sorted, so I know when I’ll be learning and when I’ll be teaching.

    I’m also in agreement with everyone else who is super tired for no specific reason.

    • Why is everyone so tired? What is HAPPENING?

      • Wednesdays are difficult, apparently.

        • This made me very anxious because I 1) thought I’d caught this post on the day it was posted for once (obviously I don’t know the date ever) and 2) Given #1, I then thought it was still wednesday and I was SO SAD for being one day less done with this week!

          Hooray for Thursday!

      • I’m tired too. The whole time I was reading this thread I was thinking, “I need to post that I’m tired.”

        I’m pretty sure I’m tired because yesterday was my first run since May 1 I believe. If you go May 2 – June 10 without exercise but lots of pancakes, a slow 3k will wreck you. Also I had an elaborate dream about a videogum meetup. No joke. We rented a giant banquet hall on an island and possibly it was haunted and every table had a massive edible centerpiece that showed the day’s news in frosting. A mic was passed around during dinner and everyone had to speak. I did 7 minutes of standup riffing on the news and when I woke up I was super proud of myself because I killed. I didn’t write down the jokes though because I thought, “That was awesome. And I remember every line of it clearly!”

        Five minutes later I remembered nothing except a crack about how a horse who was in the news looked mean. “Normally I’d say why the long face, but Jesus Christ!” [laughter] “That’s not a horse, that’s a badger!” [pandemonium] I love dreams.

        • Facetaquito had his first dream last night! Or at least, the first dream that he actually told us about! He dreamed that his uncle was tickling him! I’m super happy about this, but I hope the kid gets better dreams soon, if he wants to keep my interest.

        • Good dream! But now I am thinking of what I would say during my turn at the Dream Meeting. Probably something about One Direction. :( Your horse joke is way better.

        • Ugh, that’s what I hate about the 24-hour news cycle. It’s all nonstop scandals and nip slips and minute-by-minute weather updates, but we miss out on the good stuff, you know? The good stuff like mean-looking horses.

  13. I’m tired, too, guys! It’s the defining quality of my day, aside from the fact that my neck hurts so I have to turn my whole body to look at anyone. The IT guy keeps pretending he has to tell me something because he thinks my suffering is funny.

  14. Spent my whole life falling asleep whenever people talked about stocks and stuff. Realized today that I need to start investing ASAP after a friend posted an article on investing on Facebork. So now I’m on ETrade’s website trying to learn definitions for words I only pretended to know in the past. P.S. I’m only looking at ETrade because Pete Holmes voices the baby. Please let me know if there are better services out there.

    • So Mr. Dork is learning how to do all this professionally, and to be fair, I don’t understand half of what he’s talking about, but I from what I can see, it’s worth it to actually deal with someone who invests for a living. If you have a 401k/IRA retirement fund thing, talk to whoever administrates it (Fidelity, TIAA Cref, etc). Those people know the ends and outs better than you ever will, mostly (again, from what I can glean) because the market is designed to keep regular people out of it.

    • I am SO bad at basically anything to do with financing, but investing is the worst of it for me. As far as I can tell, people put money somewhere, and if they’re smart or lucky or both, it becomes more money. I just do not understand all the in-between stuff. I passed by intro to business financing class, but only because I took it online and found some kickass financial calculators to help me cheat.

    • We were not very financially savvy until he took this job last year. Now I have a savings account and a retirement account with active stock options. I don’t know what all those things mean, but I am excited about it!

  15. My dear friends, I am worn to the bone and I fear that I made a fool of myself today as a result. It is simply too much to describe. But I shall attempt to impart, at the very least, the barest skeletal essence of my recent travails.

    It has been my intent for many weeks now to introduce myself to a certain James McAvoy who, as I believe you are all aware, shares my likeness to an uncanny degree. You need not be familiar with my reasons for deciding upon this course of action to understand my present tale so with your kind permission I shall postpone their explanation.

