Sooner or later you and I both knew it would come to this, but that doesn’t make this any easier for me to say.
Recently I know we’ve had our ups and downs, me posting at all hours of the day and night, drinking heavily, promising the world and letting you down time and time again, standing over your bed at 3am with an ice-pick gripped in my fist… um… wait, what was I saying?
Oh yeah. There’s no easy way for me to say this so I’m just going to blurt it out in capital letters:
I’VE BECOME A CORPORATE WHORE GOOD-FOR-NOTHING, MIGHT-AS-WELL-BE-2OCEANSVIBE, TOTAL SELLOUT!
BUT, I’ve got a fucking sweet phone now! KA-POW!
Remember that writing gig I told you about waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaayy back? (ie. yesterday), well part of that is I get a Nokia X6 along with a year’s free subscription to Nokia Music (yay! I can finally listen to all my favourite Kanye West albums for free!).
Technically I guess I didn’t sellout on my blog though as the writing gig and phone are both for another site entirely, but getting all that rad free shit today made me realise that if people had to approach me with a buncha free shit for this site, I’d find it really, really fucking hard to turn them down.
Still though, there’s no fucking way I’d ever accept advertising or free stuffs on the basis that I had to write or say something that I wouldn’t otherwise. So yeah, in other words, I don’t think it’s fucking likely that ANYONE will ever approach this blog for advertising purposes because let’s face it, this site is toxic as asbestos and as consumer-friendly as a dead rat in your Happy Meal.
Having said that, I want you to take this gun, it’s fully loaded and the safety’s off, and if I ever sellout and become another advertising-riddled pile of horse shit, I want you to shoot me. Right in the money-maker (not that money-maker! The face! The FACE fer chrissakes!).
Here at Them’s Fightin’ Words we pull no punches and make no apologies. That’s the way it’s always been and always will be.
Forever and ever.
Amen.
Here’s a badass Garden Gninja smoking a cigarette.
Exactly.
-ST
