So I got an email saying that I was in Maxim Magazine on Page 32. I figured before the other 3 of you email me, I’d clear this shit up because it was written by a dude who got fired from CollegeHumor and CollegeHumor is garbage leading me to believe that someone not good enough to write for them is probably not good enough to write about me - and I was right. I would have obviously preferred to written about from someone who worked and got fired from a more reputable company, Fuck I would have rather been written about by the drunk dude I met at some bar who was writing what I though was a novel on napkins but when I got closer, turned out to be a a doodle of a dog taking a shit on some big breasted slut but that’s just because I appreciated his artistic vision.

Either way, Complex wrote that I was on of the most influential guys of 2008 and a week later Maxim emailed me. They wanted to do an article on the site and I am not an idiot and said yes because in the 90s, I read Maxim and the thought of getting featured in it seemed like a good thing to do even though no one I know has picked up the magazine in the last 5 years, including myself….

I told them that I don’t leave my house and that they’ll have to do the interview with me over the computer. They refused. So I had to find a way to either get to New York which wasn’t about to happen, or send someone in New York who I know to pretend to be me otherwise there’d be no Maxim article and I figured I had to make it happen…because people don’t offer to do articles on me ever.

Now, I am not very popular and don’t know many people so the only guy who could get there was a chubby white mexican dude I’ve known for a while who is 30. He did the interview. I did the follow up over email and they wrote that I don’t really exist but I do and you’re reading me.

The good news is that they legitimized me being a pervert - they made it out to be some new side of the media called Pervarazzi, like writing sleazy shit about sluts is something to be proud of and this justifies everyone I’ve ever sexually harassed or touched inappropriately over the years. If only I knew the name of that girl I who passed out at a party next to me and who made a big deal about it when she woke up with my hand down her pants telling her boyfriend who was in the other room that I was some sick pervert leading him to beat me up, so that I could show them this article and prove that they were just part of research. I feel smart, like a pervert who just figured out showing girls his camera and telling them it was for art, makes them them get naked for art and instead of slapping him in the face for being a pervert. So thanks to Maxim for making all those dark secrets I’ve regretted but still jerk off to mean something more substantial and like I am leading some kind of revolution…..

So this is the Maxim story. I guess it’s a big enough deal but I won’t consider my life a success until you see me in the mexican wrestling mask on The View trying to finger bang Elizabeth under the table, but that’s because I’m a housewife like that. That may just be fiction like Maxim claims I am, but dreams do come true. Cuddles.

So I got an email saying that I was in Maxim Magazine on Page 32. I figured before the other 3 of you email me, I’d clear this shit up because it was written by a dude who got fired from CollegeHumor and CollegeHumor is a piece of shit for loser frat boys leading me to believe that someone not good enough to write for them is probably not good enough to write about me - and I was right. I would have obviously preferred to written about from someone who worked and got fired from a more reputable company, Fuck I would have rather been written about by the drunk dude I met at some bar who was writing what I though was a novel on napkins but when I got closer, turned out to be a a doodle of a dog taking a shit on some big breasted slut but that’s just because I appreciated his artistic vision.

Either way, Complex wrote that I was on of the most influential guys of 2008 and a week later Maxim emailed me. They wanted to do an article on the site and I am not an idiot and said yes because in the 90s, I read Maxim and the thought of getting featured in it seemed like a good thing to do even though no one I know has picked up the magazine in the last 5 years, including myself….

I told them that I don’t leave my house and that they’ll have to do the interview with me over the computer. They refused. So I had to find a way to either get to New York which wasn’t about to happen, or send someone in New York who I know to pretend to be me otherwise there’d be no Maxim article and I figured I had to make it happen…because people don’t offer to do articles on me ever.

Now, I am not very popular and don’t know many people so the only guy who could get there was a chubby white mexican dude I’ve known for a while who is 30. He did the interview. I did the follow up over email and they wrote that I don’t really exist but I do and you’re reading me.

The good news is that they legitimized me being a pervert - they made it out to be some new side of the media called Pervarazzi, like writing sleazy shit about sluts is something to be proud of and this justifies everyone I’ve ever sexually harassed or touched inappropriately over the years. If only I knew the name of that girl I who passed out at a party next to me and who made a big deal about it when she woke up with my hand down her pants telling her boyfriend who was in the other room that I was some sick pervert leading him to beat me up, so that I could show them this article and prove that they were just part of research. I feel smart, like a pervert who just figured out showing girls his camera and telling them it was for art, makes them them get naked for art and instead of slapping him in the face for being a pervert. So thanks to Maxim for making all those dark secrets I’ve regretted but still jerk off to mean something more substantial and like I am leading some kind of revolution…..

So this is the Maxim story. I guess it’s a big enough deal but I won’t consider my life a success until you see me in the mexican wrestling mask on The View trying to finger bang Elizabeth under the table, but that’s because I’m a housewife like that. That may just be fiction like Maxim claims I am, but dreams do come true. Cuddles.