O'Briographicon: The Wave of the Future
Granted, Biographicon has an editor or two that regularly checks to make sure no one is writing anything too awful or inaccurate, and generally these editors have a good eye for spotting false information and, usually, the offending information is soundly deleted.
But not always.
Me personally? I'm kind of into this Biographicon. I mean, I'm famous enough that Tina Fey will drastically change her mind in order to have sex with me, but not quite famous enough to end up in Wikipedia just yet. Until those Wikipedia fat cats realize that I do belong on their stupid site for jerks, Biographicon will have to do. Finally, I'll have a page that details my whole life history. I couldn't create a page myself, though, (I'm far too busy and important, of course). So, I enlisted the help of Cracked.com's Head Editor, Jack O'Brien.
"Jaquille O'Neil, I think we need to create a Biographicon entry for me. The sexiest fucking entry that stupid site has ever seen." I told him when I entered his office this morning. "Don't call me that." I was going to call him that again, I could just feel it. I paced around his office, shouting out ideas as they came to me. "It's got to be great, I told him." I tossed a pen to him. Or at him. Whatever. "Start writing. Write 'Daniel Joseph O'Brien was born in the Eighties in a little place just East of None-Of-Your-Fucking-Business. His mother was a Saint and his father is Optimus Prime. Nicknamed The Archbishop of Hip Hop, Daniel is a full-time blogger and a full-time Porking-Enthusiast.'…Actually, 'Porking Enthusiast' sounds a little sleazy. How about 'The Jesus Christ of Boning'? Is 'The Jesus Christ of Boning' taken, as a title, or can that be mine? Yeah. Write that down. 'Daniel O'Brien is The Jesus Christ of Boning. When not boning or blogging, (which is rare), Daniel can be found playing racquetball, at which he is adequate.' Are you getting this, Jack Morris?" "First of all, don't call me that. Second of all, no, I haven't been writing anything. You didn't even throw me a pen, this is a pretzel log." He held out the pen which was, indeed, a pretzel log. I took a bite. Jack started going through some papers on his stupid desk. "Actually, Dan, while we're on the subject, Ethan Herdrick, the founder of the site, has been sending us emails. I think he'd really prefer it if you stayed away from Biographicon for a while. He says you've been posting some false and negative information on
"It's sick, Dan, really, and it needs to stop. The Mabisms, the threatening letters you've been sending her, everything. Did you seriously get someone to record an anti-Hannah-Montana Heavy Metal song?" I remained silent on the matter, though, if I had spoken up, I'd have pointed out that it's definitely a progressive metal song. There's a difference. An awesome difference. "Look, Jack-a-Mole, I don't know anything about anyone's profile other than my own. Which, by the by, you still haven't written. Now, where was I? 'Daniel O'Brien, a