Lying For the Shorties

THIS POST IS EXTREMELY CRASS, PLEASE (GRANDMA) DO NOT READ THIS ONE. MAY I SUGGEST YOU GO HERE --> WWW.WEATHER.COM

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SERIOUSLY, PLEASE DONT DO THIS

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NO, REALLY, GO AWAY. IM NOT KIDDING. I MEAN, I KNOW YOULL STILL LOVE ME AND ALL, BUT REALLY.

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ACTUALLY, ANYTHING BAD HERE WAS MY FRIEND'S FAULT. I HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH IT. BLAME HIM. HE DOESN'T GO TO CHURCH.

I get thousands of emails a day. Thousands of adoring readers showing their appreciation for the bright spot this blog has become in their lives, a few (unoriginal) vitrulent attacks spawned from a seething jealously at my effortless badassery, and, not altogether unexpected, demands for the film production rights to my life. These are not new and are normally brushed aside with the flood of marriage offers, but one caught my eye today --- here, in unabridged form, is the request for your perusal --

"Matthew! Baby! Your blogs got that certain something! Gold, baby. Gold! Here in Hollywood, California that's what we've been looking for for a long time, my boy. The kids here? No talent. It's always the same rippling six packs and desperate sexual propositions on the road to fame... It's worn out, kid. But you?! You got something special. Hell, for a movie deal, I'd sleep with you and, kid, I don't often say that. But for you? I'll make an exception. The studio will literally throw any figure at you for the chance to produce your life in movie form. Money's not an object. Drugs? Women? What's your poison, Matt? Badda-bing I can make it happen. The only thing I don't get is what you actually do, kid? I mean, trust me, I know a quality package when I see it *softly pats you on the ass*, but who's the man behind the legend?"

Now, as you can imagine, yours truly is accustomed to habitual displays of genuflection, but this request had that certain balance between obsequiousness and offers of gratuitous amounts of money that so many young, nubile tarts don't yet understand. Also, he emoted a gentle pat upon my ass within the email which threw me for a loop, but I just figured it was the Hollywood in him. Hell, from all I've heard about that place Im sure he was surrounded by midgets serving lines of coke off of mirrors balanced on their heads and he was so hopped up on Red Bull and Quaaludes he actually thought he was cupping one of my supple cheeks. Beats me.

Anyway, I sent a email back to Mr. Happy-Hands telling him about my day jobs as an adventure ice climber/contract astronaut with forays into moonlighting as a lunar cartographer and heres the cheek I get in response--

"Matthew...Matthew... that's great and all. Rock climbing on Mars or whatever. Believe me, I'm impressed. But we're selling to the everyman here. Here in Hollywood, California our job is to trick these peons into thinking that they have a fucking thing in common with superstars and model goddesses who wouldn't even look that trailer trash in the eye. We need something a little more down to Earth. Stuff those red-state fucks are gonna eat out of the palm of my fucking hand. Badda-bing. God, I love my life. You like brandy, kid? I'll send you over a bottle. Anyway, point is, we need something more in tune with the common man. Whatcha got for me, baby?"

I feel the need to translate for you, so here it is -- he wanted me to lie. TO LIE. A large part of my appeal is the fact that its all happening (er, baby)! Its all in real time!!! So what can one do? I told him the truth - Im too noble to lie. Its true.

"Can't lie? ...*laughs for several minutes*... Listen, kid. I get what you're saying. It's real honorable. We can definitely spin that into a nod from the Academy later on. But let's cut the shit for a minute. We're just guys talking here. Two average Joes. And what I'm telling you is this... the movie business is about giving people a dream -- the will to keep going. Honesty doesn't sell. You think good ever triumphs over evil? You think the guy gets the girl? That ain't life, baby. But people don't want the truth. John Q. Jackass would take one look at your life and go shoot himself. What we're doing here is bigger than just you and me. It's for the kids, man. The cancer patients. And for them? Yeah, here in Hollywood, we lie. For the kids. I tell 'em Santa Claus is real and named Tim Allen. So, don't do it for me, babe. Do for those cancer wards. The ones with clowns and balloons and Playstations. Yeah... Yeah... That's right."

And you know what? That touchy-feely-sonufabitch had a point. It is my moral obligation - NAY - my patriotic duty as a red-meat-eating-native-born-American to give hope to those who have none. Those little kids in the cancer wards. So I do this for you, wee cancer tots. I lie here so you may relate to my life. I lie to give you hope. I lie to give you happiness. I lie to expand my bank account. God, I love my life.

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I'm whats known here as an informaticien. This means next to nothing in West Africa, seeing as if you can use Word and surf the web you are a West-African-Certified-Informaticien. Its not so hard to be an expert here. I work with principally two organizations here -- The University of Lome and Cafe Informatique. Cafe Info is one of the largest privately owned businesses here and is the largest ISP and the second largest cell provider in country.

Im working on a 5 year "state of technology throughout Togo" action plan to present to the government. I actually have about as much of an idea about what Im doing here as I do about lunar cartography.

At the university Im working to install a cyber cafe using only linux -- this is tougher than it sounds--

See those two black computers? Those are the University web site and email server. High tech here, folks, high tech.

So, my faithful public, thats just about all I do. I look at computer screens all day and work through email in a country where most of my colleagues don't have electricity and pee in dirt holes. I also drink cheap wine and cheese whenever possible. Thats class.

If you know whats going on here, put down the bag of cheetos and go outside and get some sun, NOW.

* with David Newstead contributing. He's originally from Ninety-Six, SC and has never actually been to Hollywood. California. Baby. He will still sleep with you, though.