DECEMBER 09
I have been fired from my job as a garden centre Father Christmas for eating and regurgitating one of the gifts, and punching a child who got scared when she saw me retching into my hat (I was trying to calm her down). Consequently, I have decided to strike out on my own and become a YouTube vlogger.
I’m not entirely sure what it is I’m meant to be doing, so I’m just filming everything I do, and hoping something sticks. So far, I have filmed myself doing the following things:
DECEMBER 10
Somehow, my vlog has become a massive hit, and I’ve been offered a deal to write my first book. I’ve decided to loosely base it on my experiences of being an online vlogger over the past 24 hours.
The book begins with the main character – who is called The Character – going to Costa, buying a nutmeg and almond latte, and then coming back from Costa and drinking the nutmeg and almond latte, before thinking about buying a dog.
The Character then considers stealing his neighbour’s dog, before thinking better of it. The Character’s vlog becomes a massive hit after he gives make-up tips, tries to write a listicle, watches Cash In The Attic (don’t want to make it too similar to my own life!), doesn’t watch Cash In The Attic, plays Jetpack Joyride, goes to bed, wakes up, looks out of the window, sighs – before finally being offered a book deal.
The book examines life in the spotlight, and tackles powerful themes of what it’s like to be a man who imagines what it's like to be a teenage girl online. My publisher has suggested that we hire a ghostwriter to pen the book for me, as my handwriting is terrible, and peppered with unnecessary profanity and death threats. The ghostwriter they’ve suggested is the late Ernest Hemingway.
DECEMBER 11
Regrettably, after a whirlwind couple of days, I have found myself embroiled in a media scandal. Following the release of my debut novel, 'Man Onlive', I attended my dizzyingly star-studded launch party (attendees included such notaries as Yancer, Prancer, Foynt, O'Sullivan and Tot) at which I signed copies and basked in the glow of how clever I'd been to get the late Ernest Hemingway to write it for me without telling anyone.
I was also invited by Bob Gandalf to pretend to sing on the new Ban AIDS single (I hired a ghostsinger - the late Ella Fitzgerald - to do the singing for me, as my own singing is peppered with unnecessary profanity and death threats). It was amazing; I got to hang out with such rock and pop greats as Tully, Mully, Jenson-9, Hunt, McNiven and Prang.
However, since then I've been hit with a backlash. Apparently, it is in some way considered dishonest to claim to have written a book, when in actual fact it was written by a ghost. Nevertheless, it's the late Ernest Hemingway who I feel the most sorry for; he's become so distraught by being in the spotlight that he's committed reverse suicide.
I have been fired from my job as a garden centre Father Christmas for eating and regurgitating one of the gifts, and punching a child who got scared when she saw me retching into my hat (I was trying to calm her down). Consequently, I have decided to strike out on my own and become a YouTube vlogger.
I’m not entirely sure what it is I’m meant to be doing, so I’m just filming everything I do, and hoping something sticks. So far, I have filmed myself doing the following things:
- Going to Costa.
- Coming back from Costa.
- Drinking the nutmeg and almond latte I bought in Costa.
- Thinking about buying a dog.
- Looking out of the window at the neighbour’s dog and thinking about stealing it.
- Looking out of the window at the neighbour.
- Deciding not to steal the neighbour’s dog.
- Googling ways to grow my online audience.
- Buying a book on Kindle about vlogging.
- Realising I've bought a book about 'flogging' in error.
- Giving make-up tips.
- Trying to write a post-modern listicle blog post entitled Ten Good Topics For Your Next Listicle, but not being able to think of anything else as clever as that.
- Obsessively checking my vlog stats.
- Watching TV (Bargain Hunt).
- Not watching TV
- Trying to do a Let’s Play on Jetpack Joyride on my iPhone, but not really understanding what that is, or what I have to do to make it entertaining.
- Tweeting famous people with whatever I can think of in the hope they'll tweet me back.
- Going to bed.
- Getting out of bed and looking out of the window to see if the neighbour’s dog was still outside (it wasn’t).
- Sighing.
DECEMBER 10
Somehow, my vlog has become a massive hit, and I’ve been offered a deal to write my first book. I’ve decided to loosely base it on my experiences of being an online vlogger over the past 24 hours.
The book begins with the main character – who is called The Character – going to Costa, buying a nutmeg and almond latte, and then coming back from Costa and drinking the nutmeg and almond latte, before thinking about buying a dog.
The Character then considers stealing his neighbour’s dog, before thinking better of it. The Character’s vlog becomes a massive hit after he gives make-up tips, tries to write a listicle, watches Cash In The Attic (don’t want to make it too similar to my own life!), doesn’t watch Cash In The Attic, plays Jetpack Joyride, goes to bed, wakes up, looks out of the window, sighs – before finally being offered a book deal.
The book examines life in the spotlight, and tackles powerful themes of what it’s like to be a man who imagines what it's like to be a teenage girl online. My publisher has suggested that we hire a ghostwriter to pen the book for me, as my handwriting is terrible, and peppered with unnecessary profanity and death threats. The ghostwriter they’ve suggested is the late Ernest Hemingway.
DECEMBER 11
Regrettably, after a whirlwind couple of days, I have found myself embroiled in a media scandal. Following the release of my debut novel, 'Man Onlive', I attended my dizzyingly star-studded launch party (attendees included such notaries as Yancer, Prancer, Foynt, O'Sullivan and Tot) at which I signed copies and basked in the glow of how clever I'd been to get the late Ernest Hemingway to write it for me without telling anyone.
I was also invited by Bob Gandalf to pretend to sing on the new Ban AIDS single (I hired a ghostsinger - the late Ella Fitzgerald - to do the singing for me, as my own singing is peppered with unnecessary profanity and death threats). It was amazing; I got to hang out with such rock and pop greats as Tully, Mully, Jenson-9, Hunt, McNiven and Prang.
However, since then I've been hit with a backlash. Apparently, it is in some way considered dishonest to claim to have written a book, when in actual fact it was written by a ghost. Nevertheless, it's the late Ernest Hemingway who I feel the most sorry for; he's become so distraught by being in the spotlight that he's committed reverse suicide.
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