|B. Y. O. M.|
Friday, May 27, 2011
Today I officially founded the Portland Fake Mustache Club. What did YOU do that's so great huh? Oh, really? I guess that is pretty cool. Anyways, if you like drinking beer, goofing off, and wearing fake mustaches, well I have got just the club for you.
Monday, May 23, 2011
Friday, May 20, 2011
I was jazzing around with Bill Corbett on Twitter a few weeks ago, nothing big, just having fun, trying to be funny to a funny guy, that kind of thing. Then he tweets back he's going to block me. Well of COURSE I knew he was joking. I knew he wasn't REALLY serious but jeez, what if he was? So I do what anyone would do, and write a huge kiss-up fan-letter to mail him. And here it is! No response back yet, but that's OK, I wasn't really expecting one, and besides I'd found out even before I mailed it that he hadn't really blocked me. I actually mailed it in, care of the Rifftrax street address in California. I included printouts of these photos, plus photos of my kids. Basically I was shooting for a Cracked article, but in letter form, sort of a printed-out Internet.
My letter to Bill Corbett:
Dear Mr. @BillCorbett,
How are you? May I say you look great, those clothes you are wearing to read this in look fantastic, unless you are naked, in which case, have you been working out? No? Well still, you're doing something right, because you look and smell great.
Before we get any farther, my lawyers advise me there is really no way for you to prove I was or was not wearing pants during our last "hang-out session" on Twitter, and any lawsuits brought on that pretext will prove groundless so really, why ruin a perfectly good friendship? They go on to advise everyone should just "chill the F out" (that is the legal term I believe.)
By now I suppose you know I am referring to the allegedly-pantsless "Imma Block Ur Ass" Twitter incident of some days ago (f.1) wherein you might or might not have actually blocked me on Twitter. I'd like the record state that I, as a father of two boys (f.s 2 and 3) know exactly how it feels to suffer "theme-tune dementia" and was merely trying to help you feel better knowing others in your shoes sympathize with you, only partly due to having to wear your shoes, which may or may not be ill-fitting and/or ill-smelling (especially after a hard day's riffing, am I right) but also because I have felt your pain, I have seen your sights, heard your sounds, smelled the smells, tasted the rainbow™, shot the curl, and I was there, man. Know what I mean? I don't. I went way off-scrip just there.
Being such a giant medium-sized fan (f.4) I cannot over-profess my joy knowing you were only kidding about the Twitter-block, and that everything is "still cool" between us. Had you actually blocked me, I would have been literally heart-rent. (f. 5) Please do not be concerned that, remaining unblocked, I will suddenly flood you with messages or links, and I will certainly not send you any photos of myself pants-less. (Really, I wish you'd stop bringing up the "no-pants" think, though secretly I have to admit I am flattered at your interest.)
In closing just let me say how grateful I am we can still be "best bros 4 lyfe" even if it is just in my fan-fic I scribbled in my diary/dream-journal, and please keep up the fantastic work on Rifftrax.
[signed @crashsuit here]
Included in envelope: