Confessions of an unstable Editor-In-Chief: My 15 minutes of Fame
After my last week's confessions, not sure if I remembered to put them on paper or not though, you were probably sure that I would end up in some mental institution. Some place where they would never let me out again. Sorry to disappoint you, I'm still here. Big as hell, twice as stupid.
I think it would be the best if I started from the beginning. From the place where I left off last week (maybe only in my mind...don't remember). To be more specific: "if you don't have any problems, but you're just one beautiful blond horny bitch with long legs, then actually I am too - let's become pen friends. Do you have a picture and a phone number?" That's the message I posted.
Independent of what you may think of me, I actually did receive two answers! That's good, right? Of course, it's good if people read your column and contact you after that. Of course. Usually, it really is. But how would you like to get an email which consists of 37.5 death threats from different people? You fuckers! Don't you have anything better to do than just waste your time writing useless emails that no one read one way or another? Why should I read something like "I'll take your penis, cut it in half and paint it blue" or "Have you checked your car for bombs recently?" or "Shoot yourself or else" (that 'else' was the 0.5 of 37.5). These threats are totally stupid, a waste of time. Some of them even had spelling mistakes which I - I repeat I had to correct. And the style still sucks. So if you feel that you would like to learn, I'm here to help you. This way you can at least learn how to write death threats. You Idiot.
Another person who answered to my email seemed really horny, exactly like someone who I hoped would contact me - a blond horny bitch with long legs. And not only. She also claimed to own a bee emm dablejuu and have a lot of free time. What could I have against it? Well, yeah, she said she's probably a year or two older than me, but why should that bother me, rather the opposite. Agree? I do. Did I meet her? No. Her email sounded like the dream of my life, it sounded like all my dreams had just come true. At least, it was before I got to the phone number, which was+445729....and some more numbers which I'm not gonna tell you. It was my grandma.
Oh my GOD!!!
Gosh. It took me more than 5 minutes to get over it. ... plus 3 days to recover from the resulting coma. It turned out that my girlfriend had been watching me the whole time and she didn't really like what I was doing with my right hand while reading the beginning of the horny email. So she just hit me with a baseball bat.
My 15 minutes of fame
Now here I am, laying in the hospital bed.But I'm not alone. There's a lot of photographers and journalists from other media ventures (mainly tabloids...though) keeping me company. All wanting to get an interview from me - interview about me, my now ex-girlfriend, her baseball bat and, of course, my grandma. It might sound weird, but I believe that it's my 15 minutes of FAME. And I'm gonna take the most of it. I'll give a press conference right after I have finished with this stupid column.