If you're reading
this, (and it's metaphysically absurd to suppose you are not,
since if not read, has the preceding phrase even existed for
you?) chances are you know who I am. If this is the first Max
Burbank article you've ever read, congratulations. You are
getting on board at a great time. That sounded more sexy than I
meant it too, but you get the picture. Actually, more sexual, I
suppose. I don't really find the phrase 'get on board' very
sexy, but if you do, who am I too judge?
It has recently come to my attention via a series of bills with
red markings indicating they are not the first copies I've
received, calls from creditors, day glow orange notices attached
to my front door and the occasional demands to come in from
suited gentleman I do not know that I am in something of a
financial pickle. Back 'in the day' I solved problems like this
in a number of creative ways. Sleeping in cars, sometimes my
own, sponging off family, friends, and state run mental
institutions, fleeing in the night, petty crime, the occasional
murder. Unfortunately, 'respectability' really puts the 'kibosh'
on that kind of problem solving. Encumbered as I now am with a
wife, two daughters, a mortgage, medication paid for by health
insurance without which I become convinced that I am the
personal Valet of Martin Van Buren (President Number Eight, of
whom the official Whitehouse website's historical sections says,
"Only about 5 feet, 6 inches tall, but trim and erect," a phrase
which delayed the completion of this article for nearly an hour
while I giggle liked a Japanese school girl over the use of the
word 'erect' because of it's association in my mind with getting
boners) and Parole, I can no longer simply 'make a run for it'.
Christ, I hope you are still reading.
Suffice it to say, I need greenbacks bad. A whole lot of them.
As I see it, there are three ways, which I call the 'easy', the
'hard' and the 'highly unlikely' which I'll start with to get it
out of the way.
I COULD GET A
I have it on pretty good authority that a 'second job' is even
more like work than the first one. As long time readers will
know, I hate work. It makes me feel common. If not for the money
I would never even consider it. As far as a second job goes; 1.)
It would have to pay a lot, because I need a lot of money. The
Night Manager position at my local Walgreens is open, but though
I possess the two most important qualifications (I speak English
and I am not clinically retarded), I have no intention of
applying. It pays chump change. Secondly, Many jobs I would
apply for, such as being fondled by a series of well educated,
attractive college girls for a lot of money and great benefits
including dental, don't exist. And C.) , 'Moonlighting' is only
fun until Cybil Sheppard and Bruce Willis do it which is what
you thought you wanted, but it just sucks after that. That, my
friends, is how old I am.
GIVE ME MONEY
This is the easy way. Take me up on this and we can both stop
now. You can stop reading, I can stop writing. Trust me, the
hard way will require a great deal of effort on both are parts,
and if you're anything like me, effort gives you hives and no
matter how many four leaf clovers and lucky rabbit's feet you
have, no attractive, well educated college girls will come down
to the basement and rub soothing medicated ointment on you. So
why not pony up a little of the long green? Seriously, get with
the dead presidents. Give me money. As much as you can. At the
end of this article you will find a way to email me. If you send
a good faith email, I will send you my mailing address so you
can mail me money. I think the fact I'm willing to do this after
that whole unpleasantness with government of Nigeria shows just
how much I believe in you. I think that's worth some of your
money. I'm a realist, though, and that means I'm aware that the
chances of my making five dollars off this gambit are slim to
the point of delusion and that I have just wasted the time it
took to type this section, time I will never get back. If I hate
you a little bit for that, you have only yourself to blame. You
know what could smooth things over? Some of your money.
Okay. If you're still with me, you're ready for the hard way.
The time has come for the launch of…
For my part, Brand
Max Burbank is not very different from what I'm already doing,
i.e. writing funny articles which I am sometimes paid a small
amount for by very nice people who have been doing way more than
their fair share supporting me and passing the benefits on
FOR FREE to you, my readers. I like to call this 'Pearls
Before Swine', not because this phrase is original to me,
but because it makes me laugh to call you pigs and imply that
you are stupid. Don't get upset, if you'd just taken the easy
way and given me money, you'd have never have needed to read all
the way to the part where I called you a stupid pig. You chose
the hard way. Blame yourself.
When you're done, roll up your sleeves, because the bulk of the
work of launching BRAND MAX BURBANK
falls to you. Yes, spreading awareness of BRAND MAX BURBANK
is your job and it's going to take a LOT of elbow grease,
and not the sexy kind.
What follows is a
list of things you need to do. Why? It's simple. For my
daughters, two sweet young girls aged 11 and 6 who are in now
way to blame for the financial and legal troubles I find myself
in, but who will suffer for it more than even I will, because
unlike their Dad (me, I think) their brains are undamaged by
years of abuse and so are unable to escape crushing poverty via
lengthy and detailed hallucinations about being 'King' of 'Sexy
If you believed that, read no further! As a treat you can rest
your weary eyes and skip ahead to the section labeled "YOUR
MARCHING ORDERS". If you don't believe it, well, what kind
of an idiot would? I need money because the best Internet porn
sites are not free, and neither are the lawyers you need if you
frequent the kind of pay sites I'm thinking of. Also, I'm
thinking of getting one of those 'grills' funky rich African
Americans are so find of, and all my credit cards are maxed out.
