I’m not going to lie to you. After shutting down my wildly successful Hate By Numbers tm series, I wasn’t coming back. My self-imposed indefinite sabbatical was going really well, and I thought Cracked was humming along just fine without me. But last week I got a call that changed everything. I knew it was my former editor Jack O’Brien before even answering; I’d assigned Madonna’s Vogue as his ring tone. No song better captured Jack’s fluid sexual identity and processed faux chic posturing.

“Hey,” I answered with all the ease of a free man.

After all, Jack was no longer my boss – just some dude who loved Cracked.com and the sexy pop disco beats of a certain middle aged Diva from Detroit. I settled into my rich leather couch and poured myself two fingers of scotch, enjoying my newfound status. But just then something broke the mood. Something functionally illiterate:

“Call him ‘Jack-o-roni & Cheese,’” shouted Dan O’Brien from my opposing love seat.

Dan was back on the East coast for Christmas, and crashing at my place after his parents kicked him out for doing something “unholy” to his family Priest with the church’s nativity baby Jesus. Apparently, no one was impressed with Dan’s defense that he was just trying to figure out what Jesus would “do.” (And yes, Dan made the little quote fingers on “do” when he explained the story to me.)

“Call him ‘Jack-o-roni & Cheese,’” Dan repeated. “Because, y’know, it rhymes with macaroni & cheese, and his name is Jack.”

“Yeah, I get it,” I replied. “Now finish your bag of ketamine and go to sleep like a good boy.”

“G-Stone, you there?” Jack asked. I hadn’t heard him so anxious since he lost all his glow sticks and pacifiers in one night. “I need you to come back, G-Stone. Please. I’ll do anything.”

“Will you pay me market rates for my freelancing?”

“Oooh, no can do,” Jack said, “but I will totally let you have my first edition, autographed cassette single of Madonna’s Lucky Star.”

I’m not sure why, but I’ve always liked Jack. Maybe it’s because he worked himself up to Editor in Chief of a successful comedy website when fate would have dictated that he turn to hustling his John Mayer-esque ass for a dollar on the streets of Thailand like so many of his peers.

“Can I write about anything I want and make it as indulgent and self-referential as possible?” I asked.

“As long as I can figure out a way to title it for DIGG.com, yes.”
So I agreed to do a post. Something about how I’ve spent my month or so away from Cracked. The good. The bad. The uninteresting. I’m not sure how that appeals to a wider audience, but that’s Jack problem. (That and his crippling meth addiction.) Still, I thought I’d throw him a bone by drawing some universal advice from each of my experiences for you, the reader. So without further ado:

HOW G-STONE IS SPENDING HIS SABBATICAL
(or Suggestions For A Great 2009)

As all the papers have reported, I recently underwent a significant life-changing event by imposing a sabbatical on HBN. My silly little three minute videos, lampooning pop culture news, TV, and music did more for my comedy career in a few months than all my preceding years of comedy writing combined. Strong proof that either my dreamy bedroom eyes are simply irresistible or that people can’t actually read anymore. I’m going with the latter.

And as shocking and significant as my decision was, it occurs to me that, perhaps, important stuff has happened to other people in the last couple of months too. Maybe YOU are also at a transition. Perhaps, you’re preparing to enter high school or college. (School starts in January, right? I forget.) Or maybe you’re about to graduate high school or college. (That’s slightly less likely if you’re a Cracked reader). Or maybe you’re one of the record number of people who’ve just been laid off as a result of the increasingly bad global economy? In any event, I’m sure I wasn’t the only one doing some reflecting and soul-searching during this Holiday season.

What will 2009 bring? And more importantly, what should you do now to make sure 2009 brings what you want? Well, for one…

1. Do What You’re Supposed to Do.

I went on sabbatical to write comedy screenplays. How’s that going? It’s going, but I’m behind schedule. I’m halfway done with the first screenplay, but I wanted to be all done by now and on to the second. And I still have to make some dicey Act III decisions. In my defense, I’ve suffered certain setbacks in my personal life recently that may have had a subtle affect on my writing as indicated by this excerpt from a scene I was working on last week:

Bambi (sexy flight attendant)

Excuse me, sir, but are you Layne Wadstone? I love your hilarious video series and your dreamy bedroom eyes.

Layne

Why hello. Yes. Yes I am.

Bambi

Do you think you could help me with something in the airplane bathroom? (giggles and points to her lady parts)

Layne

I’m sorry, Miss, but no. You see, I’ve recently contracted chlamydia.

In any event, you don’t want to be like me. I don’t care what it is. Getting a new job; curing your acne in time for prom; studying for your finals now so that C- you just got on your mid-terms doesn’t sink your whole GPA; you’ve got stuff that needs doing. Do it.

