Here are some articles I wrote on other sites this week! Let me know what you think!
About two weeks ago I got into an ATV accident and broke my shoulder (An ATV is a four wheeled, small vehicle people ride to guarantee hurting themselves). I’ve since had to wear a sling and it’s changed my life for the better.
Suddenly I’m very popular. Like how people who had Segways when they first came out were popular, even though that’s not the case anymore (Segway is a two wheeled vehicle people ride to guarantee ridicule). Everyone wants to talk to me and ask me whats’ going on. Even strangers. Especially strangers, actually.
The other day a really cool looking guy in a wife-beater and red pajama pants stumbled up to me on the street asking, “when did that happen?” as if we’d known each other forever, or at all. It almost made the constant pain worth it.
Talking about it can get pretty exhausting, but I’m getting pretty good at responding. I feel the way actors must when they go on a press junket. At first they’re really self-conscious and nervous about their answers, but then they get so sick of answering the same questions over and over so they start coming up with really confident, creative answers.
It’s not that I’m lying to anyone about what happened. I’ve just been trying out different inflections or attitudes. Like a really weathered, “been here before” tone, like a soldier shot for the hundredth time (in total, not in a row. For obvious reasons). That one is my favorite.
For some people I play up the sadness and horror, and for others I’ve even been known to try a really jovial way. Like how Santa might act if he broke his shoulder.
I’ve enjoyed it so much that I’ve even started to wear my more complex, sleeping sling out in public, even though I don’t even need it anymore. It’s five pieces and makes the injury look 10x worse. To be honest, I don’t even need to wear the normal sling anymore. I wear it more to ward off any hard pats on the shoulder, or to avoid getting beat up. I’m not 100% sure on the psychology of people who beat people up, but I assume that there’s some kind of code to leave people with slings alone. There’s no sport to it.
I think a lot of it has to do with the way I look. I mean, people walk around with slings and injuries all the time and don’t get the attention I get (I’m assuming). I even avoid people with injuries. They just don’t feel safe to be around.
Here’s my theory: People will treat a guy wearing a sling totally differently if he’s wearing a suit opposed to wearing a Monster Energy Drink shirt. Not that I wear a suit all the time, or at all, but my style leans more on the side of suit than it does Monster Energy Drink shirt. I never had the nerve to buy one. Seems like something you should get for free.
Being a clean-cut, well dressed man, people must assume I was attacked, or a victim of some unfortunate accident. As if it somehow wasn’t my fault that I ran an ATV into a tree. I guess the lesson is, if you comb your hair to the side like a British boy, and wear button-up shirts (not button-down shirts. That’s a different thing), you’re admonished of all guilt when it comes to personal injury.
Once I’m fully healed, I can see myself continuing to wear the sling every once and a while. Maybe one day I’ll even get so good at wearing my sling that I’ll make up a more interesting story on how it happened, or wear a Monster energy drink shirt. It couldn’t hurt. Not anymore than running an ATV into a tree.
I am pleased to release the introduction chapter of my book on my blog! It’s got a couple of jokes in it, you know. No big deal. You can also download it in PDF if that’s what you’re into. Let me know what you think, and pass it along to your friends and enemies.
The book is an adventure comedy about an aspiring TV personality who gets recruited by the CIA to be a distraction, but things quickly get out of hand when he forces himself into their mission and is thrust into saving the world.
My name is Topher Weyland, and if you’re reading this I’m already dead.
Assuming you’re reading this 50+ years after I’ve written it, because I’d be far too old to still be alive. Unless, of course, they’ve made some kind of robot body to put my consciousness in after my human body withers and dies. Then you have to ask, is it really even me anymore?
But those aren’t the questions we’re going to ask or answer in this book. Well, maybe we will ask them later. I can’t say. It never made much sense to me to write the intro after you’ve written the book, and I don’t like playing by the rules. Not even my own. Either way, we definitely won’t answer those questions.
This book is going to be filled with lessons, which are a lot like rules except you don’t have to follow them. Avoid rules. They’re too constraining. There’s no rule book for life, right? If there was, a million idiots would probably buy it.
I love lessons, because unlike rules, you can’t be punished for not following them. My favorite thing about life is you can keep repeating your mistakes until you’re dead or you get a girl pregnant. Luckily I’m sterile, but you’ll learn about that later.
I’d like to say I’m an every man, but I’m not. I’m the type of guy who can’t be grouped in a “type of guy” classification. I’m one-of-a-kind. The purpose of this book is to reach out to the one, or maybe two other men out there who are also one-of-a-kind. (And to gloat about my accomplishments, of course.)
This book will explore the very nature of what it means to be a human. A human man named Topher Weyland. From Sunnyvale, California. Social security ending in 6578.
If you’re curious about how I look, here is a picture of me a computer might make:
Here is a picture of me a small child made:
(Just kidding. I drew it, but in the style of a small child. That’s how talented I am)
I’m about to tell you biggest adventure of my life, which has been “my life.” Hell, it’s all been an adventure, right? Even if I’ve only been in one high-speed chase… a day. I’ll also throw in a couple of lessons along the way. The kind of lessons the one person this book is written for can learn from.
For good measure. Here are a couple of lessons everyone can learn from:
Follow me on my journey from a child, to becoming the hottest up-and-coming television personality, to an American spy, to an astronaut, to a sex slave, and all the way back again.
By the end of this book, I promise, you will have read the whole thing.
Let me know what you think and if you’d like to see more chapters. I’ll definitely post more if there’s more demand.
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I have food.
I have shelter.
I can protect you from the Blood Ravens.
I won’t rape you.
Want to get out of here? (followed by a double suicide.)
Is that a knife, or are you just happy to see me? (it’s a knife and the person stabs you with it, taking your food and supplies)
Do you have any raisins? Well, then how about a date? Any food at all? Please.
You see my friend over there? He wants to know if you think I’m cute. He’s blind from the radioactive pulse.
I hope you know CPR, because you take my breath away. (mostly to assess the utility of your potential partner)
Do you have a map? Because I just keep on getting lost in your eyes. Also, is there anything else out there, or is it all wasteland now?
Is it hot in here, or is it just the oncoming fire tornadoes?
Your legs must be tired because you’ve been running through my mind all night. Or away from the Blood Ravens.
If I said you had a beautiful body would you hold it against me? Seriously, the temperature is dropping incredibly fast. We may need to huddle for warmth.