Thursday, July 21, 2011

WTFAQ

One of the things you're supposed to have when you're a beloved and widely read blogger is an FAQ or "About Me" section on your blog. But I decided I should have one, too.

Of course, since I don't even use my real name here (first question: Is Chuck Baudelaire your real name? Answer: Right, I'm 19th-century French poet Charles Baudelaire come back from the dead to rant about candy bars), one might surmise that I desire a modicum of anonymity. One would be right. Mostly because I don't want my employer to find out I do most of my writing during working hours, having been hired to fill a position for which no job duties were actually established. Really. It'll all be in my book (second question: Do you hope to write a book based on your blog? Answer: Nobody who writes a blog wants to become a published author. Duh. Are you from Mars or tiny Montenegro or something?)

There's also the issue that very few people ask me any questions ever, let alone frequently. I'm universally reviled, apparently. But this is America, and I'm not going to let the lack of frequently asked questions keep me from answering them. So I stole a bunch from other sites I enjoy. Just the questions, not the answers. I'll provide the answers here, thank you very much. I don't much care what other people think. This is the key to my enduring popularity on the blogosphere - my charming and gracious nature. (You can't see it, but I'm making a very rude gesture now.)

I'll get around to posting these questions and answers to a separate FAQ page. In the meantime, here are several things you didn't even realize you were dying to know about me. Oh, and links to the pages whence I nicked them. Oh, and some of the answers are lies. Read on.

"Always Drunk" Frequently Asked Questions/About Me

Do you have any advice on writing a blog? (http://cakewrecks.blogspot.com/)

For God's sake, learn to spell. Also, know the difference between "it's" and "its," or you'll bug the hell out of those of us who do. Write what you love and success will follow, although it helps to remember that the most popular websites feature pictures of women dressed as anime characters or fat people swapping Halo cheat codes. And they will never, ever click on the link to your adventures in homemade jam-making.

You obviously have a liberal bias. (http://www.joshreads.com/)

Conservatives think I'm liberal, liberals think I'm conservative. The truth is I'm mentally ill and unable to form a coherent world view. That's right, when you disagree with me, you're mocking my handicap. Asshole.

If I submit a photo, will it be posted? (http://www.awkwardfamilyphotos.com/)

No one has ever submitted a photo to me, so I have no idea. Probably. I mean, sure, why not? Can I draw a mustache on it first? That would be fun.

Green olives or black olives? (http://craftinessisnotoptional.com/)

Olives are disgusting in any color.

How long does it take you to carve a pumpkin? (http://www.pumpkingutter.com/)

True story: Every year at Halloween we buy one of those cheap pumpkin carving sets with the skinny knives and a little book of carving designs that absolutely cannot be created using them. Every year we wash off the knives and put them away so we can use them again next Halloween. And every year we can't find the damn things and have to buy a new set. Somewhere in my house there must be 300 of these flimsy serrated pumpkin carvers. They're the perfect size for rats to use as tiny swords, so if the rats ever decide to revolt, I'm afraid they'll be well-armed. I know that one time I used a pumpkin carver to cut my Siamese kitten out of the garage wall after she got stuck in there - long story. I'm pretty sure that one got lost, too.

I've never timed myself carving a pumpkin, so I don't know how long it takes.

My favorite variety of GOOD SEASONS Salad Dressing Mix is no longer available at my local grocery store. What happened? (www.kraftbrands.com/goodseasons)


Holy crap, there are millions of people who don't have fresh water and die from mosquito bites and little girls who aren't allowed to read or write, and you're all up in my face because one of the other 37 varieties of goddamn salad dressing mix still on the shelf isn't good enough for you? You sicken me. Seriously. You should ask the store manager if the kind you want can be special ordered.

Why should I buy local? (http://www.somarylandsogood.com/)

It doesn't make a lot of sense to drive three hours to buy a gallon milk instead of popping down to the corner convenience store, for one thing. Also, if you don't buy some local person's cheese or soap or quaint decorative item, they are never going to stop nagging you about it, whereas the cheap labor in Phnom Penh is not going to send you a thank-you note for purchasing the products that keep it in perpetual economic slavery. Kind of a no-brainer, really.

Why don't you have a donation button? (http://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com/)
 
I don't want money. I want power. And that can't be donated, but only violently torn from the regime that wields it. At least that's what PayPal told me right before they blocked my e-mail address.
 
Do you have legs? (http://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com/)
 
As far as you know.
 
How do you handle critics of your work? (http://www.craftychica.com/)
 
WHO DARES CRITICIZE MY WORK? Kidding! I welcome constructive criticism. As for how I handle it, I find that curling up into a fetal position for 16 hours, burning everything I've ever written, and drinking until I puke are effective outlets for the perfectly normal levels of anxiety I sometimes experience upon being critiqued. 
 
What exactly is wrong with your brain? (http://overflowingbrain.com/)
 
Why, what have you heard?
 
Do you offer studio tours? (http://www.foxnews.com/)
 
I used to, but the people who owned the studio got really upset. Now I live like a hermit, shunning human contact. It may seem as if I'm going out to eat with my family or posting things on my Facebook page, but I hire stand-ins for those things. Meanwhile, I'm holed up in my room, watching the world by endlessly cycling through the vast network of surveillance cameras I've hacked into. I eat crackers and cry. My fingernails have grown to alarming lengths. And all because of those damned studio tours. I hope you're happy, local CBS affiliate!
 
Why do bad things happen to good people? (http://sovietdisco.com/)
 
Oh, I'm here to tell you that bad things happen to bad people, too. The good people don't get to have all the fun. Of course, sometimes good things happen to bad people, and I guess that's equally unfair. If you're expecting an insightful, reassuring answer, you've obviously started reading this FAQ at the wrong end.
 
 
Hey, all of those websites are real! Support them! Yes, even Fox News. The world needs fringe opinions, too.

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