    In hindsight, perhaps my method for crossing the Atlantic Sea to reach the island Mr. McAvoy calls home was neither the easiest nor the simplest, but it was the first that sprang to mind. To stow away on a boat! But stowaways are almost unanimously undone by their need for food and their reluctance to live in their own dirt. How to circumvent these potential hazards? By transforming to stone! And so, in a twinkling… but no. It did not happen in a twinkling. It was only after many false starts and many bothersome twinklings that I managed to ensconce myself in the hold of an ocean-going vessel, where I turned myself to stone to await my arrival in the fogbound kingdom of England, secure in the knowledge that what would be a voyage of several weeks for the crew would pass me by, in my stone form, in a twinkling. An actual twinkling this time.

    As luck would have it, I was discovered by one of the sailors and brought above deck. They had no way of knowing that the statue was possessed by an animate spirit, so it would be uncharitable of me to blame them for the inconsideration of their ring-tossing game. But so many rings crashed into my gaping eyes and so few caught on my horns that I must remind myself with regularity that the sailors’ intent was actually the opposite lest I descend into sputtering indignation even now, weeks removed from the nerve-wracking humiliation.

    It is unlikely that any of you have ever been or ever will be on the deck of an ocean-going vessel while turned to stone. Still, the experience is so unpleasant that I feel I would be doing you a disservice if I did not take advantage of this opportunity to caution you against it. The speed at which time passes does you no favours, believe me. The rolling of the ship and the accelerated undulation of the waves are nauseating even from a purely aesthetic point of view. The absence of any stable point of reference unsettles even a petrified stomach.

    We did not encounter any Sea Serpents during our voyage. In Narnia a cask of wine would have been broken and several merry jigs danced but here in Spare Oom the event was accepted by the crew without surprise or comment. I’m astounded to find myself saying this, but I miss even the Sea Serpents.

    I attempted to share my whereabouts and goings-on with you, my ethereal friends, but the ship’s schedule and my prominent position on its deck made unstoning myself without being seen quite tricky. The most I could do was fumble at my ifony (I choose to spell it phonetically; ifony has a lilting, musical quality to my eyes, while the lower-case i in iPhone reeks of an egregiously transparent false modesty) with fingers composed half of stone and half of flesh, issuing cryptic communications which I hope did not cause any consternation or worry, as that was the opposite of my intent. We are all playing the ring-tossing game to the best of our abilities, it seems, and the results rarely match our ideations.

    Upon my arrival in the Land of the Engs, I learned that Mr. McAvoy was filming a cinematic in Montreal, on the continent I had so recently departed. I’m ashamed to confess that the curses that flew unbidden from my lips made me grateful, for the first time since arriving in Spare Oom, that Aslan could not hear me.

    For the return journey, I refined my techniques and hid myself on an aerial vessel. Please do not think that I was too miserly to pay for passage, although I must admit that I did lack the necessary funds, both ways. Even my ifony is a gift from a generous hostess upon whose hospitality I imposed for a short time… a gift, or a payment… I’m not entirely sure which, to be honest. But I have chosen not to dwell on it as doing so casts an ominous shadow over my disposition.

    Irrelevant! What I mean to say is that even if I were as wealthy as King Lune, it would still be extraordinarily difficult for anyone whose nation of origin is Narnia and whose hooves prove as much to acquire a passport.

    And so my tale reaches the present. I arrived in Montreal yesterday, past sunset, and spent last night racing around Park Dumon Royal, a lovely park in a city that I must say has shown itself to be just as lovely. I would recommend both to anyone, no matter one’s tastes or propensities.

    As I discovered when I briefly destoned in the Kingdom of Eng, one cannot remain stoned without accruing a reservoir of vital energy, much as water builds behind a Beaver dam. However, being stoned is such an effective dam that the stress is not felt until one unstones, at which point the accumulated energy can be overwhelming. If one has remained stoned for a significant length of time, there are simply not enough apertures in the mortal frame through which the energy can vent. In England I avoided the ramifications of this by promptly restoning, but in Montreal I had no choice but to pay Pan his due. One cannot live in stone forever. Or maybe one can, but I am on a quest.

