December 26, 2006
Part One
So, I'm going to try to be funny, because everyone wants it.
Everybody is telling me that I am funny in person and not just because of the hunchback and uncontrollably sexy eyebrows - they think that I am
"Quick on his feet and uproaringly funny"-- New York Times
"The best thing to come along since the last thing that I reviewed for a publisher that would send an intern to have sex with me"
-- San Francisco Chronicle.
Evidence that I have gathered over the years suggests that people do laugh when I try to make them do so even when I don't remove clothing. I also like writing, especially the click-clack of the keys and the way that my left hand cramps up like I'm in the last week of training for the Sydney Masturbation Olympics (always in Sydney, every four minutes). Given these two data points there is opportunity for synergy, and we all know what synergy gets us: a promotion. So here it goes.
First, lets figure out what to write about. Something that I know about. Something that has comedy potential inherently, like talkative ducks selling insurance for the disabled (man I hope you have seen those commercials - a fucking delight they are) or clowns at a temp agency after a hard night of drinking down at the clown frat at the clown college. Maybe the sentences should be shorter. Maybe that 'fuck' was out of order, a little early for that. Most of my readers will be in a cubicle drinking coffee - not the place for an unexpected second paragraph 'fuck'.
Wait - assuming that I have readers. By definition don't I have at least an infinite number of readers, or at least the same number of readers as the number of times that I reread this given the argument that you change at every moment of your life into a different person. In my case (just reread everything up to the first 'fuck' above) a version that finds all this more and more useless with every moment. What sort of readers do I want? Probably hot ones of the womanly persuasion. Maybe I should get a dictionary or at least a theraurus, I'm getting out of my league pretty quick with all the new words and combinations and such.
Oh, maybe I should write the back cover to my book, "first of many" I'll call it. Holy Shit that is hilarious, I should be able to quit the day job any minute.
Here's a rough draft:
David's work can be found in his wastebasket, fireplace, and at fine retailers around the world.
Pretty good, pretty good.