It’s somewhat mind-blowing for me that over 3 years ago, I managed to take my dick out of my hand long enough to get my shit together and launch Juice Nothing. The concept was simple: I wanted a place to keep my projects tidy. I envisioned it to be like a room of doors, each of which lead onto one of my many “amazing” projects that I had been building up. I imagined it as a website which granted anyone who found me the least bit interesting (if any such person exists), with an easy place to start stalking me. The idea of adding a blog to write my thoughts down came second to that original point.
Fast forward to today, and it has become my proudest baby yet. I know I’m not supposed to pick favourites, but fuck my children, Juice Nothing is where it’s at. I have watched it grow up and turn into a man, with past redesigns; future redesigns that are being worked on as we speak; and the writings growing like a friendly cancer, eventually totally dominating what this was all supposed to be about. It is my most regularly updated website (at least one new blog post a month), and as a result, is my most visited work by you people. Which encourages me greatly and makes me very happy, mostly because if I was a website, this would be me. It is me. I could cry.
And here we are, all that time later, on my 50th article (including short stories; excluding rants; the 5 part Best Albums of 2011 story counted as one). Normally this would be the time where someone would say “I can’t believe how far I have come; I never thought I’d reach this amount of content; it has grown beyond my wildest imagination; blah blah blah". But that is not the case. On the contrary, I can’t believe it has taken me so long to reach this number. I cannot comprehend the fact that I am not a well known writer yet. I thought I’d be much bigger by now. What the fuck, you guys.
However, and all that aside, this is still a landmark post. So in spirit of self worship, I decided now would be the perfect time to reflect without reservation at where I have come from, and then pick out which 20% stood higher than the rest; and which 20% sunk lower than my usual bullshit. I hope you enjoy me doing so, or at very least use it to read some stuff you may have missed along the way, because God knows I need the attention. Thanking you in advance.
Part 1: The Best Of Juice Nothing
26/03/10
As the first and oldest entry on this list, this article proves that even in my youth, I still had it, baby. But one thing I have realised since the launch of this little piece, is that opinions are like assholes. I will fuck you in your opinion, is what I am saying. Especially when I find many of the bands featured on my list to be on other “Worst Band Names” list around the net.
Whatever. I have become very good at ignoring everyone with a view besides for myself, and I still stand by my choices even after all this time. I impress myself so fucking often, and this effort was no exception. Just click the link and read those names - how many have you even heard of? Exactly. It took a lot of research to narrow it down to the ones you see here, especially when you consider that I personally only knew of 16 out of the 30 before I wrote the fucking thing. So where exactly did I find such wonderful band titles? Fuck knows. I was smoking a lot of weed at the time, I could have even made some of them up.
But the point stands that it is my favourite style of my own writing, which is: getting straight to the point and not taking a single word seriously in any way. Although perhaps because of this, it hasn’t really built up many hits despite how long it’s been out there, which makes me a little bit sad. So go on then. Be a sport. Give a clicky.
30/05/12
I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: I should be a self-help guru. I know shit, man. Shit that extends beyond your average human being. Just ask anyone.
But let it be known that a small part of me doesn’t really dig this article all that much. Like so many of my pieces around this time (which I like to call my “fat period”), it suffered from a gluttonous overindulgence and a bloated length. And despite focusing on the Law Of Attraction (a practice which teaches us to let go and take the easiest path of mental flow), it was anything but easy to write. Take into consideration that I started the damn thing in August 2010, and yet it took me just under 2 years to complete.
However (and despite my lack of confidence even when I clicked the publish button), the response has been no short of phenomenal. Within the hour of releasing the thing, 2 of my friends contacted me, informing me that they managed to manifest things into their reality almost immediately after reading it (one getting a free battery for her car, another getting the job she wanted). You can’t fuck with a power like that, which in turn, reinforced how amazing LOA is to me once again. It was all like one big circle jerk.
Since that time, the responses have continued to come in, slowly but surely with great results reported from strangers. Just take into consideration these 4 comments, which really encouraged my own happy pathway:
“Loved to read this post! A different style from the one I would use, and that was so refreshing! Thanks! I laughed a lot and I'm feeling relaxed and happy. Good manifestations!”
“Thanks for the advice on how to write about the person you are looking for. I have yet to see it put that way in LOA. In act, many of the things in LOA I've never seen explained the way you have. Most people make it so complex. LOL.”
“this article helped me a lot. I was kinda confused about LOA at first, but now it makes sence. I've even seen results already! Thanks bro.”
"awesome article with easy to apply methods and quirky humor. have you posted anymore articles on the law??"
What did I say? WHAT DID I SAY? I should be a fucking self-help guru.
08/07/10
Have you ever said something on facebook or twitter or whatever, and then got into a bunch of trouble for it? And then, like, you wanted to delete it, but you knew a lot people had already seen it, so it would look even worse if you did? And so you tried to defend what it was you said, but instead ended up digging an even bigger hole for yourself and then losing all of your friends, all of your family, and even your girlfriend for the rest of your life? Man, do I know that feel. Hence why at a very young age, I had to learn how to backtrack my words as fast as possible, whilst still maintaining my innocence and making the other parties look foolish. Needless to say, I managed to work it out because I am super smart, and that brings us to this very article.
As yet another golden oldie, the premise was simple: 5 techniques (each cleverly coupled with a related celebrity) which allows any person to be as offensive or as threatening as possible online, all the while maintaining some sort of a safety net to comfortably sleep in, in case the nasty claws of cyberspace came knocking. Such a unique idea is unchallenged on the entire internet (and I dare you to challenge that), which is why you wouldn’t be surprised to find that this is one of my most successful pieces yet.
Except, it’s not. Far from it. As it stands, less than 200 people have read this blog entry, making it one of the least viewed things I have ever written. Ever. To me, this is such a tragedy, because it all came from my own brain, and my brain is better than anything. So I am hoping that by placing it here, a little more attention will be guided the right way, right now (hint!).
01/04/10
This article deserves a space on this list based on the title alone. I get visions of you taking those unpainted white eggs with the chocolate center, and then shoving them up your bumhole, just to see how many you could fit in there. Three? Four? FIVE?? You sick bastard.
However (and totally in spirit of the content) this early 2010 piece hid behind the distracting premise that it was some sort of an Easter related thingie, a ploy which was further cemented when it was released on the said holiday. But while the introduction did comb over some of the finer details about eggs and rabbits and whatnot, it promptly lead onto a whole different type of easter egg all together. That’s right. I’m talking about music again. More specifically, “The Top 10 Hidden Secrets Within Albums”, which would have been a much smarter SEO term in hindsight, Jared.
From the usual end-of-album hidden tracks; to the lesser common pregap method; to secret computer related content; as well as tricks hidden within the album artwork... this list provided all the golden techniques that artists have used to sneak their smarts under the radar. Hell, we even find examples of an entire album hidden within an album, and some funny images embedded within the songs themselves. Which is like, wow, fucking impressive some of the shit these people have pulled off, and yet even more impressive that I wrote such a fantastic blog on the subject which has hardly aged with time at all. So go on and shove five easter eggs in your ass, I don’t care. What’s wrong with you.
27/05/11
You know, people often (often) ask me “How do you do it, Jared? How do you make contact with so many celebrities?” So I casually adjust my moustache whilst sipping my soya milk, and then reply with “I harass".
Because I do. Whether it be via twitter or hiding under the tables of expensive restaurants, I always meet my target, and I owe all of this to the gentle art of harassment.
As a series I hope to continue for the rest of my life, it was the second edition of My Brief Brushes With Greatness that really seemed to hit the g-spot. Released a mere year after the first version, it is quite incredible what I managed to achieve in such a short space of time, and yet still live to tell the tale. Sure, some call me a stalker, but the success of this blog speaks for itself, and it has been rather successful. The reason for this, is because such a topic is over-loaded with so many celebrity names (which is priceless google search term material), that the masses continue to flock to my site just to see what I am saying about the precious people they adore. Which, in turn, makes me more famous myself. Hence why I feel it is acceptable to harass celebrities. Because you people are harassing me. Leave me alone.
(Part III coming 2013, I think)
28/10/10
Hail Satan.
I was a naughty boy in my youth, filled with darkness and blood and mucous and weird thoughts. But who wasn't, really? No, why I feel I stood apart from some of you lot, is because (up until the time I wrote this piece) I had a secret story. It was one which I never wanted anyone to know, for reasons detailed within those very paragraphs. Only one thing could get it out of me. Only one thing can make me do anything. That’s right. Formspring. Without anonymous questions from strangers, I would pretty much just sit on my couch and eat cheese & onion potato chips because, goddamn, those things are good.
So when I was asked the question “have you ever had any paranormal experiences?”, I felt it was time to reveal my evil story. However, I decided not to waste it on that particular website, but rather on this particular website, because I needed to tell it to a wider audience. And tell it I did. Right around Halloween 2010, OoooOOOoOOoooOOh. I just wet myself.
As the first line of the story states (and it is the most important line of all), none of this tale was made up. And because of this (despite being quite under-read by my general visitors) it was a post that more people have spoken to me about in person, above almost all the others. One guy told me that, directly after reading it, he saw gargoyles moving in the architecture. Another girl told me that her cat jumped onto her keyboard while she was in the middle of reading it, and so she screamed. And best of all, my (then future) girlfriend told me that she was too scared to go to the bathroom for hours after she had got to the end. Bless her. Mission successful.
So read it, but be warned: IT WILL DO YOU NO GOOD. Luckily, my paranormal experiences have been to a minimal since then, and I have lived a relatively care-free life in recent times. Oh, unless you count that time some lady with an alien implant trapped me in her house, but that’s a different story.
01/04/10
My favourite thing about this bit of writing, is that sometimes someone will bring it up in conversation with me. And then an eavesdropper will drop on eaves, and quickly interject with something like “oh, you mean to the effect of Ozzy Osbourne?” or “Marilyn Manson must be number 1”. OH MY FUCKING LOL DON’T MAKE ME FUCKING LOL, I might scream as I spit my lukewarm beer into their face. They made me do it. They were uneducated and deserved to be treated as so.
For as far as musical research goes, very few of my Juice Nothings went as deep as this one. Because we have a fucking freak show on our hands here, featuring such depraved stories as on-stage sex acts; consuming of roadkill; murder of one’s own mother; living as the opposite sex for life; sewing up your vagina; eating your girlfriend; or teaching your children to be race-hating nazis. On this list, music talent came second only to putting your typical fucked-upness to some diluted shame.
In hindsight, there were a few people I missed, and the ordering could have been a bit better, but it’s still something I love and am very proud of. Especially that one time when I stumbled across some random forum discussing it, saying good things, without any idea I was watching from the shadows. Is that what fame tastes like? Cos it tasted pretty powerful.
03/03/11
I was quite young the day I woke up and realised “oh my God. I am John Lennon.” All the evidence had been right in front of me this whole time, but only in that moment did it all come together. I bolted upright and then, believe it or not, on the wall across from my bed was the image of John Lennon’s face, just staring at me. It was a poster. I had put it there.
Now, people say I’m crazy, but that is only because they are SCARED of the TRUTH. And it is in my experience that once any doubter actually reads my in-depth analysis of my pre-birth history (complete with detailed references), they all eventually agree: I was John Lennon. I have long hair, after all. Coincidence does not exist.
The response to this one has been really good. A lot of laughs were had. A lot of insults were made. Some hippies asked me if I had any past-life memories, and then offered their help in getting said memories out. Others threatened my life because, obviously, they were the true reincarnations of John Lennon, and I was just some phony n00b wtf tits or gfo. But my favourite by far was an email from the official reincarnation of Buddy Holly, who wanted to meet up with me and discuss the finer details of our former selves. I politely declined on the grounds that I don’t actually believe I am the reincarnation of John Lennon. I am the embodiment of Satan. He was less keen on that.