And so will I. Promise. And take comfort knowing that while you’re studying in your dorm room at 3 am, I am fast asleep having rewarded myself with a nap after coming up with a knee-slapping sight gag for my screenplay. (Spoiler alert: The vicious dog bit WHAT part of the bad guy’s anatomy? Oh, that’s rich.)

2. Do Something You Have No Business Doing

So it’s all well and good to do what you’re supposed to do. I mean, I think I read that somewhere. But maybe you should use this time to do something you have no business doing. Something different to give you a charge. For example, everyone knows that I was the lead singer, songwriter, and rhythm guitarist of SlowBurn, the greatest 90’s band to ever hit Ithaca, New York. It’s also well-established that despite writing fairly aggressive and/or moody rock, an A&R guy from Atlantic records came to my gig at CBGB’s and called me a “balladeer.” (It’s also well-know that he showed up during the last 30 seconds of the gig high off his ass, and that I said some not very nice things to him). But what is NOT known, is that I don’t know how to play piano. And I’ve never written a song on piano.

So this last month, I taught myself some piano chords and wrote a song. I then recorded it and used my Vegas Video as a multitrack recording device. Mind you that means I had no reverb or eq’ing ability. So basically, it was a really, really dumb idea. And a poorly executed one too. The song is all over the place. It is nothing like anything I’ve ever written, and, frankly, you will be able to tell that I don’t know how to play piano. You will be able to tell that I overdrove the lo-fi microphone. You will wonder if I own a metronome.

So given all these deficits you may be wondering why I then made a little video to the song and put it online. Especially since I’m really proud of some of my other music –written and played on an instrument I understand and recorded somewhat competently—and none of that is available online. Why would I want this to be the only representation of my music to a fairly large audience? And why would I set myself up for “keep your day job, my ears are bleeding” abuse from my 75-100 haters on Digg.com?

That is a really good question. And I was going to ask my therapist, but I don’t have a therapist so I asked my former co-blogger Mike Swaim. Mike was confused. “Wait,” he said. “What’s the point of even being alive if you’re not constantly on video?” Maybe he’s right. Or maybe I’m trying to prove I don’t care what anyone thinks. You buy that, right?

Know what else makes no sense about this song? It’s about leaving the distractions of the internet behind to take care of the more important things in my life. So I recorded it. And put it online. And then blogged about it. Because I am a gigantic bag of contradictory crazy.  Looking back, I don’t think you should take any lessons from this behavior. Let’s move on.

But if you do watch it, do me a favor and double click on embedded vid so you can choose YouTube’s “watch in high quality” option.  This video doesn’t need any extra help looking crappy.

3. Get In Shape

Now this is a good idea. About six weeks ago, I had the presence of mind to consider that, perhaps, leaving all the joy that comes from being a ridiculous, internet pseudo celebrity might cause me to sink into a depression. In order to avoid a downward spiral of late night beer and cheese doodles, I decided to get into shape. And I did. I’m more fit now than I’ve been in years. I am firmly within my BMI. So much so that I won second runner up at Maine’s Don Draper look-alike contest this year:

My weight loss secret? Crippling depression. Yarp. It’s been a tough month. It killed my appetite and I just went with it. Used it to my advantage. There is only one problem with this diet. I started to get so pleased with my appearance that the depression lifted, and I began to overeat. Gained a few pounds, but I think I’ve got it down now, and I fully expect to return to my first job as a Calvin Klein underwear model when I drop the final 8 pounds.

So how does this apply to you? I’m not sure. Maybe you’re already fit? Or maybe you have some sort of glandular problem that prevents weight loss. I don’t know. Or maybe you’re one of those people who manages to be happy in life for reasons aside from body image. (Freak). But in case you wanted to lose weight, and you were waiting for some random, no-talent internet dude with delusions of grandeur to let you know it was OK, then rest assured, Ross Wolinsky says it’s fine.

4. Spend Way Too Much Time on Facebook

What else can you do to make 2009 great? Well if you’re like me, you’re prepping for 2009 by spending way too much time on Facebook. Is using Facebook to fill the void in your life a good idea? No. Actually, I think it might be the worst idea ever. Or at least the saddest thing I’ve ever heard. Oh wait, I take that back. Mike Swaim begging me to help him write the script to Internet Party 3, Electric Booga-You-Tube, was the saddest thing ever. But still, it’s pretty bad.

Without doubt, I overindulged in the old FB this last month and it’s just not cool. I have met some lovely people, and my status messages are just delightful, but it’s no way to live. Facebook makes you feel like you’re doing something while doing nothing and yet, in its own way, makes you too tired thereafter to actually do something. It’s a lot like filling out a moveon.org petition online. (Of course, that shouldn’t stop you from becoming my Facebook friend and joining Gladstoners the hippest fan club on the web).

