I wrote the following while battling a nasty ass flu. It's all just random thoughts. I make no apologies. Actually, one apology. I've seen the script to
Swaim's Internet Party 3
and on behalf of Cracked I'd like to offer my deepest apologies.
So I gotta tell you. This Hate By Numbers
took a lot out of me. As you'll see it's more involved than any I've done previously. And now I'm tired. And I'm sick. I was suppose to go to New Jersey and help DOB pack, but I called him last night to let him know I was too ill for the journey. (Also, the only reason I offered to help in the first place was to sneak a pound of coke into his luggage so he'd be detained at the airport. But then I learned he was driving so...)
Anyway, I'm on my couch now, battling a cold, feeling like complete ass and wondering if i have anything amusing to say. Not really wondering. My throat is on fire. I have nothing amusing to say. Unless, you count me wishing that Wolinsky had this sore throat instead of me, but that's not that funny. Well, if you picture his beard it's a little amusing.
What else can I tell you? Oh yeah,
THE THEME SONG OF HATE BY NUMBERS IS THE NIGHT BY MORPHINE. EVERYONE GET THAT?
What else? Oh, why do I respond to criticism? Several of you have asked me that. Good question. The answer: Because I'm a jackass. I'm the guy who gets pissed off by lots of stuff and categorizes it by number. Am i supposed to have the maturity to ignore trolls who attack me directly? Well, in any event, believe it or not. I'm getting better. And what can I say? I'm a chatty Cathy, and I enjoy the interaction with most.
What else? OH! Danny Gallagher, who used to write a bunch of stuff for The