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09 May 2007
Reasons your life rocks Do it to it like this is AskMeta. No whining, only bragging disguised as a question.→[More:]
I have a loving dog, great job, nice apartment, loving boyfriend and friends, great family. WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME?!?!??! HOPE ME!!!
Is it normal/okay for record execs to send gifts? Geffen keeps sending me stuff (guitars, vehicles, heroin) with little cards that say "please sign with us" and I'm just not sure what to think about it. (P.S. same question but re: oral services from same)
My wife's awesome, my dog's recently stopped being an asshole, and I'm drawing and guitar-playing better than I ever have before. Should I be worried that this big red guy with horns keeps asking me if I got some form notarized?
27 supermodels are coming to an rooftop orgy at my sumptuous apartment with the caviar-filled swimming pool. Should I seat them alphabetically, by height, or haircolor?
I recently landed the big account at work and received an obscene amount of money for making promises our engineers cannot possibly keep. My trophy wife is young, nubile, and has a healthy appetite for freaky sex that's probably illegal in many states. I outran a police officer in my Maserati when he tried to pull me over today, and the butler just let me know we'll be having baby seal for dinner. My question: which type of paper currency is best for snorting cocaine off the asses of expensive hookers?
Ok, this has been making me nuts for a while now. How can I get people to stop waving their ugly, cheap ass pens in my face? I'm a celebrity (and rock star), and I travel all over the world and make lots of money. I mean, duh...last week alone I made 13 million dollars, so I think I can afford to buy my own bloody pens, amirite?
I only use Montblanc. Duh. I hate crap pens...they're ugly and I hate being seen with ugly things. So anyway, everywhere I go, I get asked for autographs, which is fine, but people shove Sharpies and Bic pens at me. It's fucking rude. The other day I got paid for a movie I made (5 million for 3 days work) and when I went to endorse it, the teller at the bank was falling all over herself to please me, and she handed me one of those cheap crap pens on a chain!! Like, what the fuck? How do I get people to stop trying to lend me their sorry little ugly ass pens? What the hell is the matter with people? Thanks for any help!
He looked so cute when he was begging me to sleep with him, but now I've had sex with George Clooney he just won't leave me alone? What should I do? I have no more vases for the bouquets and that all Tiffany jewelry is a little gaudy for my taste, except the 3-carat solitaire. I might keep that.
I'm a well-known executive of a major software firm and have young, pretty female programmers fawning over my every waking moment. My bank account is so large I no longer even bother to balance my check book. I live in a palatial estate surrounded by peacocks and wild animals, and I have a bevy of supermodels ready to do my bidding at the snap of my fingers.
My question - how do I convert my FAT32 drive to NTSF? Will I lose my data? And how can I keep from tripping over my dick when I get out of the shower?
We're getting married! And we have the best parents, the best friends, and the best family ever! Our venue is spectacular, Wolfgang Puck is going to cater, and our flowers are specially arranged by Martha Stewart! Oprah agreed to officiate! Neil Young is going to play "Heart of Gold" as I walk down the aisle! But I just don't know which inivitations to use: blue or gold! Help me, AsMe!
I think I may be too awesome. My friends are all intimidated by me. What can I do to let them know that I don't expect them to be as accomplished as I am?
I am George Clooney. Yes, I know, I know. This is going to sound crazy, but I'd actually like to become just a little tiny bit less Clooney-esque. How do you think I should go about doing this?
Oh, you know what, nevermind, I'm okay now. I get these little 12 second pangs every other year. Thanks for listening!
I have a wonderful and beautiful girlfriend who not only enjoys my cooking but also laughs at the same dumb stories that i'm always telling, but I've recently found myself green with jealous about my neighbor. We share a fence and he has the most incredible lawn I have ever seen. I think he uses some kind of fancy grass that's imported from Tibet. How can I ruin his lawn without him finding out? I have a herd of goats if that will help.
I am a trillionaire, and yet I've noticed there are still some countries that seem like they could be poorer. Like last night on TV I saw this African tribe who live in concrete huts, and I thought to myself "if they were living in mud huts, I could get diamond-studded brake pedals for all of my cars". Of course, I could do this anyway, but it's the principle of the matter - the "trickle-up" theory if you will. This frustrates me and makes me feel powerless. My wife keeps telling me "all good things will come in time", but this doesn't console me as much as I feel it should. What's one of the wealthiest men in the world to do?
I have over a dozen cars of various hues and styles to match my many designer outfits. I find that men really appreciate this attention to detail. Which brings me to my question: Who's job is it to clean the spooge off the seats, the maid's or the chauffer's?
I'm the only one in my circle of friends who had a normal, happy childhood. I feel so left out when they discuss all the problems they have had to deal with. Seriously, I'm a plain well-adjusted adult. Should I make up stories or get a drug habit or something to fit in?
I have been paid nicely, flown out and put up in a gorgeous natural mountain setting for the sole purpose of finishing my art. Question, (sadly a real question) how do I stop procrastinating?
Since Bill and Melinda Gates are taking on Malaria, and Clinton just got that deal through for low-price AIDS meds, I have been wracking my brain for something for my foundation to do. (I invented and patented that little add-on that makes porn pictures reveal from the bottom of the screen, not the top, and since every click on a porn link is worth $0.00000004 to me, I am now among the 10 wealthiest individuals in the world.)
Well I had my idea for using my fortune for the good of humanity. A laptop for every kid below the age of 16 in Darfur. My friend Michael Dell likes the idea a lot. But the Bills and Melinda have been cool towards it. How can I bring them around?
ej, you're welcome to George Clooney once he and I have finished our one-night stand. Daniel Day-Lewis? Hands off or else! ;-)
The spoiled prince has moved out, I've lost 50 pounds, the condo owners are in control of the building and I'm able to finally enjoy my place. Where's my other?
My boyfriends (scodyboy and Paul Weller) and I would like to buy ourselves a villa, but we cannot decide between France and Italy. Will this sack of money that just appeared on my doorstep be useful in this regard?
I have so much quality material already recorded that my next CD could be a triple one. Yet, I ask my friends and the record company to cull them at least into a double CD album but no one can stand to leave anything off.
Since I have so many new ideas for songs, and have Aretha Franklin, Joan Jett, Yo Yo Ma, The Boss, Prince, Keith, etc. etc. etc. very excited about the new demos I sent them and want to get in the studio with me asap, I just don't know what to do with the tracks I have ready.
Putting out a triple-CD set could seem pretentious. Should I just randomly cull one CD's worth, and save them for my Box Set, in a few years?
Help! I seem to be leading a double life. Much of the time I spend in my mundane job as a big-city newspaper reporter, but I enjoy moonlighting as an almost invincible crime fighter powered by Earth's yellow sun. The strain of the deception is wearing me out -- I'm missing deadlines, smoking too much, and I almost dropped a school bus full of orphans into a volcano the other day out of sheer absent-mindedness. Something's got to give. I've tried antidepressants, but my unique metabolism seems to negate their effectiveness. My friend Bruce has suggested cognitive behavioral therapy, but I'm not sure I can really trust that guy -- seems like he has an agenda. Plus, the little guy in tights that he lives with squicks me out. I guess I just need to figure out how to make my own way in a world that is much, much weaker than I am. Any suggestions?
photo by splunge
photo by TheophileEscargot
photo by Kronos_to_Earth
photo by ethylene