03/10/12
The first and only Goat’s Nest story to appear on this list, this particular tale is arguably the strongest thing I’ve ever written. The concept was to write a children's story with a moral at the end; and then to write an adult story propelled by violence and sexual abuse. And then, somehow, fuck them both together into one story, creating a solid connection between the two. I am relieved it actually worked at all.
The only issue I have with this piece, is that it was probably too goddamn long and overly-detailed. But let it be known: I blame this solely on Stieg Larsson because I was reading his Millennium Series at the time. That dude can go on. However, and despite this flaw, response for this one was much higher than any of my other short stories (even though each of them deserve props in their own special way), which I credit to the fact that it contained real life references within the imaginary world. Stuff like relevant Bible passages, or a distorted analysis of Robert Sternberg’s Triangular Theory of Love, because I’m educated lyk thet. It was a good move in the end, proven not only by my friends' encouraging feedback, but also because it was the most upvoted link on the Short Stories Subreddit for like, 20 seconds.
Ah, what the hell. Just because it’s my 50th blog, I will reveal 3 little secrets you most likely didn’t pick up on your first time around. Here you go. It’s a pleasure.
(1) Gladly The Crossed Eyed Bear was named after a bit in the Christian hymn "Keep Thou My Way", with the line “Gladly the cross I'd bear”.
(2) Bisexual The Polar Bear was a play on words too, an extension of the Bipolar condition (Bi-Polar Bear).
(3) This story ties in tightly with my previous story “The Art Of Enjoyable Flying”, as Roxi and Gareth were said to have met at Jamie’s funeral.
Another hint: every single Goat’s Nest story connects to each other, in one way or another. HAIL MY GENIUS.
The sequel to this story is being planned, and it’s not what you think.
30/08/11
And this is it: the best blog I have ever written. But let it be known that this is by no means my personal favourite. I did not choose this as my best blog ever. You guys did.
The proof lies in the stats. It has been read roughly 30,000 times (which is close to triple the amount of anything else I have ever written). It is viewed about 170 times a day - and rising. My top search keyword of all time is “how to fuck a boy” and the top 10 includes “how to fuck a guy”; “fuck boys”; and “how to fuck a gay”. It is the anal of my writings, unchallenged as the main entry point to all my shit.
On the one (much lighter) hand, this makes me a very happy child, because it is a rad concept in my “modest” opinion. Many a drunken party I had entertained a repulsed crowd with the rules I had made up, in which a self-proclaimed heterosexual male could engage in homosexual activity without threatening his sexual orientation. It was a great relief to finally put this onto paper, I tell you, as now I can just send them a link, saving me time, saving me money, putting me first.
However, on the other (much much darker) hand, I shamefully admit that most of these hits are misguided, to put it very fucking lightly. Just take these two comments into consideration, as they stood out for me as the original evidence that something was very wrong:
“i wont to fuck kids boys but how to do it. pleas help me doc how to do it”
“I want to make new friends who could spend some time with me in a room and we need privacy”
Basically put, raging pedophiles were taking the word “boys” at face value, and not as a general term for the male gender. They were trying to sleep with children. They were coming to me for advice. Needless to say, my stomach churned at this realisation, but hey, hits are hits... right? If the child molesters are my biggest fans, so be it, I’ll take what I can get. But I like to believe that at least a couple of thousand pedos who have landed on this article (only to find instructions on how to suck a dick guilt-free) eventually got lost within all my other imeasurable brilliance and then became a Jared fan for the right reasons. I need to believe this. It’s the only way I can sleep at night.
Special mention
Props has to go to the John Lennon/Stephen King Did Not Say This rant (released 15/08/12). Despite only being launched a few months ago, it is my 10th most read blog ever, and it only took me 2 hours to write and publish. Because you can't beat that kind of immediate passion. It poured out of mouth like hot sick and then I shouted "look at what you made me do."
It isn't a true article (hence why it wasn't included on the main list), but in a way, it is so much more than that. It is education, and it is a fucking weapon. Still to this day I see those misquotes being posted around the internet, infecting Twitter and Facebook and Tumblr and everywhere else. So what I have done here, is granted myself as well as other people a position of strength, where we can now just post a simple link without even thinking about how to respond the mal-research. In fact, I have seen complete strangers using it like this on Twitter before, so yeah, power to the people and power to me.
