Since my column only runs every other week, I don't always get the chance to chime in or harmonize or resonate or what have you with whatever is the "theme," if you will, of a particular episode of Baltimore's Onliest Alternative Paper Weekly that is also pixellated onto the Universal Resource Locator of the citypaper dot-to-the-com, and last week was a non-Wrong week for me, columnwise, but it was also the "Top Ten" week, one of my favoritest compositional themes, because you get to, like, poop out a list of stuff (people like Things about Stuff), put 'em in bold type, use your opinions, and then presto-poof-voilà you are done, and if you work it right, you gets paid.
Check out this warmup exercise:
See? Isn't it fun to think about Chicken? Don't you kinda want some chicken, or at least some new product with dipping sauce now? Something fried maybe? Whatever, I keep hoping I can get a sponsor for my "Top Ten" items, because I would totally believe in almost any product if it wasn't (to my knowledge, at press time) illegal, but I don't have any sponsors yet, so now is my "Top Ten" of the year Two Thousand Double-O Seven, which really shoulda run last week, and that brings me to my first 10th of a column, namely: having a weekly column, seriously.
I'm sick of this every-other-week crap, so if you have a "hole" (that's newspaper talk for "space") and you are interested in filling it with column, please note my second item of this year's "Top Ten," which is getting paid, because I really dig on that hard and deep, almost as much as I used to dig on the Subway Sub Club until they kicked everybody out of it, which two years later still pisses me off because I was only two stamps away from getting a half of a foot-long tuna on wheat, with provolone, lettuce, tomato, green pepper, red hots, and salt and pepper put on my sub in that exact order as I slid my feet sideways with my hands almost touching the Subway spit guard, watching the Subway Sandwich Conductor lay plastic-coated mitts on my toppings, but now I totally boycott Subway until they do a Sub Club Amnesty or something. Really, man, I bet I'm not the only estranged and disillusioned Sub Clubber holding an almost-full stamp card, hah?
Anyway, if you have a place to put Weekly Wrong, why don't you just go ahead and contact me at my exciting new e-mail address, which is coincidentally my next "Top Ten" of stuff, the Google, of which the real motherfuckin' Gmail is a subsidiary, or Googlet, or whatever-of, and it's like, you can check your Gmail without having to know how to do anything, and when you are reading your Gmail, which can also be all your other a-b-c-d-and-e-mail if you want, you get advertisements, but they are just little lines of words and not flashing-blinking-moving boxes of crap or a big stupid box that hogs up your whole fucking screen and then you think you are clicking on it to close it but it's a trap and now I am looking at the real fake Rolex site I already looked a buncha times because I dig fake Rolex, and in case I didn't set that one up already as a "Top Ten" item, I bet you already figured it out because it was in bold lettering and you are a smart reader, or at least a reader of the Mr. Wrong column, which is available to not just newsprint papers, but any form of communication you got, man, seriously, as long as you have money, because I keep reading about this whole newspaper thing being, like, over and stuff because, I dunno, only old people read newspapers or something like that, and errbody else reads Teevee (myself included), or The Internet, or even video games like that new Wii thing that almost looks like you could get exercise playing because you move your arm or something, huh? I saw this one game (while I was reading Teevee) where you balance plates, but not really, you just hold your Wii-thing a certain way, but that's using muscles way more than a regular video game thing, right? Anyway, so no offense to newspapers or anything, but this every-other-week thing is not very "Top Ten," you know? I gotta get paid, man, I mean, I like getting paid so much I keep bolding it.
812 Park Ave.
Baltimore, MD 21201