The Guest Post of ALL Guest Posts
Have you ever guest posted on someone's blog? Have you ever had someone guest post on your blog? Okay, how about this:
Have you ever guest posted on YOUR own blog?
Neither have I. So I thought I would try it. What the hell, right? Last thing I want is lazy readers. Maybe my doppleganger will hit it off with you. Maybe he'll take over my blog and steer it into a completely different direction. Maybe he's into fast cars and easy women. Maybe YOU are. Maybe he wears size 40 Levi's and loves boneless brisket. Maybe he has a cute lisp and a handle bar mustache. Or drives a Geo Prism.
Or maybe it's just VINTAGE PAPA rearing his ugly head. Who doesn't like a little fun?
What follows is a guest post from ME, age 16. (Or at least what I remember.)
Dear Mirror,
What the fuck? Seriously...I know things happen in threes, but gimme a break: Glasses, braces AND zits? Now?!! In High School? I'm sixteen! I just got my first car. Do I have to get tinted windows, too? Look at me. My face looks like Chernobyl. I can't tell if it's an explosion or a meltdown. Oh, oh, oh -- and of course, it has to happen right before work. I mean who has zits who I work with? Name one person. No one. That's who. The managers don't. The hostesses don't. The servers don't. No one has zits at Applebee's. No one. Just me. I mean the dishwashers, of course -- but no one else. Hi my name's Brian, can I take your order? 'Sure, Big Briiiii-- Uh, can I get a 12 ounce steak, baked potato, and a ramekin of that puss melt on the side of your neck? And while you're at can you 86 the braces? The spinach, or green leaf, or whatever-the-hell you got caught in your teeth is killing me.' Whatever... At least Mom said I could get contacts next week. The only good thing about my glasses is I can't see my face when I take them off. Thank god. Except for the huge zit on my forehead, of course, that makes me look like a retarded cyclops. I'm sure I can find a club somewhere. How my supposed to get dates? Seriously. Unless I go at night to the movies or something. I mean I hope I find a cool girl but probably the only way is if she has braces and zits too and then we'll have a baby and the baby will have zits and if it doesn't then whoever picks her up will have zits or our dogs will have zits or we'll live on a big hill that looks like a zit. Why do they call it Clearasil, anyway? My face isn't clear. Oh, and how my supposed to shave? It's like I'm mowing the lawn. I have to shave AROUND the zits. Otherwise it's like a fucking volcano. Good luck with the gauze pads. Whatever...at least I have hair. And I'm tall. And I can bench press 185. AND... I'm getting contacts. I may look stupid now, but it's only a phase. Plus, you know what, it doesn't even matter, you know why?
I'm going to be rich.
In conclusion, I had a awesome time guest posting, Papa age 35, and I hope you'll let me do it again.
Maybe when I lose my virginity...or something.
-- PAPA
What's been your hardest life stage?
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