Extra Evil - Johnny Appleseed the Third

Today’s Fortune: The other horoscopes are lying.

Oct 02, 2024

Newsreel

Escalation escalated further.

The rats set Eric up.

Hurricanes hustled to compete with manmade destruction.

50 Cent still has the best P. Diddy joke.

Someone, somewhere changed their vote based on a vice presidential debate.

Mamosets have names for each other. No word on insults.

Today's Mood

War Journal

What can I say about Eric’s implosion that hasn’t been said about love?

Do you talk too loudly? Softly? Much? Little? Do you curse compulsively, or dodge it like a nun?

Try editing your own voice. I still sound like I learned to talk yesterday, but it’s 200% more Hollywood now. Or um, it’s like, I kinda, feel like, I think, um…you get it. The filler words are dying.

Recording stand-up had a similar benefit. Though stand-up generally required a psych-up ritual so elaborate I’d forget. Or enough tequila that I’d forget. Or neither, and I’d get so nervous I’d forget. Only two or three videos of me joking exist, and one of them is shakier than a 10’s earthquake thriller.

Not that it would matter today. The viral apocalypse restet mankind’s social skills. I think I’ve rebuilt past high school, which is a nice milestone.

The point? Thursday officially belongs to anime nonsense. I delayed announcing a regular day of the week for Weeaboo Hell, because I knew life would decide. I thought it’d be Monday. Turns out that’s slow suicide. If your column runs Tuesday and your newsletter runs Wednesday, you don’t exist on Sunday night. That is your shade. Your shade can’t use Audacity.

Oreo Coke has me by the soul. It moves me. It is man’s final triumph against the demiurge. With zero (well, some number less than five) calories.

It is interesting that it only comes in dysmorphia mode. Convenient for me, but unconventional for their gimmick flavors. I suppose getting people with higher standards than me into cyborg soda is the underlying marketing goal/logic. If I was smarter, I’d use this whole line of thought for Not Brought to You By. But why work once when you can work twice?

Right, the title. Here’s a behind-the-scenes note on the pranks.

I love designing them. Editing them. Slipping past gendarmes and cameras. Watching reactions. Bragging to dates.

Walking around the city? For six hours a night, for at least a week? Pain in my ass. The Rx Box load is too heavy for a bike or a skateboard, so it’s an extra-large bag of suck. My step counter says “stop.”

Back to it tonight, of course.

The Present

The Past

Another piece about my friend Eric.

The Future

I pitched some material on love bombing, Eric’s troubles, and gambling. Not the same project, though that’d be fascinating.

Not Brought to You By

I’m researching soap ads for something else, because I have a normal job and life and brain. Let’s double dip here.

Don’t overplay your hand. Yes, being alive and light on cancer is more important than geography. But those aren’t the stakes, or even in conflict. Lifebuoy offers to solve a problem on an alien world.

Creativity: D- | Persuasion: D | Sanity: D-

Now we’re back to human logic. Your children attract filth, and you should only let them eat enough of it to shore up their immune system. Buy our soap. Also: boring and cloying, but I’m a fan of the progress.

Creativity: D | Persuasion: C | Sanity: C