followers | The Dimwit Diary

Wooooooo doggie! It’s been a while since I’ve done one for the ladies and the gay gentlemen, so here you go. Here’s an autographed topless photo of me while out for a jog the other day.

I’m back to running and I haven’t drank for a week. Ladies, it’s worth mentioning that I’m very much single and I’m super awesome at taking out the trash. Totally just kidding. Taking out the trash is the worst. But for the love of God, would one of you girls just marry me already. I haven’t french kissed a girl in like 5 years, and I’m getting tired of making out with my pillow night after night.

Anywho, enough complaining. It’s been a while since I’ve done a proper thank you to you dimwits. I used to do up something special for every milestone: 50 followers, 500 followers, 1,000 followers, 70 gagillion followers, ect. But then somebody brought it to my attention that calling people followers maybe isn’t the best term, because the word follower has some sort of sheepish connotation to it.

You dimwits aren’t sheep. You’re tigers, you’re leaders. You’re wonderful people, so I’ll just leave it at that. I’ll just say thank you for reading however many of you there are, because it means a lot to me. It used to just be my mother reading this damn thing and it got annoying with her commenting all the time, and nobody else (Hey ma, I need to borrow $1,000 pronto. Wire it to my account. Thanks.)

I hate math. I hate it even worse than taking out the trash, but I wanna go over some math with you real quick. I made my first money ever off of writing last month. I put these stupid ads on my blog because I wanna buy a big ass yacht. Guess how much money I earned the first month? A whopping 7 dollars and 33 cents. Woopty do, dinner is on me ladies. Looks like we’ll be eating at Arby’s and we’ll have to share that chocolate milkshake. If there’s any money left over, we can go buy a cookie from Subway. 7 dollars and 33 cents. What a crock.

I got out my calculator. I’ve been writing for about eight years now, so I’ve earned roughly one dollar per year. I’d say over the course of a year, I average writing and Photoshopping about an hour a day. So that’s 365 hours per year. One dollar per year, divided by 365 hours, equals .0027 per hour. Now, keep in mind the big ass yacht that I want to buy costs 65 million dollars.

I did some more math. Math is seriously the worst. I’d rather watch reruns of Lucy than do math. I forget how I came to the answer exactly, but I figured out at this rate, I’d have to write for about 15 billion more hours to be able to afford the 65 million dollar big ass yacht. Sounds about right. What a crock indeed. I think I’m gonna start making candles instead of writing. At least my apartment will smell nice.

No, but seriously, I do enjoy writing and I plan to continue writing in the future as I get time. I know my blog is confusing, and as a result, I’ve lost a lot of folks along the way. Sometimes I write serious, sometimes funny. Sometimes I share sad stories, sometimes I make Photoshop tutorials. Sometimes it’s photos, sometimes it’s videos. For a simpleton, I’m a very complex man. But through all the various writing – up and down, sideways and backwards – some of you have stuck around through the whole thing, and that’s really cool. I appreciate it mucho. So this is my thanks to you.

I don’t like to make promises, but I think I worked a lot of stuff out last month. I’m feeling good, so I think I’ll stick to some really funny writing for a while. I have a bunch of ideas, some old stuff, some new stuff. We’ll just see where the road leads. It better lead me to that big ass yacht. 7 dollars and 33 cents. Hey WordAds, suck it! Take your $7.33 and stick it up your greedy, coroporate arse.

Well, anyway ladies and gay gentlemen. Here’s a bonus video especially for you. It’s a compilation video I made a few years back of my professional modeling photos. I put it to the song “Love Is On the Way” by Saigon Kick. Better get the cold shower ready.

Thanks again you dimwits. Have a nice day. I will do the same.

Well, hells bells and cockle shells. 1,000 followers. 1,000 real, genuine funny, ornery, thoughtful, and real live wire dimwits. Time to break out the good stuff. I usually only reserve the good stuff for when I have to sit through three hours of my sister’s ballet recitals, but this is a real cause for celebration. It’s time to break out the $12 bottle of Kessler. Salute, bottoms up, all that good stuff, and a big cheers to you all.

So you’re maybe tired of hearing it, but I think it’s important to say thanks. It’s a nice word to say: thanks. It just kind of rolls off the tongue nicely, so thanks again to all you dimwits. It really means a lot, and I’ve appreciated all your comments, likes, and nude photographs that you’ve sent to me. I read all your comments, but I don’t always get a chance to respond. But I do try my best, and if I’ve missed one, a thousand apologies. Make that 1,001 just to be safe, and 1,002 if you are a siamese twin. I’m sorry about your luck, but hoping all goes well for you and you.