Am I thinking of the right thing? A 'grill'? It's like big, ugly
braces, but it's totally elective and usually made of expensive
metals? I hope it doesn't cut my lips. I hate cut lips.
Here is a simple set of instructions that will enable you to
spread the word of BRAND MAX BURBANK and eventually
bestow on me a level of celebrity that is invariably coupled
1.) READ MY
STUFF. Simple, right? You're doing it now. Just don't miss
anything. Be slavish in your devotion, you might as well start
now, it will get you in practice for many of the next steps.
Well, all of them really.
2.) ENJOY MY
STUFF. You might think this is up to you, since humor is
subjective. You would be wrong. Think back to that Martin Van
Buren Boner joke I made a few paragraphs ago. Funny as hell,
right? In order to properly proselytize BRAND MAX BURBANK
You need to think everything I write is funny. Which shouldn't
be hard, because it is. I mean, come on. 'Boner'? Priceless.
MY STUFF. You need to tell everyone about how funny my stuff
is. I don't just mean people you share an interest in comedy
with or your hapless family, who have grown accustomed to at
least hearing you. I mean every person you come in contact with.
In the beginning, people will think you're a little crazy, but
that will stop as soon as they become certain of it. At the end
of the day, it benefits me, so ask yourself, why should Max
Burbank Care? Ooooooh, I like the sexy way you're thinkin'!
4.) EMAIL MY
STUFF TO EVERYONE YOU KNOW. For BRAND MAX BURBANK
to truly take off, it's got to be viral. I have no idea what tat
means and in fact it sounds kind of gross, but 'Wired' magazine
says it's important and they still publish a print magazine even
though the Internet turned to shit right after I climbed on
board. That sounded sexier than I meant it to, except for the
part about something I'm 'on board' turning to 'shit'. Unless
you're into that, which is wrong, but I don't care about your
whole deal as long as you are vigorously promoting BRAND MAX
to all your horrid little 'dirt road' friends. I mean,
seriously, think of all the stupid crap people email each other.
Jokes, lists, Pictures from Sexy Kitty Island, quizzes to see
which Star Trek character you'd be if THERE WERE ANY SUCH
THING WHICH THERE ISN'T, HELLO? You can email links to my
stuff, cut and paste whole articles, whatever.
5.) MENTION ME
ON YOUR 'MYSPACE' PAGE. Oh my God, you want to know how
'old' and 'out of touch' I am. I thought 'MySpace' was strictly,
like, an on line meat coral for middle aged perverts. I mean,
hell, that's all I ever used it for. But apparently, it's some
whole kind of 'networking' dealio, and as such, a great place to
promote BRAND MAX BURBANK
6.) START A
WEBSITE ABOUT 'BRAND MAX BURBANK'
Seriously. There are web sites about every stupid ass thing
under the sun. It's pretty clear the entire world is on a
rollercoaster to hell since all you 'kids' don't do anything
with your time but make stupid ass websites about shit nobody
cares about, so if you can't take the time to make one about
BRAND MAX BURBANK,
well, forgive me if I'm just a little bit insulted. I'd make one
myself, but THAT sounds like a second job, which I
believe I've already called 'Highly Unlikely'
7.) MAKE AND
SHARE A LOT OF 'BRAND MAX BURBANK'
MERCHANDISE. Like making a website, this is nothing I
have the time or interest to do, so I need you to do it. Pitch
in. Do you think Tommy Hilfiger got to where he is today without
thousands of little malnourished Asians crammed into sweat shops
scrawling his stupid name on everything like a megalomaniacal
toddler on a crayon spree? No. He did not. And neither will I.
You, dear readers, are my little malnourished Asian women. In a
few years, when BRAND MAX BURBANK
has really taken off, I'll be sure to send you a
'cease and desist' letter as a thank you note.
8.) COPY AND
DISTRIBUTE THIS ARTICLE
Post it anywhere on the Internet you can. Make hard copies and
staple them to telephone poles and stray dogs. Make stencils of
the BRAND MAX BURBANK
image and spray them on Mailboxes, buses, playground equipment,
all the recovering drunks and alcoholics at your court mandated
twelve step program, where ever.
9.) DO NOT
THINK I AM KIDDING. Sure, this article has been hilarious,
especially that whole thing about Martin Van Buren's boner, but
I am totally serious. I need to get famous, and at almost 45,
overweight, white and male, I'm in what the actuarial tables
label the 'suddenly drops dead' quadrant. Chop chop, little
monkeys! Make haste and be a part of making BRAND MAX BURBANK
famous! You'll never taste the heights I'm destined to reach,
but you'll live vicariously through me by knowing that in your
own small way you helped me get out of debt and SAVED MY TWO
YOUNG DAUGHTERS FROM A LIFE OF CRUSHING POVERTY.
So until I issue my next instructions, I remain...
King of Sexy Kitty Island.
If you enjoyed this piece, be sure to check out:
The Junk Drawer of My Despair!