Greetings, readers of The Cheers, creatures of the Earth. Today is the
day when The Cheers found a new, especially creative, fabulous, nice
looking, and extremely sexy.... Writer. A writer,
THE WRITER,
who can actually write. No, no, I'm not suggesting that other writers
can't write... they can, they really can, but... Okay, actually there's
no BUT's, I just figured I should leave a
GREAT impression of myself.
Why? Well... umm, I'm THE EDITOR-IN-CHIEF of this magazine - sorry about that.
Me & myself with myself
Yeah, I know what you want to say: Different media publications are
usually only as good as their head editor is." But I'm sure you can
understand that not always has the magazine the face of its
editor-in-chief. Sometimes, it has the face of its journalists.
Fortunately. Fortunately, I haven't been one of them, until today.
So today, what happened? Nothing. NothinG, with a big G." I have
commitments crawling out from every ear I have. I dont have time for
anything. I am not getting anything done. I have no motivation. I have
no life. I have no interests, currently. And most of the time, I'm not
sure what I'm doing. Usually I'm just staring at the computer screen
and manually refreshing my email window. Usually I do that in every 2
minutes. It keeps me busy. Like I said, I have too many committments
and I can't get them done, not even one of them. Actually I can't even
get started. I just don't have any motivation to do something that
takes intelligence. So... I decided to start this weekly column, My
Farked Up Life. Don't expect much from it. After all, I'm just the
editor of the magazine. I don't have to know how to write, I don't have
to know what to write, I don't have to know when to write or how long
to write. I don't have to know any of it - so get off my back! At least
that's what I keep telling myself.
Others don't agree. They
are always on my back, telling me how to do things. The other night
there was a female journalist in her 90s who taught me how to french
kiss. Fortunately she did that over MSN (you know, the tiny piece of
software that tends to replace L.I.F.E.). Sometimes, journalists just
take over my editorial office, holding a gun in my pants. I'll tell
you, it's far from easy...being an editor-in-chief @ The Cheers.
If that was all, I'd be happy, really happy. However, that's far from
all. I'm the editor-in-chief, but still, no one respects me. The Cheers
is a non-profit venture you know -- one of the greatest ones. It's so
non-profit that even I don't even earn anything. You know what? Life
sucks, big time. So a couple of days ago I decided to make some money,
some serious bucks and take an extra job . I can't think of any cool
names for it, but for you general people, it's just the job as a bank
robber.
9.am, Sunday, 2004. After half a litre of
vodka and having gambled all my money (well, all there was...couple of
pounds and two bananas) on Saturday night, I had a really bad hangover
the next morning. I wasn't the only one. I wasn't the only one in my
room, as I noticed after having opened my aching eyes. There was a
dirty little green monster lying on my floor. I'm still wondering who
or what it was. Anyway, as we were both broke, we decided to make some
money by robbing a bank. We disguised ourselves and left my room. I
still think we shouldn't have gone across the city being disguised. At
least no one recognized us. Heck, even I didn't recognize that green
guy, whoever he was.
One drawback after another. It was Sunday
(since Saturday was the day before), thus the bank was closed. The
monster was disgusted with me. Bummer. When crossing the city on our
way back to my place, we were laughed at, in every corner. Even the
policeman who noticed us didn't care about our funny appearance; he
didn't even suspect us of being bank robbers. More....he actually
called his wife and invited her to see the two monkeys wandering in the
town. It's probably Siim, your cousin, you know, he added.
No
one respects me. Even you don't. Gosh, I need a drink. How the fark did
someone like me become an editor-in-chief? God knows. I know only one
thing for sure. If I were a god, I wouldn't know a thing. And that's
all I know for sure.
Still with me? Poor you. We'll see what
next week brings. If you're unlucky enough, you'll get to read another
piece of crap. Believe me, I know. Oh yeah, if you have similar
problems to mine, feel free to get in touch. My email is
editor@thecheers.org Or if you don't have any problems, but you're just
one beautiful blond horny bitch with long legs, then actually I am too
- let's become pen friends. Do you have a picture and a phone number?
Cheers!
Tags:
world Family Love war time US government living 