Check this out, dimwits. By now, we’ve weeded out the kittens from the tigers. And those of you that are still hanging around here are clearly the tigers. Those of you that don’t mind a little cursing, a little jousting, some poking, a little sparing, a lot of madness, and the occasional mention of wiener tucked vaginas. But always in a good, fun way, and always with best intentions, as best an intention a wiener tucked vagina can have, I suppose.

So this is my thanks to the 1,000 followers.

To the tigers, the dimwits, the dingalings, the ding dongs, to the tingleberries. Thanks for having a good old, rip-roaring time with me. It’s been a lot of fun, I hope. Maybe even a few other things that you might’ve needed at that very moment.

So how’s about an autographed African Safari photograph of myself posed as a tiger, wearing Randy Macho Man Savage sunglasses, with a few gents in the background trying to snap off a good shot of the old, ding dong, dingaling, dimwit himself in action. Don’t say I never gave you nothing. You dimwits.

Turned out kinda nice. Perhaps a good one for the high school lockers or the fire place mantle. Anyway, I wanted to give a few plugs. In the rapper community, we lyrical gunslingers like to refer to them as “shout outs.” So here they go. I’ve made the links in separate pop-up menus, so there’s no excuse not to click.

1. The Real Housewives of Lancaster PA – If the title doesn’t do it for you, than the video surely will. Written, acted, and produced by a dear friend, who at one point was my intern on a little, old movie starring Jake Gyllenhaal & Anne Hathaway that you mighta heard of called “Love and Other Drugs.” My talented friend’s real name is Susan Rankus, but I sometimes still like to refer to her as “Hey Intern,” which is what I called her the entire course of the 4 month shoot. And we’re still friends. Check out the video, it’s hilarious. *Spoiler alert* – Amish girl packing dildos in her suitcase.

2. Cancer: My Journey Back to Health-Kicking & Screaming the Whole Damn Way – Yes, well by now the gig is up. It’s true. I’m not a dimwit. Not in the traditional sense of the word, meaning that I’m a dum-dum. I mean, I am a dum-dum. I spend hours writing reviews about unicorns and Ting Tings. Beautiful words, poetic even for a lousy review of an online product on Amazon that nobody will ever see, when I should be penning a classic instead. Who does that nonsense? Dimwits. Dimwits do it. But I also have enough sense to know that when someone is willing to bare their soul for the benefit of others going through a similar struggle, well you’d have to be a true dimwit to pass up an opportunity to give that person a plug. A shout out to you, beautiful, bald-headed Laura Lynn. Kick some ass and take some names.

3. The Boy Hero – Meet Jason. He likes cats, long walks on the beach, orange flavored Gatorade, miniature putt-putt golf, and sculpting totem poles out of western red cedar wood on the weekends. Ladies? Totally just kidding. Made that whole thing up. Told ya I like to tell tall tales. But he does seem like a general, all around good dude. And he’s in the process of writing a few screenplays, so I have to give a nod to a fella’ working in the biz when I can. Go read his stuff pretty please with an orange Gatorade on top. (You better hire my ass, Jason, and make the $50 for the plug made out to CASH.)

Welp, that does it for shout outs this round. If I make to 1,500 maybe I’ll do up another super sexxxy photo. Lord knows I have a million of them lying around. I’ll throw up some more shout outs too, cause I know most of you are trying to get your stuff seen just the same as the majority of us bloggers. I can’t promise, but if you’d like a special Dimwit shout out, send me a link, shoot me a message, and we’ll see if we can’t make it happen.

I do appreciate this whole community aspect about blogging. Scratch my balls, I’ll scratch your balls, or however that saying goes. I appreciate all the shares, reblogs and reading my stories to your poor sap for husbands. It’s really sweet and humbling to me, because I’m just some messy haired guy sitting in his apartment wearing his Tweety Bird boxer briefs, with the shades drawn open nice and wide for all the neighbors to see, writing fictional stories about the Baha Men, ect., and it’s cool when you write words, if you’re able to somehow choose the right ones, they can mean the difference from someone having a sour day or a nice day. I hope you all are having a nice one.

Cheers to ball scratching and to dimwits. I bid thee tigers farewell for now. Go make some noise and wake up those darling kittens. Give the world a shake. Give it a rattle. Have a ball. You might as well. You’re not here for very long. So go have some fun, tigers, and I will do the same….thanks again.

ROOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAARRRRRRRR