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Ian Williams

Brooklyn, NY


Writer/Director, The Pink House, a college comedy. 1999-present. Oversaw a disastrous production that included insane actors, a broken hand, the hottest two days in North Carolina history, a typhoon that washed away the set, a lightning bolt that nearly killed the art crew, and a lead gaffer who had gone off rage medication and threatened to slug Tessa. Due for wild success July 2005.

Senior Editor, That Internet Job. May 2000 – June 2001. Used one year of life going to meetings. Spent early months proffering hard-wrought ideas for $43 million business; spent later months on Napster downloading songs by The Little River Band. Laid off unceremoniously when it was clear that there would never be a website, and therefore my unique brand of penetrating sarcasm was unnecessary.

Writer, Famous Movie Trailer Company, Hollywood. 1998-2000. Wrote the ads for the worst movies coming down the pike. Deliberately lied about, misrepresented, and gave away the endings to various blockbusters.

Senior Editor, That First Internet Job. 1996-1999. Was part of original editorial team that created now-hugely-successful online city guide. Sold stock at 71 when everyone else was holding for 125; stock now at 19. Editorial integrity of site now replaced by monkeys; legacy ruined.

Contributing Author, 13thGEN Abort, Retry, Ignore, Fail. Concocted half-baked theories about my generation straight out of college and stumbled into a bestseller. Used temporary generational fame to hoodwink tobacco company focus groups into adopting “flannel cigarettes.”


Norfolk Academy, Norfolk, Virginia. Attended deeply-repressed military-style prep school and managed to turn 18 without ever kissing a girl.

University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. Double-major in Music and Psychology, but don’t have my diploma because I still owe them money. Spent most of time in Chapel Hill trying to have intercourse with various Pi Beta Phis.


Good bank shot from 14 feet out; Morse Code at 35 wpm; can name most ’70s AM radio hits in less than a second; deeply biting and unsolicited social commentary; long, self-involved bouts of self-pity coupled with occasional bursts of rage; French.