Monday, November 26, 2007
(12:01 PM) | F. Winston Codpiece III:
Help Yourself!
My dearest readers, as you may already know, Mr. Kotsko has called upon me to save The Weblog from self-destruction. Despite my natural hostility toward the demon-spawn of my ongoing mental illness, I was eager to take up the solemn task of blogging once again. Nothing brings me quite as much pleasure as sharing my wit and wisdom with a daily audience of 400 "unique visitors" -- not even the most delicious food, the most exquisite sexual intercourse, or the most satisfying crap. It is my only joy, perhaps even the only time when I most properly exist as a thinking subject, and my life has been the bleakest emptiness in the months since my last post -- an agony that was only compounded by watching my great love, Anne Hathaway, cavorting with the detestable Steve Carrell on the set of the forthcoming film version of Get Smart.While in the aforementioned pit of despair, I began reading self-help books. I didn't get very far in that vast body of literature -- indeed, I only read a couple chapters of Don't Sweat the Small Stuff: And It's All Small Stuff -- before realizing that the truest self-help is helping oneself to write one's own self-help book for oneself. Not having access to paper and a pen in my current setting, and being limited to only a half hour of Internet access a day, I am unable to write a proper book, but perhaps I can assemble enough pithy tips on this blog to put together a disjointed, repetitious volume that will insult my readers' intelligence upon my release. (My first tip: Do not plead guilty to statutory rape in the hopes that the problem will just "go away.")
Lend a Helping Hand
Do you feel useless? Powerless? Nothing raises my spirits quite like giving charity to those in need. Though many will donate to some kind of institutional charity, I prefer to free-lance it. That way, I can demand a thank you from my beneficiary and demand my donation back if I don't get a sufficiently enthusiastic one -- or, even better, I can lecture them on the irresponsible choices by which they earned their fate. My depression clears up instantly on realizing that I'm superior to a worthless wretch who lives on charity.
So this holiday season, why not consider extending your charity to someone in need?