Part 2: The Worst Of Juice Nothing
19/12/11 - 31/01/12
To be fair, there are many reasons why this blog entry was pretty good. For starters, it was a fuckload of work for just an “end-of-year best albums list”, as each record served as a chapter to some elaborate story about an eternal couple; the war between heaven and hell; and some prophecy or other, I can’t really remember. And to this day, it stands as the only thing I’ve ever written which was not only so massive that it had to be released in 5 parts, but also as something that fell into the Juice Nothing article territory, as well as standing as a slice from The Goat’s Nest universe. And this did not go unnoticed, as I have received responses from some of the artists featured; comments from other music related websites; and over 10,000 hits collectively for this piece. So why the fuck is it on this list?
It is because it failed. I would never work so hard on something if I didn’t think it was good enough to propel me into superstardom. If it had done so, it would have been worth it. But it didn’t. So it wasn’t worth it. No, instead what we are left with is an over-indulgent beast which takes place in some confusing chronological order, becoming as daunting as it was disorganized as it was so fucking annoying. I can’t believe anyone even read it at all. I wouldn’t.
In summary: the stress and nightmare that went into this story did not justify the results, and for that reason, if I could go back in time, I would have split it into the 2 separate pieces it should have always been. But I can’t go back in time, duh. So deal with it.
30/03/11
*yawn* these self referential articles are such a bore. I’d hate for people to think I am actually aware of my own self, because that would mean I have some sort of a personality, and as my daddy always taught me “Jared, nobody will ever love you for your personality, but at least you got nice tits.” He was a smart man.
Granted, I do think I am one of the few bloggers who spends as much time on the artwork as I do the writing. But I’m not sure that justified an entire blog entry devoted to it, especially the path in which I took to do so, which I will pick apart after the colon:
Best Of My Own Artwork? Wow, showy much? Look at me guys! Look at me! I look at myself all the time! In the mirror while I wank! I don’t make eye contact though, that would be weird and feels too shameful. Much like the article I’m talking about here.
Worst Of My Own Artwork? This is the equivalent of pissing on some public carpet and then rubbing my own nose in it, calling myself a “bad boy” and telling myself to “go outside”. Now, obviously, I could be into that, but metaphorically, it’s a no-no. And I didn’t learn anything from it. Nobody did.
25/10/11
Despite being the only fictional story in the world which features a sex scene between a scarecrow and a fish-humanoid, this whole thing was a bit of a messy mess. It’s a pity, because I worked really hard on it, having started the thing near the end of 2008. But that alone should’ve been enough of a bad omen. Writing needs to flow easily like a good poo, so when you have been trying to force a dump for about 3 years, you should probably go see a doctor. That’s some good free health advice for you right there.
But I can’t express this hard enough: it was a painful process. I took essentially 3 different short story ideas and tried to cram into one, which I wouldn’t recommend. I was going mad. At points, I rewrote entire paragraphs, and then cut those same paragraphs out again. This happened so many times that at least 4 different versions of this story have existed at some point in time. In fact, for the entire 3 year writing period, Bristle got shot in the end, which I changed a week before I published the tale. Here’s another free hint: if you’re changing the ending of your story that late in the game, the whole thing probably wasn't that worthwhile to begin with. I’m actually so underwhelmed by it, I can’t even think of a joke right now.
And yet, most surprisingly of all, it was still read more times than any short story that came before it. I think I probably owe this to the title, which in all fairness, was probably the best aspect of it.
However, I must conclude by saying that this writing is incredibly important to the overall Goat’s Nest timeline, and (like all of my fiction) deeply connects to the others, slowly justifying it’s purpose more over time rather than instantaneously. So sure, it’s not exactly pointless, just executed badly, and for that I am so terribly sorry.
