When I was young pup of about eleven or twelve years, with stars in my eyes and a life full of really nothing more than looking forward to the next time I could escape to Blockbuster and rent another Salma Hayek movie… I wanted to be an actor. My parents only had (and still have) a 13-inch television of which only got four channels (five on a clear day). I religiously watched The Late Show with David Letterman and could envision myself sitting in the chair next to Dave chatting away about my next movie, what I thought about being voted People’s “Sexiest Man Alive” or what tabloid rumors about me were untrue.
Problem was I was painfully shy. Locked away within my inner recesses lay a talent only I know is worth taking a chance on.
“Hey man…if you’ve got the talent, then just go make it happen!” you might feel like saying to me. Yeah yeah… I know… I’ve heard it before.
Truth is… life happens. Life happens and your dreams get passed on to your next of kin. I already have high aspirations for DLG. She’s got the look: those eyes, that smile and the innocence in the way she imitates my daily activities that are devoid of the stresses that fill up an adults daily activities. These are all qualities I see, as a father, that make her impending celebrity an opportunity for me to gush with pride as well as cry with limitless abandon.
But the truth of the matter is… my opportunity is not over. Although my opportunity at becoming the next Keanu Reeves is probably far from becoming a reality, I have many other opportunities at making my indelible mark on society.
I could write a screenplay!
I could write a book!
I could invent a time-traveling machine!
I could beat up the cast of Jersey Shore!
I could imitate Milton Berle with uncanny accuracy!
Or… I could be the greatest dad the world has ever known… which would indeed be the greatest accomplishment of my life.
You know… sometimes life doesn’t quite work out the way you envisioned it… but all the better because it probably wasn’t what you were meant to do anyway.
But…………………………………………………. just in case I am destined for stardom (or anything remotely close), I’ve created a method of making yourself a donor of some of my excess fame and fortune. It’s called my Fanroll, and you can get to it by clicking here, here or here.
Several people have reaped the benefits of contributing to the Fanroll and here’s what they’ve had to say:
Mandal said: “The minute I submitted my picture to Papa K’s Fanroll… I become the most famous dude in Canada. I don’t have time to talk though because now I have to go help women have their babies. Flip mode.”
These two girls don’t have anything to say… because they’re too busy TANNING ON THE DECKS OF THEIR YACHTS THEY BOUGHT AFTER WINNING THE LOTTERY!!! AFTER SUBMITTING THEIR PICTURE TO MY FANROLL!!!
Good things happen to those who submit.
I don’t care how dense you may be or how much you think I may be kidding (because I am)… but they only thing you won’t get from submitting to my Fanroll quite frankly… is AIDS.
Also… if you submit a picture to my Fanroll… I will send you this autographed picture of myself free of charge:
Seriously… I’ve never been more serious… seriously… I’ll seriously do it… I’m serious.
All you gotta do is send me a picture of yourself to firstname.lastname@example.org with a sign reading “I Read Hands To War” and some funny quip following it like, “I Read Hands To War… But only because I have crabs” or “I Read Hands To War because I love his chinstrap goatee” or ” I Read Hands To War because he makes me feel alive again” or “I Read Hands To War because I’m Kim Kardashian and he talks about me all the time”, etc.
Think to yourself, “What other more important things are there in this world than submitting my picture to Papa K’s Fanroll? It’s fun, it’s easy… and I got something to promote. OKAY… I’LL DO IT! Hell… I might even become famous someday! He might remember me when he gets on the Late Show with David Letterman.”
The answer is, “Nothing… nothing is more important.”
I’ll send you an autographed picture of myself. I’m serious.
POSTSCRIPT: If you pay really close attention… you might be able to tell at what point in this post I went from deep and reminiscent to full-fledged “idiot-buzzed” off my six-pack of beer.