Ever wake up one day, realizing that there’s just way too many things to do and all the time in the world isn’t enough for you to accomplish all of the shit you need to get done? You see, like you, I have been doing a lot of work (it’s pretty much hush-hush stuff, but I think I can tell you that it involves burgers, snorting crushed diatabs, a huge poster of Batman, and long periods of furious, teary-eyed masturbation), and I swear, there’s just no time to get anything done. Also, I realized that this blog of mine is getting a little bit neglected.
Instead of doing the practical thing – you know, shutting this blog down already because a 27-year old guy blogging about boners, Maria Ozawa, and all that mature shit is kind of getting wrong already, I decide to solder on. But I decided to try a different strategy: get a guest blogger.
Unfortunately, my emails to Seth Godin, Guy Kawasaki, and Neil Gaiman went unanswered (in hindsight, threatening to leave a burning pile of dog poo on their porches if they refuse was a little overkill, I suppose) so I needed to find someone to fill in for me, and quick. I was hoping to find a hot and nerdy girl because why the fucking hell not?
But instead, I get… this.
I … I don’t even know if it’s a boy or girl.
Anyway, it was time to orient my new
slave intern on the intricacies of blogging on an established and respected blog such as mine. Afterwards, my blog is never going to run out of content and I can party!
“So, guest blogging for Noisy, Noisy Man is going to be a hard and ardurous task and I want you to be prepared for it. I tried to find five hot and willing women to fellate me as they work on making money for me. Unfortunately, I only have you, Addison. Christ, even your name’s ambiguous. No, you don’t have to give me a blowjob. You can put that dental dam away. Jesus.”
In this picture: nightmares. You’re welcome.
“Blowjob? What the hell are you talking abo-”
“You’re not listening to me, missy. What I’m telling you is that you stick with me, you’ll be as famous and well-respected in the blogosphere as I am.”
“Are… are you serious? I don’t even know what the hell I’m doing here-”
“Enough talking and come here for your celebratory buttrub!”
Do’s and Don’ts
I gave Addison five rules for posting on Noisy, Noisy Man, five rules that she has to follow to the letter so she (he?) can find herself rubbing elbows with the blogging A-List of the Philippines. To be honest, I don’t really follow any rules (hence the rampant proliferation of dick jokes on this site) but, you know, interns, so what the hell.
- Under no circumstances should a dick joke be absent from any post in this site. Just keeping it classy here, folks.
- Women commenters are obliged to email me a boobie pic or they will get banned.
- When writing, you are required to be distracted by pictures of Batman punching people around 90% of the time. This is why this blog gets updated only twice a month or so.
- Under no circumstances should slash fanfiction be allowed on this site.
- Especially Harry Potter slash fanfiction.
12 hours and a drunken haze later, I realized that Addison was missing. How anybody could not notice how my frigging intern – I mean guest blogger – was missing is beyond me. I was positively sure that the picture of Harry and Draco cuddling caused her sudden disappearance until I checked the drafts that she had written:
10:04 PM – So, it’s a fucking awesome party! Ade invited half the people on his Facebook to join us in celebrating his getting someone else (me) to write for him (for free). Nobody arrived, by the way. I already told him that “free booze, roofies, and unprotected anal sex” won’t work, especially on that cute girl on the web he’s been stalking for ages.
10:41 PM – Party’s taking a turn for the worse. Girl just unfriended Ade from her Facebook. He tried to add her back, but it looks like she blocked him. That blood-freezing guttural scream I just heard is just Ade crying his heart out and — oh my lord is he masturbating to horse porn?
11:17 PM – Ade quietly looked at me with those bloodshot eyes of his for a good fifteen minutes and said, matter-of-factly, that he does not want to have “wild, animalistic, primal sex” with me. When I said nothing, he kicked his table and screamed something about reverse psychology being “a crock of shit.”
11:59 PM – Ade locked himself up in his room. He’s missing ten bottles of beer and half a bottle of paint thinner, so I’m assuming he brought that shit in his room.
12:33 AM – That was a loud explosion. Jesus H. Christ, what the hell is happening in there? I’d like to take a look, but the last time he went out for a bathroom break he was muttering something about dead squirrels and mutant hamsters, so I’d rather not know what the hell is going on in there.
02:25 AM – Did… did a girl wearing a squirrel suit just walk out of Ade’s room?
04:39 AM – After his 17th attempt to give me another “celebratory buttrub,” I have had enough and told him to die in a fire.
05:15 AM – Two guys just attempted to douse the house with kerosene. As I chased them off with a machete, they told me that they were just following orders.
07:20 AM – He just ran out of his room, naked, screaming “EMBOTIDOOOO!” for like the fifth time. I have had enough. I am out of here. And Ade, go fuck yourself in the ass, you creepy motherfucker.
After a fruitless phone conversation with a hysterical Addison (try convincing a hyperventilating girl that fucking yourself in the ass is kind of impossible and, well, painful) I am trying accept the fact that I lost a guest blogger. I still have no idea what to do with the huge banner outside my house that says “ADE LIEKS TO SUX COCKS LOL – ADDISON,” and seeing the empty bottle of paint thinner on top of the huge pile of similarly-discarded beer bottles is scaring me. Anybody know the number to poison control?