14/08/07
As technically the first Juice Nothing article EVER (it actually predates Juice Nothing itself by over 2 years), I think I won’t be too hard on this one. I was just a little kiddie, after all. And even thinking about it now, writing a list of 100 top songs (131, to be exact) without leaving shit out is by no means an easy feat. In fact, it’s fucking impossible.
But my main gripe over this article came with the inescapable burden of age. My then 22 year old self had developed a musical taste; one which he thought he knew well. But living with the musical taste was a drag. He was always late on the rent and left dirty dishes on the counter for days on end. Eventually (and regrettably), I had to kick him out. It wasn’t an easy process, but as I predicted, it turned out for the best, as I am now living with a much superior music taste who I get along with fabulously. I have never told him about the 2007 taste though, because that would be far too embarrassing and awkward for the both of us.
Don’t get me wrong: there are some good songs featured here. Hell, the Top 20 is pretty fucking perfect still to this day. However, it is such a bold title, and I’d hate for people to think this was still my opinion. I mean... there is no Fleetwood Mac for god's sake! That fact alone is enough to earn a place on this list.
It’s probably time I try this one again. Maybe later.
25/10/07
At first glance, there doesn’t seem to be all that much wrong with this youngster. The dudes included were most definitely well-chosen and respectable rock Gods. Furthermore, none of the entries came with my usual opinionated ramblings (which is refreshing, I’m sure), but rather a well selected quote; the definite masterpieces they were involved with; and the inarguable justifications as to why they needed to be there. So why do I consider this piece crap enough to include here?
I’ll tell you. Oh, yes. I will tell you good. It’s because I have a confession to make. At the naive age I was when I wrote this (just over 23 years old, I’ll have you know), I was still very swayed by popular opinion. I was afraid that if I left certain members off, it would look like I didn’t know what I was talking about. And then people would judge me.
So at risk of getting shot, the following would have never made my list in hindsight: Joe Strummer (I’m sorry), Ozzy Osbourne, Robert Plant (gasp!), Pete Townshend, Keith Richards (I’d pick Jagger over him now), and Chris Cornell. Whew, that is a fuckload off my mind.
But it doesn’t end there. There is one mistake I have made on this article and this article alone, which it so unforgivable that it earns a slot here all by itself. The chart STARTS at number 1. That's right, it begins with my favourite rock God (hint: he's in the featured picture), and then slowly works its way down to the worst. Why would anyone read on if they already knew how it ended? It’s like someone telling you that Bruce Willis was dead at the end of Sixth Sense. It RUINS the article, and it RUINS my life. Why.
27/04/08
Another ancient piece with one fatal flaw: I only chose album artwork I owned personally. Not, like, on my computer or anything. Actual physical square cd albums I paid money for. Ah, remember the days!
Which is why I am pretty sure this blog was nothing more than a platform to boast from. I was still on the whole “piracy is the devil” trip at that age, and wanted to feel morally superior in public, using this piece to rub my pretentious cock into the faces of anyone who looked my way. I’m not like that anymore. I use Spotify.
If that wasn’t enough to wound this animal, it was the collection itself that delivered the deathblow. The worst part of it all was the abundant evidence of my troubled Nu Metal youth scattered within the entries. I have done so well to hide that shameful part of my life everywhere else, and yet here I blow the lid right off my embarrassing past. What if someone cool reads it? What if someone cool reads this??
I think a real “Best Album Artwork Ever” article is way overdue.
12/01/10
Remember: the second edition of my Greatness series made the “Best of Juice Nothing” list. So at this point, it should be quite obvious how much weaker my first attempt was in order to find itself here. It was so bad, in fact, that a much more accurate title would have been “My Hardly Anything To Do With Anyone”, which wouldn’t have done much for my web traffic, but would have done wonders for my karma. That’s because none of these entries were really even that famous, and the ones who were, wouldn’t even remember who I was. So while it works perfectly in order to compare how far I have come, it’s still a pile of shit, and building a foundation on shit will stink.