So in summary, what advice can you take from my sabbatical for a great 2009?

1. Do what you’re supposed to do.
2. Don’t do what you’re not suppose to do.
3. Put down the jelly donut, fatty.
4. Easy on the Facebook (after becoming my friend).

and finally,

5. Replace your popular web series with an incredibly indulgent column that is even more self-centered and insufferably arrogant than even you thought possible.

*This column’s shout out goes to the incomparable Twig the Wonder Kid

Like G-Stone even more than he likes himself? Then check out his website Kafka Lives In Maine.

Special thanks to Matt Tobey for being an early sounding board and Ian Cooper for some super photoshopping.

Thank you Cracked.

Thank you Cracked readers.

This isn’t much of a post. Watch the vid instead.

Well, six people won the HBN Contest, and they each get a scanned version of a Patrick Semple original drawing of me.

The answer? Here are the six songs that I’ve used in the ending credits of Hate By Numbers:

Morphine - The Night
Warren Zevon - Werewolves of London (Episode 4: Kid Rock Edition)
Radiohead - Stop Whispering (Episode 15: Better Than a Baby Murderer)
The Wonder Stuff - Bile Chant (Episode 18: Chuck Norris Edition)
5th Dimension - Age of Aquarius (Episode 19: CNN Finds Another Excuse To Report On Boobs)
Abba - Super Trouper (Episode 24: Japan Fights Economic Crisis with Real-Life LOLcat)

And the winners are:

Blame My People

Grandpapaw

Meg W.

Shana F.

Zack Zarzycki

Megan R. (MJ 89)

Congratulations to you winners. If you still want a signed copy of this pic above, just write me with the email address to send it to.

Moving on.

So this is the penultimate episode. (That means second to last — not “super awesome”).  And with the end so near I’ve been doing some thinking. One thought is about how so many people have commented that Kid Rock (episode 4) is their favorite HBN.  Yet, at the same time, so many people have also said that the show wasn’t any good until recently. See, that makes no sense. That is why most bloggers just don’t read comments. They’re not helpful.

If you’re interested, here’s a list of my top 5 Favorite HBNs and Top 5 Least Favorite HBNs.  Feel free to leave your favs and least favs in the comments.  All the HBNs are listed here. (Except iPhone for some reason. Probably the same reason Kid Rock is listed twice)

Gladstone’s Top 5 Favorite HBNS

1. Psychic Kids

It’s the longest one but doesn’t feel long. I think the beeps and skit both work equally well.  It was my most ambitious episode.

2. Kid Rock

It’s rare that you get fodder this good and I tried to hit it for all it was worth.  The video is very lofi, but this ranks high as the angriest HBN ever and the most deserving of that anger.

3. Twilight

This is probably the best paced episode of HBN. I don’t like rant humor because it’s usually too easy but I felt good about this one.

4. Most Dangerous Science Experiment

Very similar to Psychic Kids, but this ranks lower because I don’t think the beeps are as funny.

5. Jesus Cat

Ian Cooper’s amazing photoshop, CNN and Fox in one episode. And my wife nailing her part as CNN voiceover reporter.

Gladstone 5 Worst HBNs (worst to least worst)

1. Cookie Diet

Not that deserving a topic. I look like hell.  The editing is a little rough. All jokes fine, but no killers. Forced photoshop.

2. iPhone

Experimenting with a different energy. Didn’t like it.  Should have cut two jokes. Bad pacing.

3. Hancock

Botched the superman joke. Most of the gags too easy. However, for one of my least favorite episodes, it does have one of my favorite jokes ever — the one about buying heroin from a child prostitute

4. Nancy Grace

It’s very hard to make a funny joke about Nancy Grace because all I want to do is scream “I HATE YOU!” at the screen.

5. Chuck Norris

HBN is fairly apolitical. This was a deserving entry. Unfortunately, the way the clip panned out it was very hard to edit successfully.

Well that’s it. Tune in next week for the last one. And don’t forget to visit my website and become my Facebook friend so I can share my new adventures (if i have any adventures to share).

Moving on! With only two more episodes left, I thought I’d unleash THE OFFICIAL HATE BY NUMBERS CONTEST. The prize will be an autographed cartoon of me (if Lounsey’s talented, but drunken boyfriend ever gets off his ass and draws it).  If not (and I’m betting on “not” because living with Lounsey is probably a full time job, leaving any person depressed and depleted) I’ll autograph something else.  Perhaps, DOB’s breast. Anyway, here’s the question:

IN TOTAL, 6 DIFFERENT SONGS HAVE PLAYED OVER THE ENDING CREDITS OF HATE BY NUMBERS.  NAME THEM ALL.

