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DAY 58
How much can one man endure? Now the heavens themselves are conspiring to destroy me, as a light rain knocks out my DirecTV. I get through watching six hours of video snow by convincing myself I'm watching a director's cut of The Ring.
DAY 60
Today, a shocking discovery: I am not alone! In the guest bedroom, I stumble across a woman who refers to herself as my ''wife.'' She tells a harrowing tale, having survived all this time on just one DVD: Reba: The Complete 4th Season. There is nothing I can do for her, and I slowly back out of the room.
DAY 64
Blasphemy! Horror! The Golden Globes are canceled and the Oscars may be next. I want no part of a world that refuses to congratulate itself. I drag all the now-useless televisions to the center of my room and lash them together to form a crude raft. Soon, global warming will cause the seas to rise and I can float effortlessly out my eighth-floor window. It feels good to finally have a sensible plan...
EDITOR'S NOTE: Here the diary abruptly ends. It was found several weeks later in a lobster trap off the coast of Nova Scotia. Nothing is known of the author's current whereabouts. Rumors persist that he can be seen nightly at 12:35 a.m. EST on NBC, but at press time, those reports are unsubstantiated.
More Conan! See EW.com's Annie Barrett monkeying around at our photo shoot with strike-marooned late-night talk show host/diarist Conan O'Brien
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