    My nocturnal dashing burned very little of my excess energy so this morning I found myself waiting in line amongst various Professionals, eager to purchase a steaming pot of chamomile tea for immediate consumption in the possibly vain hope that it would convince my legs to stop kicking in random directions. When it was my turn to make a request, I recalled that I do not speak any Fronsay, not a scrap. Rather than attempt to communicate my needs through gestures, or by trusting in the understanding that must exist between any two souls no matter the linguistic channels funneling their thoughts and the consequent splintering into deltas framing an individual’s temperament as its fingers of silt clutch at the Ocean, I chose to fake it.

    The Kaybekua were not amused. It became apparent that they saw me as an Eng wearing a half-goat costume to mock their culture in some way they did not understand, and their confusion only fuelled their anger. Within seconds, the entire café was gathered around me. I resisted my first impulse to attempt more Fo-Fronsay and by closing my mouth off as a potential vent, even more energy was directed into my legs. With a start, I realized that I was not the quivering, nervous wretch I had imagined myself to be. No, I was dancing the traditional Sea Serpents Did Not Eat Us This Time jig (it takes a specific, identifiable form in Narnia but the name is of my own invention) and the Kaybekua were highly amused. Applauding, even!

    Someone tossed a handful of coins and I am certain they meant it as a gift but one of the coins struck me just above my right eye and suddenly I was back on the deck of the ocean-going vessel, on the receiving end of a multitude of poorly tossed rings. I collapsed, weeping. Someone else helped me to my feet and guided me to a chair while I burbled nonsenses concerning the difficulty and likely futility of quests. A further someone brought me a cup of hot tea, as if my dancing had exposed something of my deepest nature and its needs to my audience, and this lone soul had picked up on it. I wiped my tears away to get a clearer look at this last person.

    She was beautiful! Gracious! Entrancing! The slope of her nose seemed designed to deliver arrows on runners straight to my heart.

    Then I remembered the only fragment of Fronsay I know. “Voo lay vookoo shay vek mua. Um. Sesua.”

    I did not have the time to measure her reaction, alas, as the owner of the café chose that moment to notice the gouges my dancing hooves had dug into the wooden floor. I wanted to offer to pay for the damage by serving him as a washer of dishes. That would have been the correct course of action. But the thought entered and exited my head almost simultaneously. I have had more than enough washing of dishes for one lifetime.

    So I fled.

    I often worry that I am not equal to the challenges offered by Spare Oom.

    • It would be disingenuous of me to apologize for the length of this communication as if it came as a complete surprise to me. Still, seeing it sprawled out like this has my tongue shaping silent apologies. I assure you that they will remain caged behind the bars of my teeth out of respect for your collective intelligence. All I can ask is that you extend your kind indulgence to a lowly Faun one more time.

      • :) I don’t think there is a jig in Narnia comparable to the happy dance I performed upon seeing your comment. I had thought you missing, and am delighted in your return.

    • Mr. Tumnus, if only you knew the joy your updates bring me. If I were to illustrate via pop culture reference, it would go a little something like

    • Miss specialk and Mrs. Superglue, you have brought a smile to my face after a trying day. More than a smile, a veritable grin! I thank you.

  16. uhh, i also didn’t know that m. night shyamalan wrote stuart little, so today has been doubly mind-blowing.

  17. I had a pretty good day. I really like my (relatively) new job and got to squint very, very hard at some legal copy to determine its accuracy, so that was fun, and I went to my first team meeting, and it was so far from useless that I’m blown away by meetings at jobs past that had no clear reason for existing.

    Also, I’m reading a Joe Hill book and playing Mass Effect 2, so yeah, life? Pretty cool!

  18. My day just took a slight turn for the awesome, when I learned that Kristen Bell called out the dude who played Piz at a television festival last weekend or so, telling him that nobody likes Piz. It’s funny because it’s true! And it makes me love Kristen Bell even more! I just wish she would be in better movies.

  19. Today was good. I started off really really tired, but things soon improved. I bought some nail polish (Indigo with the Flow./i>) and dry drops on sale at Sephora. I also asked for a sample of that Boscia blue mask. I think masks are cool and this one is supposed to moisturize and make your face feel all cool and tingly.

    I noticed that since our summer hours started that everybody at work is really tired and think that it’s the next day (like today felt like Thursday and not Wednesday). Do you guys feel the same way?

    • Yes I have felt like it was later in the week all week and now that it’s Thursday I can’t believe it’s not Friday!

      • Exactly. This summer seems to have a lot of Golden Girls moments:

        Dorothy: I just have to take it one day at a time.
        Rose: Of course you do! If you take them two at a time, you’d be constantly changing your underwear.
        Sophia: Go ahead and say it, “My name is Rose and I’m an idiot.”

  20. I woke up tired and annoyed that I had to leave my dream-world where I was actively falling in love with John Krasinski and he was also falling in love with me and I was learning to play this instrument that was kind of like a pan flute but was more like 4 chopstick-sized flutes tied together and was probably actually 4 Chinese restaurant break-apart chopsticks hollowed out with holes added and tied together, now that I think of it.

    I went to work, where everyone else was very tired, which kind of brought out the petulant child in me, at which point I decided I wouldn’t be tired anymore. It worked for a little while. Coffee compensated for what stubbornness couldn’t handle.

    I’ve been working overtime every night this week and 4 nights of last week and it’s starting to take its toll. I’ve been almost inconsolably cranky for about a week and it’s my husband’s birthday on Friday so I owe it to him to not be an asshole every minute that I’m home. Plus we talked about the present I was going to get him and decided it didn’t make much sense to get that so now I don’t know what to get him! Life and life’s decisions are so difficult it is unfair!

  21. I am going to Aviary tomorrow for the first time. Hurray for super fancy cocktails!

    Tonight I am avoiding the weather and passing out early.

    Also, if any of you have a chance to see Glen Hansard, do so. He played for 2.5 hours Monday night and it was glorious.

    • I don’t know what an Aviary is, but I AM all about some fancy cocktails. What kind of cocktail do you intend to have?

      • Aviary is this ridiculously fancy Chicago cocktail bar. It’s all about the theatrics of cocktail making, so they do weird combos. I’ll most likely have something with bourbon.They even had a special infuser made:

        I usually scoff at overly fancy places, but sometimes it’s nice to pretend. Afterwards I’ll probably get a PBR somewhere to wash the fancy taste out of my mouth.

        • Oh man, I want to be there now. PRO TIP: Go to a Binny’s and pick up a bottle of Arehucas. It’s rum from the Canary Islands, really hard to find in America, but Binny’s has it. It’s very delicious and very smooth, and I have made the 3-hour drive to Chicago to buy a bottle, that is how great it is.

  22. I just ate a gyro and no one was a creep to me at work so p great.

  23. I tried something called “blues dancing” tonight. It was fun but it seemed to me like something that had no structure. It felt like everyone was taking pieces of different dance disciplines and doing whatever moves to whatever songs. And it wasn’t even all blues. Today marked the first time I ever danced to an Aimee Mann song.

  24. I see dead careers.

  25. Oh man guys, I just wrote all about my day and now the post disappeared. Moment of silence for my post please ——
    Anyways the truncated version of what I was saying, today is better than the rest of the week because I’ve had bad stomach aches and a lot of fatigue for awhile, which I can only guess is from stress and or the fact that I’ve eaten mostly vegan for the past two months and I had a BBQ fest over the weekend. Really psyched that the Blackhawks won their first Stanley Cup game, though I admit I fell asleep in double overtime and had to watch the rest this morning (before any SPOILERS) while putting on socks/drinking coffee/combing teeth/brushing face.

    The boyfriend comes into town for a visit on Friday and will be here for birthday weekend festivities-yay! I won’t turn the oldest 20 until Tuesday, but man you guys, I’m almost basically dead by now I think. Yikes, this awkward phase is lasting a long time.

  26. Happy Birthday in advance! What are you planning to do?

    • Thanks in present time!
      Saturday- dashing in and out of the “minis” opening at Tara McPherson’s gallery, then off to see the Gories, then soul dance party late eve/till the break of dawn; Sunday, the Jazz Age Lawn Festival; actual bday hafta work but I get a work breakfast out with the staff and then probably dinner somewhere cute with the man. I can’t wait, get out of my life Thursday!

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