Conan O'Brien

Conan O'Brien's strike diary

There was an eerie calm before the Strike hit, which made its arrival all the more terrifying. The sky darkened and the cruel November winds howled. Hell hath no fury like a Writer denied his appropriate Internet-participation formula. I was tossed about my quarters like a rag doll, gasping for air and struggling against the relentless tide of angry industry chatter. Then all was blackness…

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