Monday, 20 May 2013

AND NOW, THE TRUTH ABOUT MY EDITOR: HE'S UGLY

BECAUSE I RESPECT YOUR NEED TO KNOW WHAT MY EDITOR LOOKS LIKE,  
I personally handpicked this sensitive and frankly very flattering portrait of him.
Everybody's been asking and asking and asking ... haranguing, really, if you want to be technical about it ... about my editor. The dude who writes those cheeky notes at the end of most of my posts. 

"Oh, he's so funny!" they say. "He's funnier than you! Who is he? What does he look like? How come we never see pictures of your editor?" 

I always thought it was best to keep him anonymous. No one needs to see what my editor looks like. He's not the top dog here, I am.  
But then he started adding his illiterate ramblings at the end of my posts and now he's become something of a celebrity. Famewhoring bastard. I will not encourage Tits-for-Brains (my pet name for him; the printable one) by posting a photograph of him, because next thing you know his head will need a room of its own and he'll be braying that he's the reason people read my blog. He'll be badgering me for yet another raise, the proceeds of which he will spend on rum. The man drinks even more than I do! I don't need that kind of aggravation, people. And neither do you.

Editor's note:
Oh, nice. Today was supposed to be my day off, and I log on and see this horse crap. Let me just tell you, Whorrified would not even exist were it not for me and my "illiterate ramblings." Let me also just tell you, this broad can't spell her way out of a paper bag. Do you know how many times I have saved her? Yeah, SEVEN DAYS A WEEK would not be an exaggeration! Like the time she wrote that The Fonz starred in Welcome Back Kotter. HELLOOOOO! Happy Days! Listen, if it weren't for the fact that I secretly have a crush on her (did I mention that she is stunningly beautiful? That her natural body odour is jasmine? Seriously. I could stand next to her and just inhale her all day. She smells that good), I would quit tomorrow.


MY NOTE: Well you don't have to quit. Because I'm firing you. You're fired, you asshole.
EDITOR'S NOTE: Good luck getting through one week without me, you staggering, drunken disaster, you.
MY NOTE: See? He's perfect for me. xoxoxo