Curse Free Episode #7 - Worthless Professors and Their Background Special!
Is it even possible to pass on wisdom? Motorcycle riding out east. The "professional" background of a liberal arts professor. The barn with the face in 1978.
It might be possible to pass on wisdom - or at least give people clue enough to pick up on it, which is I guess a lot like what you've said really. But when you have things like idiot commenters sperging over the difference between a steer and a bull (at yesterday's Day By Day), completely missing the fact that using the word "steer" for the sign makes it funny, you have to wonder. I'm pretty sure Chris is wondering.
Greg Nikolic here. I am still trying to form my corporation and get you to leave Minnesota and come up here as my VP of Finance.
I realize this sounds far-fetched, but I want you to hold out for hope. I am seriously interested in you, and I feel the pressure that has been building on your for the years of your practical exile, while you grow negative and pessimistic.
I am going to be a well-paid professional writer, and I will bankroll my corporation (QUADELITEDOM) with the money made from those proceeds. Unlike you, I cannot bear to starve myself writing high-intellectual fodder for a select few, and so I will go mainstream instead, making a lot of money and establishing myself as a name-brand novelist. If you read "Greg Nikolic" brand writings, you'll see for yourself how damn good they are. They're meant to be. I put enough time and energy into this endeavor. Imagine your podcasts multiplied by one million. That's what I've done.
If you want to keep in touch with my writings, go to www.eliteavenue.wordpress.com
But . . . just to show you some writing talent, I'll invent a small scene for you, starring you:
It was raining outside, and Aaron Clarey turned away the computer monitor. Facing the glaring light of the room was his article at Return of Kings on how to have a satisfying life. But Clarey's life was anything but cherries and a bed of roses; now he was dealing with a petulant female visitor who just wouldn't go away.
She came in the room, wearing a white towel draped around the neck and nothing else. Her hands clenched the towel's frayed ends tightly. Clarey looked up at her, scowling.
"You can stop using my razors to shave your legs," Clarey snapped. "That's not cool."
"I didn't invite myself here," Alexis said, stepping forward, scissorlike with long tanned legs. "You did."
"That's because I thought I liked you," Clarey shot back.
"Don't you?"
"I did! But you're fucking ruining it all."
Alexis put a hand over her eyes, dropping the towel in the process. The burn marks up and down her arms had healed and the mental hospital had released her on Tuesday, but she still had to go back for sessions with Dr. David Thomson. Aaron had met her in a bar after one of her sessions. It had been impossible to take his eyes off her. Laughing at the bar with the bartender, she had been a vision. Alexis had turned her head in mid-laugh, caught him staring, and she paused, evaluating him. Aaron Clarey had felt his soul peel open and float free . . .
**********
*waves hand dismissively*
Anyway, Aaron, THERE'S the soap opera shit you so blithely dismiss. It's not quite as easy as you make it out to be. I tried for YEARS before I could get this good.
ANYWAY AGAIN, that's the SHIT that's going to get you $750,000 a year working for me as my Vice President of Finance for Quadelitedom Corporation in Toronto. Oh, by the way, I found a painting that represents how I view you. I've seen your videos so I know what you look like, but this is an abstract view. Coupled with it is my choice of your theme song: "Standing Outside A Broken Phone Booth with Money In My Pocket." You can scroll down my www.eliteavenue.wordpress.com to see your picture and song I picked, along with those of Delicious Tacos of Los Angeles (delicioustacos.com) and Heartiste of Washington, D.C. (heartiste.wordpress.com).
*coldly*
I plan on fusing the three of you into a unified Trio -- a working group of immense capability.
Do NOT give up hope. And for fuck's sake, cheer up. Someone out there is looking out for you. He is thinking of you. And he is wishing you VERY WELL.
Have a good day, my Demi-God Cappy. The future awaits us both.
2 comments:
It might be possible to pass on wisdom - or at least give people clue enough to pick up on it, which is I guess a lot like what you've said really. But when you have things like idiot commenters sperging over the difference between a steer and a bull (at yesterday's Day By Day), completely missing the fact that using the word "steer" for the sign makes it funny, you have to wonder. I'm pretty sure Chris is wondering.
Good morning, My Lord Captain Capitalism.
Greg Nikolic here. I am still trying to form my corporation and get you to leave Minnesota and come up here as my VP of Finance.
I realize this sounds far-fetched, but I want you to hold out for hope. I am seriously interested in you, and I feel the pressure that has been building on your for the years of your practical exile, while you grow negative and pessimistic.
I am going to be a well-paid professional writer, and I will bankroll my corporation (QUADELITEDOM) with the money made from those proceeds. Unlike you, I cannot bear to starve myself writing high-intellectual fodder for a select few, and so I will go mainstream instead, making a lot of money and establishing myself as a name-brand novelist. If you read "Greg Nikolic" brand writings, you'll see for yourself how damn good they are. They're meant to be. I put enough time and energy into this endeavor. Imagine your podcasts multiplied by one million. That's what I've done.
If you want to keep in touch with my writings, go to www.eliteavenue.wordpress.com
But . . . just to show you some writing talent, I'll invent a small scene for you, starring you:
It was raining outside, and Aaron Clarey turned away the computer monitor. Facing the glaring light of the room was his article at Return of Kings on how to have a satisfying life. But Clarey's life was anything but cherries and a bed of roses; now he was dealing with a petulant female visitor who just wouldn't go away.
She came in the room, wearing a white towel draped around the neck and nothing else. Her hands clenched the towel's frayed ends tightly. Clarey looked up at her, scowling.
"You can stop using my razors to shave your legs," Clarey snapped. "That's not cool."
"I didn't invite myself here," Alexis said, stepping forward, scissorlike with long tanned legs. "You did."
"That's because I thought I liked you," Clarey shot back.
"Don't you?"
"I did! But you're fucking ruining it all."
Alexis put a hand over her eyes, dropping the towel in the process. The burn marks up and down her arms had healed and the mental hospital had released her on Tuesday, but she still had to go back for sessions with Dr. David Thomson. Aaron had met her in a bar after one of her sessions. It had been impossible to take his eyes off her. Laughing at the bar with the bartender, she had been a vision. Alexis had turned her head in mid-laugh, caught him staring, and she paused, evaluating him. Aaron Clarey had felt his soul peel open and float free . . .
**********
*waves hand dismissively*
Anyway, Aaron, THERE'S the soap opera shit you so blithely dismiss. It's not quite as easy as you make it out to be. I tried for YEARS before I could get this good.
ANYWAY AGAIN, that's the SHIT that's going to get you $750,000 a year working for me as my Vice President of Finance for Quadelitedom Corporation in Toronto. Oh, by the way, I found a painting that represents how I view you. I've seen your videos so I know what you look like, but this is an abstract view. Coupled with it is my choice of your theme song: "Standing Outside A Broken Phone Booth with Money In My Pocket." You can scroll down my www.eliteavenue.wordpress.com to see your picture and song I picked, along with those of Delicious Tacos of Los Angeles (delicioustacos.com) and Heartiste of Washington, D.C. (heartiste.wordpress.com).
*coldly*
I plan on fusing the three of you into a unified Trio -- a working group of immense capability.
Do NOT give up hope. And for fuck's sake, cheer up. Someone out there is looking out for you. He is thinking of you. And he is wishing you VERY WELL.
Have a good day, my Demi-God Cappy. The future awaits us both.
-- Greg Nikolic
www.eliteavenue.wordpres.com
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