DON’T LEAVE  YOUR ANSWERS IN THE COMMENTS. Instead, send them to my Cracked mail or my Facebook mail.

The winner will be announced in next week’s episode.

And lastly, HBN was not cancelled. I’m just taking an extended, indefinte, sabbatical because i’ve neglected my screenplays for far too long. There’s no other immediate project. If there is. I’ll let you all know via Facebook.

Lastly, I renamed my website. Check it out: Kafka Lives In Maine.

Now on to other things. Some of you have asked me about my upcoming indefinite sabbatical from Cracked. Am I really leaving? Yes. Will I ever return? Maybe. Where can you see me next? Well for those of you looking for more Gladstone, you should buy the book The Ultimate Game Guide To Your Life.  And while you’re at it you should also buy Man vs. Weather: Be Your Own Weatherman.  Now it’s true that the first book was actually written by Chris Monks, and the latter was written by Dennis DiClaudio, but here’s the thing: I’m mentioned in the acknowledgements of both books! Isn’t that awesome? So if you buy them you can like totally see my name in print. (And oh, while you’re at it, buy Oh, The Humanity by Jason Roeder. No, that bastard didn’t acknowledge me at all, but he has written for Cracked and was one of us bloggers for literally like a day. So yeah, what the hell.)

So i’m really spent. I put all my effort into the video. Am I letting you down? Maybe. I mean, many of you have said you prefer my writing to my vids. But on the other hand, I’m fairly sure a certain percentage of Cracked’s readers are functionally illiterate. It is in their honor that today I refrain from using, y’know, words.

Except to say a big thanks for Michael R for finding this weeks clip!

I’ve known Jack for over three years now. He lobbied (really unsucessfully) for this piece to be run in the first issue of the ill-fated Cracked magazine relaunch. In the end, a decision was made to go with half-assed photoshops and de-fanged Spy articles instead. But still, how could I not love Jack for that?

Jack understands comedy. He knows how to make suggestions that fall short of directives in the hopes of stoking a creative process. Unfortunately, he does not know how to run a really funny, well done clip on the home page. Actually, that’s not true. After reading last week’s somewhat functionally illiterate responses to Worst HBN Ever, I think he made the right choice. (Psss! I didn’t actually think last week’s HBN was the worst ever when I titled it “The Worst Ever”).

Anyhoo, back to Jack. Know what else Jack does? Works on the weekend. Like this weekend when the wildly talented Ian Cooper couldn’t do the HBN photoshop, Jack and intern Karly both worked to create the needed sight gag. Bless you both. You’re doing God’s work.

Oh, and Jack listens to me bitch. A lot. About a lot of different things. All the time.

So this HBN is dedicated to Jack. Or as Dob calls him, “Jack.” (What, you think DOB’s always on)?
And it’s fitting because this HBN was Jack’s idea, and I even reshot a joke pursuant to his direction. So if you hate it, be sure to message him.

And speaking of the the end to a long wait, I’d like to give a shout out to Kingmonkey and Glendoor 42.  I dont’ know how I got into the shout out business, and, frankly, I’d like to get out of it, but I couldn’t close up shop without mentioning two grown men who admit that they read Cracked.com.  Know what I like most about Kingmonkey and Glendoor?  They’re not functionally illiterate morons. And although they comment a lot, they’re neither trolls nor self-obsessed blowhards. Another good thing? They’re not young women. So when the authorities crack down on me for cruising the barely legal, I can say, “What? No, no, no. This is innocent. I talk to lots of people. Even grown men.”  And even though they’ve never sent me any naked pictures, I still like them.

Speaking of jailbait, today’s shoutout goes to two teenage girls who have absolutely nothing in common except for their alleged (and highly dubious) desire to marry me. If you read the comments (like I do while wearing a velvet robe and sitting in a chair of fine mahogany and leather) you might realize I’m talking about our own Nerdlette and Direwookie. But which to marry?

One lives in Canada (somewhere); the other lives in Texas.
One is a future Greenpeace activist; the other shoots guns and likes Sarah Palin’s style
One looks like Tina Fey’s punk rock niece; the other, the love child of Jamie Lee Curtis and Nicole Kidman.

I can’t decide. I have so many questions: Will their boyfriends mind? How about my wife? And just how illegal would it be for me to even exchange an erotic email with them? (Answer: very, very illegal).

Ultimately, I think this should be decided by cage match, but that’s my answer for everything.

In this space typically reserved for merriment, I’d like to give a shout out to Sam Durfee/Robot Jesus and Starberry. Why? Why not, I already said I wasn’t going to be funny here. Besides they were two of the earliest HBN supporters. Their illegal and barely legal love got me through some dark times in a way that Swaim’s deep tissue massages just couldn’t. Thanks.