Message from the Editor — 12/31/2001



I apologize to all my loyal readers (yeah, right) for not updating the web site as I said I would. I have been busy writing a screenplay and doing other worthless things that keep me from being employed and thus being a respectable human being. I have no desire to be respectable. My only real desire in life is to have sex -- and for that you need to be respectable. That's my problem. That's the big catch-22 of my life. I understand why someone would want to fuck in bed, but not fuck or be fucked in the workplace. I don't get it. I mean, what's the point? Why live? It's late at night, too late. And I'm saying things I normally wouldn't. So what the hell? How 'bout it women? I live in Boston. Give a poor guy a break and let me sex it up with you. Now don't get the idea that just because I'm terribly in need of sex I will accept just any woman off the street. You must not be too old. In fact, I draw the line at 150 years of age. You must not need a life support machine in order to stay alive. And men. Sorry. I just swing one way. But you could do me a big service by shooting me, as I assure you, I ain't getting any sex any time soon. Me walk on a very dry, dry oasis.

During my absence my hit count skyrocketed from about 3 or 4 hits a day on the main page to around 40 or 50. One day I got over 70 hits on the main page. I almost quit my day job. Then my hits started plummeting. Today I got 11 hits on the main page, compared to yesterday's 22. All those hits on the main page I was getting really didn't amount to much anyway, because there was only a few people reading the other pages of my web site.

People actually click the Friends of The Fruitcake Outlet link on the main page. Not too many, but it's one of my more popular attractions. I don't know. I mean, I can't understand why one lousy bastard couldn't send me a fucking e-mail saying he'd be interested in doing a link exchange. What the fuck?

I started a new section called Real Assholes.

Also, got my first e-mail from someone. Here it is:

HOW COME YOU SENT ME A MESSAGE THAT SAID THIS WAS A RUSSIAN DATING SERVICE WITH ALOT OF WOMEN?

I never sent any such message to this guy. (Even I know that "alot" ain't a real word.) I wrote the person asking for a copy of the e-mail. They never sent it. Some prick spammer's probably using my e-mail address in the header. Probably sent a million e-mails with it. Maybe it's one of the bastard pornographers I bashed in my article, The Impersonals.

I think I'm going to switch from updating the web site from biweekly to monthly. Just not worth it. Nobody reads the fucking thing.

That be all folks. Last message of the year. O what a fun fucking year ahead. Can't wait...

Dickie Richards, Managing Editor

12/31/2001

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