I’m starting to scare myself.

My descent into madness began at an early age. When I saw the world for what it was on that long ago and immediate star-filled night. Dripping, naked, with bared teeth. I looked into its eyes and saw no empathy. A wall of apathy. No reason nor the care to reason. Just a huge, hungry emptiness.

Fast forward to now (we can do that through the power of imagination). I was selected to appear in But Did You Die? and I seized the opportunity to leave my mark on this world. It was my chance to step up on the stage.

I didn’t want to squander this platform. I mustered up all my wisdom and crafted a post to improve the mental health of future generations by offering The Cure for Parenthood. The clarion alarm to all the childless people of the world. Don’t be like us. Nurture your inner passions. Raise your standard of living. Teach yourself about the wonders of the world. But don’t bring kids into your mess. Do you for you.

Get the book, read my treatise, and pass along to those who still have a shot at happiness.

Getting into the book rewired me. Maybe it was the anxiety that came with bracing for the sudden onset of fame. Knowing I could count on interest in the book to generate tens of page visits a day to this blog. It was too much too soon. I was dizzy with the idea that I was going to be super famous. I had to start acting famous. But I couldn’t afford limos or cocaine.

I scrambled to promote the book and since I’m incompetent and scattered, all my energy went toward making mistakes. I’m like the clown who rushes to his first child’s birthday party gig. Sweating in the July heat. Greasepaint running over a melting face. Red painted lips dripping a mouthful of blood. Bursting through the door to make a big entrance, to delight the children,  and creating 20 untreatable cases of coulrophobia instead.

Lucky for you, I filmed my downward spiral.

The following are a series of commercials I filmed to promote But Did You Die? I did all of these on my own and Jen Mann’s lawyers want me to tell you that these “commercials” in no way reflect the opinions or values of Jen Mann, Throat Punch Media, or anyone affiliated with said entities. I am solely responsible for the content of these videos. If anyone feel triggered or offended please do not call Jen.

With my legal requirement out of the way, let us proceed.

They start off cute enough. Relatively safe and somewhat creative.

 

And people liked that one. I was encouraged. It’s not good to encourage me.  You see what happens when I get encouraged, I kinda lose my mind.

And immediately take my shirt off:

And get so full of myself that I think people need to see a “director’s cut” of my idiocy:

 

No one liked those. I began to doubt myself. It’s not good when I begin to doubt myself. You see what happens when I doubt myself, I freak out and transform into Whiskey Santa:

 

That commercial prompted one friend of mine to do a wellness check with me on Facebook.

Then I discovered some Snapchat filters and these happened. I’m not going to try to explain or defend myself. The videos say everything:

 

I don’t know how to end this post after all of that. Can we just both walk away? I know it feels abrupt. I’m sorry.

 

Buy But Did You Die?  Help fund my journey to wellness.

4 Comments

  1. I was right. You are getting scary. How’d the wellness check turn out? All were funny! Good luck on the sales!

    • jeffandjill

      07/09/2017 at 2:37 pm

      I was able to respond to the wellness check and my friend didn’t pursue it. It was more of an “oh well” check.

      • I think you were me in another life, you know the one where I had balls? You are a trip, going to get your book. Hope you get enough monies for more therapy. LOL

        • jeffandjill

          07/11/2017 at 9:14 am

          Well, you couldn’t have been me if you had balls. Because I have no balls. Jill had them in her purse but then she misplaced them and short story long, I have no balls.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.

*