And yet (for what it was), it did seem to get a fair amount of attention directed its way. I have thought long and hard about how this may have happened, and have come to the following conclusion: these so called “celebrities” have been googling themselves over and over, only to find I am the sole person who has ever written about them. This point was further proven when the ex-guitarist from Dry Kill Logic emailed me and didn’t seem all that amped about what I said about them. So I was like “Dry Kill Logic who?” I’m an asshole.
04/03/10
Whether I have ever written a decent “10 People To Follow On Twitter” post is debatable, but the first one of the current four stands tallest and proudest as the worst motherfucker on this planet.
I have written quite extensively about why this is in my third edition, but in summary: I have a Twitter Curse which revolves around these very articles, and it goes a little something like this:
The accounts I feature in these writings start to suck. Many of them start to suck instantly after I publish the article. And while the later editions seem to have come out the other side a little less scratched, this first edition was struck the hardest. That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it. And just for lols sake, I will show you exactly what I mean, by looking at each entry individually:
(10) Michael Ian Black isn’t (and never was) funny.
(09) Devvo is even less funnier than Michael Ian Black.
(08) Undercover doesn’t exist anymore.
(07) Secret Tweet was last seen December 2010.
(06) Ivy Bean died :(
(05) Dinner Guest got boring 20 split-seconds after I posted this piece. The dude still has next to no followers after 3 years, which proves my point.
(04) Pimp Bill Clinton is still worth something or other - if something or other is basically the same joke told in slightly different ways.
(03) Shit My Dad Says barely Tweets anymore, and when they do, it’s pretty lame. They did try to make a sitcom out of it, though. It fucking failed and got cancelled.
(02) Sleep Talkin’ Man is STILL FUCKING FUNNY! THE EXCEPTION! THE RULE!
(01) Jesus M Christ is pretty much the exact same thing as Pimp Bill Clinton to me. It’s probably the same author.
So as you can see, this all puts the errrr into Twitterrrr. That joke was so terrible that I’d rather stop there.
31/07/12
What’s most embarrassing about this one, is that I pretty much just wrote it a few months ago. You would think I’d know better by now, but you would think wrong.
However (and as I have already detailed in entry #10 of this very list), the original 5 parter short story was a very complex and confusing journey. Too many questions were left unanswered, like Lost. For example: What the hell was going through my mind when I wrote something so stupidly ambitious? How many albums did I listen to in order to make a top 50 list? What albums didn’t quite make the cut? What did Jimmy see in that puddle? Wait, Jimmy saw something in a puddle? Who was Jimmy? What the fuck even happened in that story back there, anyway?? You guys didn’t read it, I know.
Regardless, if for no one else other than myself (which was exactly the case), I felt I needed to put together this guide in order to clear up a few of the finer details hidden within my biggest story to date. But even if it had a purposeful purpose, I still couldn’t quite save it from being easily one of the least read things I have done. I mean, if the short stories themselves managed to make the list, then an article about the short stories had to take the cake, albeit a stale rancid urinal cake.
As I’ve so eloquently put it at the end of this article: “I think the funniest thing about this guide is that I constantly refer to the original short stories as a pile of wank. And then I went ahead and wrote another article dissecting the wank, so this is like a wank within a wank or something? Sounds kind of nice, actually.” OMG, SO TRUE JARED.
12/02/13
Oh my God, it doesn’t get any worse than this. Just look at the font! PUKE! I can smell the colour of the hyperlinks, it’s that bad. I almost feel like talking about it in third person I am so ashamed, like “Jared almost feels like talking about it in third person he is so ashamed”. It’s like a boat without merit. A candy store without reception. A fucking grenade singing the best of Nina Simone. It’s almost as if I cut off all my fingers and typed this article with bloody stumps, mixed with the semen of a rapist. I want to stand up and walk away just thinking about it. I once wrote my name on my chest with a permanent marker because my best mate David told me it would be an original way to make friends. I failed my 7th year of High School, but also lost my virginity that same year, so I am totally cool with it. Thursdays are not the new Fridays, they are still Thursdays, asshole. I have phantom aches where my appendix used to be. The Japanese flag is simple but wicked rad.
Conclusion
This was painful to write. Here’s to the next 50.
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