Messages From The Imperial Fingrock Splerd
Work has been an absolute ball-cutter this last couple of weeks. During one 34 hour stretch late last week, I calculated that I had worked 29 of them. The only thing keeping anyone going over there is the large quantity of acid I put in the water cooler. This, now that I think of it, may have something to do with some of the issues we’ve been having with quality. Hmmm… Oh, well. Live and learn! Or as a now former coworker would say, “Get-Run-Over-By-A-Train-While-Freaking-Out-On-Acid and learn!”
As you can imagine, this has impacted my productivity somewhat. Usually, I can be counted on to provide at least three posts of very high quality each week. By “each week” I mean, of course, roughly ten days. And by “three” I mean one. And by “high quality” I mean that I took a second or two to ensure that some of the keystrokes registered when I set my drink down on my keyboard were in fact English words. But because of work stress and a sudden addiction to huffing dry cleaner solvents (long story), I failed in this duty to you, my reader. For this I am sorry. Sorry, and still half-buzzed.
The best way to get back on the proverbial horse, I’ve found, is to taunt total strangers. Preferably total strangers named Harley who are just trying to make an honest living but have made the mistake of confusing me with someone capable of having a normal conversation. And as luck would have it, I received an email from one Harley Atkin just today! Joy!
From: Harley Atkin
Subject: Quick query regarding the website dongsondrugs.com
Date: Feburaury 19th, 2014, 5:36 AM
To: GregHi there
I hope you are well.
I’m emailing you today to ask if you accept any guest content for your website dogsondrugs.com.
I have a client that I think would be a great fit for your website. We have a team of content writers who will be able to tailor an article to suit your requirements.
Could you please let me know if you would be interested? I would love to send you some more information about my client and budget.
Kind regards
Harley Atkin
Online Marketing Specialist
(I hesitate to think what sort of client would be a “great fit” for this website? Perhaps Harley represents a cabal of people looking to tar and feather Kenny Loggins for profit?)
From: Greg
Subject: The Importance of Not Letting Your Meat Loaf
Date: February 19th, 2014, 7:35 PM
To: Harley AtkinHarley,
Well, I’ll be honest with you. I’ve set the bar awfully high over here. I’ve found that guest content doesn’t go over particularly well with The Readers. Norman Mailer once guest posted a brilliant 6,000 word allegorical tale on the ravages of age, but he failed to include the requisite number of dick jokes and you know where Norman Mailer is today? In a coffin. Or what’s left of him is anyway. They never found his scalp, one of his kidneys was missing, and his fingertips had been hacked off, one would assume for the purposes of fingerprint forgery. His tongue is also absent from the casket, but it isn’t missing: I nailed it to my front door to ward off evil spirits and Jehovah’s Witnesses.
Another time I figured it’d be fun to have a sexy young actress sit in for me, and so I hired Amanda Bynes to write a post. The Readers hounded her so ferociously that she went insane, and now insists that she is some sort of royalty on Saturn and demands that everyone refer to her as the Imperial Fingrock-Splerd.
And Henry Winkler… Well, Henry Winkler was forced to engage in sexual congress with a badger in front of an audience of horrified Shriners. That was certainly something.
I think it’s safe to say that The Readers are an unstable, bloodthirsty, and borderline psychotic lot, and you trifle with them at your great peril. I will give them this, though: They are a hell of a lot of fun to hang out with. During the First (and Last) Annual Dogs On Drugs Tijuana Vacation, they left a trail of bodies behind them to make Genghis Khan proud. The natives were pulling midgets out of donkeys for months, I’m sure, and we never did find out what happened to Mary Tyler Moore’s valet. Poor bastard.
So before we can proceed, we need to make sure that you have the Right Stuff. Please submit a guest post espousing the merits of frottage. Said post should be exactly 4,231 words long, and for the love of God do NOT use the third person pluperfect subjunctive tense. The Readers fucking HATE that. If you want to wake up to find yourself wearing a codpiece full of rabid wombats, well then have at it. But if not, stay well the fuck away from the third person pluperfect subjunctive. I cannot emphasize this enough.
The resulting post will be run by a panel of heavily sedated Readers, and should they react by slaying less than a dozen vagrants (that I keep in the basement for this very purpose), I will consider the post on its merits as spelled out below:
- Penmanship – 10%
- References to B-list 70’s era sitcom stars – 35%
- Quality of the six kilos of pure, uncut Afghani Black hashish that you agree to have delivered to my door – 55%
I very much look forward to doing business with you, Harley.Greg
Winkler would have had the panache to pull that off.
He stored up a lot in the 70’s.
Wouldn’t that have made for a wonderful TV Guide capsule review?
8:00 PM ABC – Happy Days – The Fonz (Henry Winkler) makes love to a badger in front of a group of horrified Shriners.
Mr. C was a Shriner, and I’m pretty sure that happened.
All readers are hereby instructed to begin spreading the Fonzie/Badger/Shriner rumor without delay.
So that hash gets doled out to The Readers, right?
What’s left of it, sure.
Of course I had to look up “frottage”. And of course that led me to a Wikipedia entry about Fudgie Frottage. You’ve enriched my life beyond words.
I think a great fit for this blog would be Danny Bonaduce.
Not enough tranny hookers here for his taste.
Please stop calling me a vagrant.
Get back in the basement.
I, too, had to look up frottage. That’s not what we called it when I was in high school.
And, “borderline psychotic”? Please. Give credit where credit is due.
I don’t know why everyone had to take Sex Ed in school if they weren’t going to teach about frottage. Why am I the only human being who knows what this word means?
Vesta, help me out here. You knew the word “frottage” before you read it here, right?
(Also, let the record reflect that Vonny is a stone cold psychotic, and not a borderline case.)
Heh, why does it piss you off that some of us had to look up the word? It did not take a lot of effort, and now our vocabularies are expanded.
Jesus.
I was just fucking around. I knew the word, and I still had to look it up to make sure it meant what I thought it meant.