Hi, friends. I've driven across a stretch of CA today, so that's my excuse for a repulsive choice in interview guests. It's also my excuse for typos, weirdness beyond the usual quirkitude found here, and anything else I might need excused from here on out. Phew! Thanks.
I'm combining this post for the IWSG (a wonderful support group founded by none other than Alex J. Cavanaugh
) with a Reality Award that Farawayeyes
gave me last week. The honor involves my answering these questions: If you could change one thing, what would it be? If you could repeat one age, what would it be? What one thing really scares you? If you could be someone else for a day, who would it be?...Gulp. Did I mention I'm tired from driving several hundred miles today? It's now 11:59pm, and I'm detrmined to write and post this within the next 60 seconds, or before I fall asleep.
Ladies and gentlemen, I didn't think it was possible, but I've sunk to a new low, the lowest of lows. You guessed it, Snooki's here. An enraged audience compels Robyn to dodge paper airplanes, hand-grenades and a spray of bullets. Snooki struts onto the stage, wearing dental floss - or perhaps it's a bikini; flip-flops, and big gaudy silver sunglasses. She takes a swig of a Corona, and waves at the two people remaining in the audience (Honey Boo Boo and her mother, June).
: Um, thanks? I mean, thanks, Snook. Thanks for coming. I'm sure you hear that a lot. Thanks for coming, er cum-ming
, that is. Robyn smirks and elbows her playfully
: Well I totally say it more than I hear it. But, yeah whatever.
: If I could change one thing, Snooki, it would be the fact that you earn $150K per episode, yet you lack a functioning braincell or an ethic. Meanwhile, lots of us IWSG members are intelligent and ethical, yet we struggle to achieve a modicum of success. It's not a fair world. I'd make the world fair if I could. But I didn't ask you here to tell you that. I invited you because I'm feeling insecure about being so dang slow. It takes me weeks or months to write a chapter, or even a paragraph sometimes. You're as slow as they get. Tell me, how do you handle being so slow?
: Like people say I'm slow all the times. But I went to collage an I writed two books already. So I ain't not slow like you b*tch!
You have a point. You writed two books. And they say sh*t like "she farted and it stunk." So we're not talking about speed. We're talking quality, or lack thereof.
Maybe I shouldn't worry so much about speed. But what really scares me is that the world is all about the stupid, unscrupulous buffoons like you. And people like you keep breeding. If I could be someone else for a day, I'd be the doctor who delivered your baby, and I'd hand him over to someone who'd set a better example for the next generation. Say, where is your baby, anyway?
: My baby? Oh sh*t! I left him at home alone. She laughs and takes another swig of her beer.
: No worries, he's better off. And if I could repeat one age, it'd be anytime prior to the past 26 years. Before you were born, that is. As a public service, Snooks, I've got a parting gift for you. Robyn turns towards the camera man and tells him to signal the truck drivers to bring 'em over. He nods.
We've got 25 truckloads of condoms for you, hon, to ensure you never breed again. And there's a special education tutor back stage to teach you how to use them. Robyn hands her a cucumber. Snooki looks confused, licks it, and struts off stage.
Robyn looks at the camera
: Thank you for tuning in today. If anything, I hope it gives you hope. We can only hope certain people will stop breeding. We can also only hope that quality will prevail -- that if we stick to what's good and right, and if we write what's good and right, rewards will be forthcoming. Have a good day and keep faith, everyone.