When I was in highschool, everyone hated me. I was even served with a restraining notice and have to appear in court next week to explain, among other things, my fashion style (Like I"m the first guy to wear a feathered boa).
I'm not a pervert. I just want to be popular. And not even in real life. Just here, in this quiet corner of the internet. But no one ever comes here. Except you of course. But let's be honest, you're not what I'm looking for.
I want hordes of readers. People who can appreciate me for who I am pretending to be. Thousands who just want a chuckle and don't need to engage in deep debate over things like the debt ceiling, the war in Afghanistan or the chances of Fabio making a comeback.
But how? How can I grace the multitudes with the glory that is me?
I have a Facebook page, a Twitter account, this blog and a "special" room in the cellar with lots of pictures. But none of these things are bringing me the thing I crave most. Blind adoration.
Please, if you are someone or you know somone, follow my blog. Declare your loyalty here. Drag your friends and family here. Read every word in every post with orgasmic anticipation (no, I have no idea what that means).
Make room for me in your life. Talk about me at the office. If you happen to own a Deli, name a sandwhich after me. Embrace the future fad that is me.
All I ask is that you don't send me annoying friend requests, emails to read your blogs or invitations to follow you on Twitter. I'm a very busy man.


Salon.com
Comments