Greg Doesn’t Play Well With Others
From time to time, some random person makes the mistake of believing that this site is run by a normal person, someone who doesn’t purchase prank photos from Joyce Dewitt or ask a classic rock band to make him a Rueben sandwich. And I am always more than happy to point out the error they made in such a way as to make them seriously question the line of work they have found themselves in. Take, for instance, poor Derek, who thinks that I may be able to help him out with his client who has a web site about drug and alcohol dependency issues, I’m guessing because he thinks that my readers have those kind of issues themselves. You guys are a bunch of fucking pot-heads, you know that? Anyway, here’s what Derek had to say:
From: Derek (redacted)
Subject: Link Placement Inquiry on Dogs On Drugs
Date: August 4, 2012 12:50 AM
I’m Derek (redacted), and I’m promoting a website about drug and alcohol dependence. I have been searching the Internet for sites we think would be just right for our campaign, and your site has caught our attention. Having said that, I’d like to inquire if you’re open to the idea of an ad placement on this page: http://dogsondrugs.com/2012/03/15/what-would-lindsay-lohan-do/.
Please let me know your thoughts on how this could work for you, or if you already have ad rates in mind. Our budget for this campaign may not be that much, but we’ll do our best to reach an agreement with you that would be fair and appropriate for the both of us.
Thanks for your time.
Bear in mind that the page that Derek would like to link from contains the following phrase: “[…] you’ve got to use classy drugs like cocaine, oxy’s, or (if you’re in a cool rock band) heroin.” Yes sir, if there’s one web site that people go to when they want information about alcohol and drug dependency, it’s clearly this one.
Subject: Re: Link Placement Inquiry on Dogs On Drugs
Date: August 8, 2012 12:01:11 AM
Crispy-fried Jesus in a bucket, Derek, you caught me at the exact right moment for this kind of trip. Did you ever spend an hour or two hiding in the girl’s locker room when you were a kid, waiting and praying for a bit of luck, when all of a sudden: ZANG! The Hottest Girl in School walks in and slowly begins to peel off her top when she hears you emit a low moan and slowly approaches, licking her lips and sauntering over, rolling her hips in That Way until she throws open the door to the utility closet and says to you, “Normally I’m a good girl, but today I’m feeling naughty” and you realize that you were at the right place, at the right time, and never in a million years would a dream like this ever take place again because the odds were so stacked against it? Well, I never did that, and if you’re not a filthy, disgusting pervert, neither did you.
God damn it, Derek, can we be Serious here for a minute and talk about the Business at Hand? I’m in no mood for frivolity, and I’ll be damned if I will sit here while you pour out your sick, twisted fetishes to a complete stranger. We will be Serious, or we will be Done.
Now, what I want to know is what kind of Fiend would want to advertise on my site? I’ve got to assume it’s some random pack of Derelicts & Weirdos, looking to slip one by our impressionable youth and Lead Them Astray. I will not stand for this. At least, I will not stand for this for less than $100 per click, with a cap of $50,000 payable in cash, in a manila envelope. Also, I’ll need an Alpaca. I’m not entirely sure what an Alpaca is, but My Associates assure me that I’ll need one, so we may as well make them happy too, eh? It will not do to upset the Associates.
Speaking of which, My Associates have just informed me that answering emails is a service that I should expect to be paid for. Please give me your billing address so that I may cripple you financially. Or maybe I’ll just bill you a dollar. Life is fickle, and I find it entertaining to be so as well. You spin The Wheel and take Your Chances, hoping that it doesn’t end with blood-thirsty Goons smashing your knees with a ball peen hammer.
Jesus, did I just write that? Disregard that, Derek. If we can’t be brothers on this, then I’d just as soon we not be enemies. Let’s start over.
Do you like parrots?
Dogs on Drugs
That. Was. Awesome.
I really, really hope good ole Derek sends a response.
I doubt it, but I am continually surprised by people who read the bizarre shit I throw their way who respond anyway.
Holy buckets, Derek is the name of The New Guy here at work. I wonder if…. naaaaaaahh!
Yep. That’s him. The fucker.
Huh. I’ve been trying to get a response from Health Canada about pictures on cigarette packs. Perhaps my inquiry was too gentle. Mind if I use your ball peen hammer line?
Go for it. Also, let me know if you need me to act as a representative for your welfare and really freak the fucking shit out of them.
lol! You can be my ‘medical heroin’ advocate.
I just want to know why they think a picture of green alien hands holding a diseased human heart is going to make me quit smoking… mostly it makes me want to buy a shotgun to deal with green aliens who are going to rip my heart out of my chest.
What’s next, pictures of Lindsay Lohan on 8 balls of coke?
Impressive. Can I hire you to reply to the next Fukbook email I receive? It seems to think I’m a lesbian. I will glady pay you $A1. That will net you $1.06.
Vonny, I will do that free of charge. Just forward the email to me and I will go to fucking town on those assholes.
That was AMAZING. 😀 Hope he responds back, haha.
I’m thinking that if he checks this site out before responding, we won’t hear from him.
Did you send him that photo of the parrot bottle stand? Because that is a sure fire way for him to like parrots. I like parrots now.
That is awesome. I hope Derek graces us with his presence again.
Bottle stand? That’s my parrot, Mr. Bonkers!
Bwa ha ha ha. Seriously Derek, you asked for this and I’m proud he handed it out to you. Mary mother of Buddha in a bucket. This made my week.
Now, now, Derek is just trying to make a living. We will forgive him because that is the charitable thing to do. As long as he sends me my fucking Alpaca.