yo yo yo kiddies,
so i spent most of the last month researching my latest play. its about a karate master you may be familiar with who supposedly died in the last year or two. thing is the guy (or girl...) didn't die, in fact he just faked that shit so that he could lure the world into a false sense of security and then launch an underground cookie revolution, one that would completely change the way that you, me and everyone we love and care about (and occasionally hate on) view life. the secret ingredients, some hardcore shit that i don't care enough about to remember currently. it was heady stuff, and i gotta say it was a relief to finally pull myself out of that whole society. i don't know if i got the meddle for cut throat black ops shit.
but yeah needless to say the whole quagmire required some intense embedded-ness on my part, so i hadn't seen my meat pack district apartment that entire time. so i get home earlier today and i find that my mail box (both literal and virtual) is packed full of assorted correspondence from eastern european companies of varying prestige asking me--yes little ol' me--to become their new corporate face. see the thing is in the month since i last surfaced, i've become a sort of celebrity as my play was viewed as being a perfect (to all the motherfucking t's) deconstruction of contemporary eastern european society. so after shining light on how pitiful that collective group of people's lives really are, each and every one of these corporations has been rushing to get me to endorse them, thus giving them the badge of "hey nearly everything you believe in is bullshit, but not this, so buy the fuck out of it, and you're guaranteed to be cool, just like me." being new to this and also not wanting to get myself into yet another quagmire (especially not another that requires spending a month with exhumed corpses), i started doing some research on all of my company-callers and on celebrity and whether or not i'm willing to take that plunge in the first place.
well after 48 minutes of work i've come to an answer...fuck yes i'm ready to embrace celebrity and all the cool shit that comes with it. celebrities lead the coolest lives dating who ever they want (i'm already in touch with bea arthur), driving whatever they want (i've already ordered a bentley wheel barrow with which i will drive around l.a. in), smoking whatever they want (...umm maybe it's better i not say my plans for this), and just all around doing whatever they want regardless of whether or not common folks could do it (13 nipslips already!). whose to tell you know when you're fucking aces afterall. but as for my company i'll be lending my striking visage too...well it turns out it's not eastern european (although i'll be fronting their foray's into poland and the ukraine). it's a little los angeles based company that you may have heard of...ready for it...you sure...don't want at least one more guess...ok fine...paris hilton shoes!!! i am proud to say that those heels are the cat's meow and i can whole heartedly throw my all behind their product from both an aesthetic and comfort levels. plus it'll occasionally give me the chance to hob nob with paris's new beau, benji, something which im all for.
besides raking in the dough that comes with having agreed in principle (and tomorrow signing the contract) to shill ms. hilton's excellent footwear, i'm also going to start documenting all the goings on of my new friends. so be ready for plenty of not so exclusive pics and anecdotes of miley cirus, scarjo, and tom sellek. it's the life of a celebrity babies, and i'm living the fuck out of it.
now excuse me while i go prepare for my first champagne bath.
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