I Need to Be Famous by Lunch

I am beginning to accept the reality that I am not cut out to be a productive member of society.

Originally, I intended to pay off Wash U a bazillion dollars to make me a lawyer specializing in corporate greed or gay rights or something profitable.  I thought I wanted to help civilians while becoming super successful, graduate law school a smarter lady and make this world a better place.  The more I think about my plan, the more I realize that I just want to sit on my couch in my panties all day.

This is why I need you to make me famous, by next Friday if possible.  Friday is the day I fly south to visit my Grandpa Morris in Boca, and Friday is the day that he will remind me that I quit my job to become a super rich lawyer and then did not.  I quit my job because I am an a-hole.  It's the good ol' recession, I am the only a-hole to quit my job in the year 2010.  My Grandpa pointed that out to me.  My Grandpa thinks I'm an a-hole.  Friday is the day I see him and I am still unemployed, out of school, and I am starting to panic.

I wish I could take it all back but I can't.  You see, the day I quit my job I drank too much whiskey for a creature of my size and told my coworkers how I really felt.  I also told them that I stole a duffle bag full of paper clips and post-its and top secret legal documents.  So you can understand why I can't go back to work.

It doesn't have to be this way.  Instead, I can start a blog and, with your help, become extremely rich and popular.  This way, I can let my Grandpa know that he can tell his friends about his granddaughter, the self-made bazillionare.  First, I will have to buy him a computer and explain the essence of a blog, which will be hard because I'm technologically challenged.  Then I will explain that I started a blog about something, subject unimportant, and that readers of the world joined forces and agreed upon my brilliance.  Long story short Grandpa, I'm a success.

Also, If my blog can become famous and profitable, I might just be saved from the misery of adulthood.   If my blog wins fame and glory, I won't have to shower as often, and I will be able to eat EZ Mac for lunch without those judgmental smirks from coworkers who think I live in a cardboard box, and I could stalk people on Facebook without HR supervision, and, best of all, I could donate my suits to the homeless and lounge around in my panties all day.

I would be awfully grateful if you would follow my blog and create several hundred alter egos on google and have them join my blog.  This would mean a lot to me.  I really hate pants.

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Welcome Note

I had another blog and my boyfriend asked me why I had six followers.

Me: Well, that's easy.  One is my brother and one is me.  I know, I know, I am only subscribed to one blog, which is mine, and that is kind of dorky.  The other four followers are people who want to stay up to date with my indescribable awesomeness.  I am informative you know.

Boyfriend: No, you misunderstood.  I meant to say, why do you have ONLY six followers.

Me: What do you mean? I thought that was a lot?

Boyfriend: (Snicker snicker) No buddy, it's not.  It probably means you should take a hint.  You spend all your time writing, actually, blabbering and whining on about your wretched life and it's not amusing.  If it was, you would have more followers.  Your brother follows your blog because he is terrified of you.

Me: But there are four others! That's officially a club.  I'm going to be famous!

Boyfriend: You should probably focus on going back to law school...

Me: I think you're jealous. You're reviewing engineering diagrams in search of some mystical form of alternative energy to prevent the next apocalypse, but I'm the one helping people.  You have no followers, jerk.

Boyfriend: I don't have a blog and you're acting immature.

Me: Jerk.  I am a blogging professional, you're the amateur.

Boyfriend: I said IMMATURE, and I don't think threatening readers to follow your blog is particularly mature.

Me: (Sniffle sniffle) MAKE ME A SANDWICH!

Boyfriend: You are such a Gremlin.

Folks, I thought six followers was tantamount to accomplishment.  Five, not including myself.  I expected a book-op.  I expected to never go back to work in a suit and planned to lounge around in my panties all day keeping you up to date with important information about my news-worthy feelings.

p.s. I'm sorry for threatening you to follow my blog, it seemed like the right choice at the time.

p.p.s Threats are obviously useless because I still have zero followers and it's been two hours since I started this blog.

p.p.p.s. Maybe I needed a scarier threat, even better, blackmail or bribe.  Hmm..

Anyhow, I decided to start a new blog.  That other blog just wasn't working out for me.  This blog will most certainly contain posts scary similar to those found in blogs that are already super popular and famous.  I won't disclose where I got my ideas from unless the specific information I post really is plagiarized.  It seems like the right thing to do.  Anyhow, welcome!

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