I talked to my sister the other day and she was all yelling at me and screaming and throwing waffle irons and televisions and poodles and shit* because I haven’t been funny enough of late. And I was like, “Hey! Put down Fi-Fi. Did I not write about my internet lottery winnings? Did I not write about how I punish Austin by making him run around the house with a sheet over his head? Have I not, even in the midst of talking about something typically non-funny, regularly used the phrase, ‘…punch Ashton Kutcher repeatedly in the face?’ ”
She put down the poodle that she was brandishing. She had to agree. My reasoning was sound, and also, she was mistakenly subscribed to the mailing list I use to send out technology tips and sometimes my thoughts about various English puddings.
See, the truth is that I have been funny; it’s just been joined by a fair amount of businessy stuff in the past few months. The reason? Well, “pure funny” is great, and I eventually would like to move into it. The problem is that nobody pays me to do it.
Allow me to go off on a tangent at this point.
Here’s the thing. I’ve mentioned before that I’m a spiritual guy. I believe that all things happen for a reason, that we get what we attract, and that there is an intelligence out there in the universe that is better at Dance Dance Revolution than Lee Iacoca and Wilford Brimley put together. Sometimes I meditate. I believe in Karma, and I feel that we forge our own realities. I believe a lot of things.
Now, what I’m about to say may be a little bit too New Age and woo-woo for some of you, but something has changed in my life recently. I came to a turning point recently when I realized that all major spiritual teachings agree that nothing is more noble in a person’s life than to amass enough hundred dollar bills to make it possible to build a sizable fort. Jesus taught it, Buddha taught it, and whoever that blue Indian guy is with like ten arms taught it. It’s a universal law, and if you don’t abide by it, then when you die, most religions agree that you’ll have to wrestle Deepak Chopra in the Octagon for all eternity.
It’s like those old expressions say: “Money can buy happiness,” and, “Money is the root of all evil, with evil being equal to ‘awesome squared.’ ”
So with this in mind, I downloaded a few well-known photos of Ghandi riding in a Hummer with half-naked groupies and pasted them on my Wall of Inspiration.
“Oh all-knowing Ghandi, who was the majority stockholder of TCBY back in the days of M.C. Hammer’s stupid gigantic parachute pants,” I prayed, “guide me to the source of all unnecessary riches so that I may bathe in liquid gold, but be not burned due to my solid gold fire-retardant suit, made of the most malleable and durable gold which retards beyond the normal scope of retardation, to the point of retarded absurdity, and so that I may use diamonds to clean the grout around my bathtub, and not just shitty diamonds either, like the ones sold by that guy down at the bus station with the lazy eye and the box of Captain Crunch, you know the guy I mean, I think his name’s Hank? With the lupus? By the way, whatever happened to Roy Scheider? Is he still alive? I liked him in Jaws with Richard Dreyfuss, I mean, not that I liked him with Richard Dreyfuss, just that the movie starred both of them and Roy Scheider was pretty good in it, and also that chick got naked at the very beginning before getting eaten? Anyway, help a brother out. Amen.”
See, things happen when you find a way to align your talents with the pursuit of stupid amounts of wealth. And I’m getting there too, having already achieved the status of “somewhat less poor.” I did this by finding a way to be funny while also being something that people would pay for.
That’s the reason for all of the businessy stuff.
Also, by my very nature, I’m kind of all over the place. I asked you all a while back if you thought that I could manage to be the amusing online business guy, and not many people responded so I figured we were good to go. And also, nobody was actually paying attention.
So I ask again… can I be the somewhat entertaining guy who also teaches online technology? Can I be Learn To Be Your Own V.A. Johnny and chronicle my adventures here, on this blog, in between stories about how my college roommates used to electrocute pickles? Can I talk about my kids one day and about chickens the next day and about things like National Get Off Your Ass Month the next day?
Can I, in essence, be totally random, unfocused, and without direction? Can I be freed of all responsibility for linearity and sense?
I mean, this blog is already kind of that. I do shit like talk about how the news sucks and then talk about fighting turkeys. I just don’t know if it “works” in a universal sense. Can I inspire people and make them think I’m deranged?
It’s kind of a mess, I agree. Hell, I don’t know what I’m doing here. Who do you think I am, Ghandi?
* NOTE: “Yelling at me and screaming and throwing waffle irons and poodles and shit” may actually have been one polite email. I can’t remember.