A wise man once said to me, “Son, there’s a lot more to life than what you see right in front of you. You have to explore life as if it were a foreign land, the natives exotic and dangerous, the flora luxurious, the fauna deadly. If you walk through life treating it as some ordinary, humdrum repeating series of tasks and duties, you’re going to miss the magic and wonder of it all. Now if you want to ride the Tilt-O-Whirl, you need to give me four tickets.”
The point I’m trying to make is that inspiration comes from odd places. Places such as my inbox, which accumulates correspondence from people who think there is something to gain by writing me. They are usually wrong. Way wrong. Let’s take a look at our latest correspondence, this one from a young woman named Elisa:
From: Elisa D. (redacted)
Subject: Blogging Contest Invitation
Date: August 27, 2012 10:55:24 AM MST
My name is Elisa (redacted) and I write for a casino blog (redacted). We’re having a blogging contest that awards $2500 to the first price [sic] and the chance to become a featured writer for the brand so we’re sending out invitations to bloggers we personally like (not necessarily casino bloggers, but good, entertaining writers!) and of course, we’d love for you to participate.
Here is more information (link redacted) about the contest, prices, terms for participation, etc. It’s pretty simple and you’re just in time to send in your submission.
We hope you join us for this contest and feel free to pass the word around. In fact, I’m attaching a couple of promotional banners in case you want to publish something to let your readers know about the contest.
All the best,
Elisa D. (redacted)
Wow! $2,500! And I get to advertise for their casino blog! For free! I am so all over this offer…
Subject: Re: Blogging Contest Invitation
Date: August 27, 2012 8:51:31 PM MST
To: Elisa D. (redacted)
I had a process server at the door just now (some nasty business involving me, twenty pounds of gun powder, a sewer, and an entire neighborhood’s toilets being blown five feet in the air), and it has become apparent to me that I am going to need a lot of money and need it very soon. My lawyer informs me that although the law is very clear on my actions, the consequences are very much debatable. The problem is that debating a federal judge is astronomically expensive. If I lived in Mexico, I could have this debate at a greatly reduced rate while the judge’s progeny hung from their ankles above a pit filled with ravenous pigs, but when it comes to jurisprudence North of the border, we are sadly encumbered by the law.
But enough of that madness, let’s get down to brass tacks. I have the perfect essay for you. It is entitled, “What Shall We Do About The Boll Weevils, You And I?” and it runs 142,000 words, give or take. It is a slam-bang story about a man who has his feet surgically removed and replaced with weasels. This, naturally, causes his wife to leave him and he spends his time wandering around the Deep South eating fried okra and discussing his misfortunes with a magical clam. It’s a cross between Forest Gump and My Pretty Pony, and I don’t mind saying that it’s the best thing to happen to the literary scene since Zelda Fitzgerald had her hubby F. Scott forcibly restrained and sodomized with a tuber for writing The Beautiful and Damned.
Where were we? Ah, yes. The contest. I understand that your guidelines require my submission to be at least tangentially related to gambling, so what I propose is a mild rewrite in which the protagonist takes a trip to Las Vegas and is eaten by badgers. This, of course, will force me to alter the ending which currently has Our Hero beating Nikita Kruschev to death with a blender (or possibly a Barcalounger: This is a subject of INTENSE debate in my household). And needless to say, this will start running into some serious money before all is said and done.
So I’m afraid that I am going to have to ask for that $2,500 up front, and also I’m going to need that $2,500 to be a hell of a lot closer to $50,000. My services don’t come cheap, and neither do those toilets.
Dogs on Drugs