Good morning, creatures. It is I, Yola. The toaster has asked me to do something different today (while playing a U2 song, so you know it's not all roses around here. There is suffering and it is occasionally mine. Shut up, Bono). I get a number of time consuming, stupid, blather-headed, vacant, boring, brainless and forgettable questions from the public. I usually have my intern micturate on them while La Davina administers my pedicure. There are only so many hours in the day, people. Multitasking is my meat. But the toaster suggested you might be interested in what I do around here, so let's just get through this, all right?
"Dear Queen of the Universe: Why did you cancel my two-book contract?"
Simple. You suck. Another:
"Dear She Who Must Be Obeyed: My numbers are down. Why doesn't your publicity department do more to promote my book? Don't you love me anymore?"
Honey, that was all over months ago. Didn't you get the memo? Note to self: remodel office. Black is nice.
Google Earth is so good for things like this. Zoom in, aim, and fire. It's clean and completely anonymous. Any idiot intern can download the program and my accountant loves me for it. Really, he does.
"My Beauty, Your eyes are the twelve doors to my soul …"
Now this is very promising. Starts with a hook, gets right to the point, genius use of language. And his contact information is right here.
Okay, I'm bored now. The toaster has already started playing a little Frank and I'm thinking about getting my Thursday on. Boy, hand me that phone.
The Great Record Store Day Swindle
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