"You can't keep doing this, Dan." I couldn't tell if that was an order or just Jack's way of saying he didn't believe in me. Either way, I'd show him.
"No, Dan, I haven't seen the nominationsâ¦though, I'll be honest, I don't see what it has to do with Cracked."
So confident, in fact, that I told all of my friends and family members to check out the nominations before I did. So confident, in fact, that I emailed all of my enemies and told them to suck it, (which was actually okay, because I sort of do that on a daily basis anyway). It was one of these enemies, (who, for the purposes of this column, I'll call "Gladstone"), that pointed out that I
And you know what? Even
When no one responded to my thread and, what's worse, no one corrected what I perceived to be an unfathomable spelling error, I called up Weblog founder Kevin Aylward. Our conversation went something like this:
Most rich kids just want to be pop stars.
How did these hyper-specific tropes spread so quickly?
The Hollywood rumor mill has been playing games with celebrity deaths for at least a century.
It's easy to work the system and win these awards even if you don't deserve them.