I would write a show called “Money$kirt”.

It’s the heartbreaking, yet gently encouraging story of a woman named Penny who’s family passes down, from generation to generation, the secret of succeeding in a world dominated by men who couldn’t figure out tights if their lives depended on it.

I’d write the hell out of that show. I’d watch the hell out of that show. And I would watch it knowing that it was a tongue in cheek nod to the current sociopoltical conversation surrounding women and what it means to succeed in the world. And yet, when delivered by a fictional president of the news division of a major broadcast network without any sense of wrongdoing, it makes me itchy.

Itchy. In the way that isn’t quite mad, but isn’t prepared to let go. Itchy in the way that made a tiny, uncontrollably fast part of my brain stand up and say “HEY.” Itchy in a visceral way that made me react as though I’d be cocooned in the scratchiest blanket in existence. It made me tilt my head, pause, and think for a second about how wonderful the day will be when the critically acclaimed writers of a popular show will write that same line, and know its audience is in on the joke, not the joke itself.

Money$kirt. Coming to HBO Fall 2016.

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