Congratulations Bad Actress Betty!

You’re a bad actress named Betty, and you’re a huge hit in Hollywood.

You’re pretty attractive, as far as the general population goes, but you’re not jaw droppingly attractive. In fact, in the context of actresses you’re kind of homely. And your acting is somewhere between Shatner and Anderson (Louie or Pamela, it doesn’t really matter which you look at). But you remain a prominent and well regarded actress because you give the finest handjob in Hollywood.

“This is okay,” an executive will tell you as you jack him off the back of his town car while his Jamaican driver sits in the front and does his best to pretend the two of you aren’t there.

“Aw, you’re sweet,” you’ll mumble at him as he ejaculates all over your hand without warning, groaning loudly as you continue jacking off his fast-descending erection.

“I guess I need to give you that part,” he’ll mumble into your hair as you continue to masturbate him despite his ejaculation.

“Sure,” you’ll mumble at him, already making eyes at his driver, who will still be doing his best to pretend you’re not there. “Who’s that black guy?” you’ll whisper back to the executive, licking your lips as you stare at the driver’s eyes in the mirror, hoping he’ll look back at you.

Congratulations Bad Actress Betty!

Congratulations on Remembering Your Cock Sock!

There’s a lot of shit they don’t tell you when you first become an actor. First, right off the bat, most people on set at any given moment are super fucking naked. Unbelievably naked. If they were any more naked you’d lose your shit the moment you walked on set. Second off, actors who don’t do nudity, not just during scenes where they’re supposed to be filmed nude but during scenes where they’re just on camera and certain parts of their body aren’t being filmed, are universally reviled as pussies.

That’s why Tom Cruise showed everyone his penis back in the day, before he was gay. That’s why Thomas Hayden Church gets so much sweet ass work (his dick is huge) and that’s why if you don’t show up to work with a cock sock your dick is going to end up on either Youtube or the silver screen, depending on how good you are and how nice your dick looks. And that’s why people keep hiring Morgan Freeman and Jack Nicholson and paying them so much money even though they’re way too old to get real jobs: they just want them to stop displaying their penises.

Today you’re going to show up for your second day on set, your first on camera, and people are going to tell you to strip. Immediately. Not just for the sake of being on set, but so that you can shoot a love scene with actress Halle Barry.

“What if I get a boner?” you’ll ask the second assistant-camera man.

“Stick it in,” he’ll shrug. “It’ll make for good b-roll, even if shit goes wrong.”

You’ll start to panic, sweat flooding your pores, eyes widening. You’ll rush to your dressing room, which is what they call the broom closet where you drop your shit and get fitted by wardrobe, and start rifling through your bags in search of some salvation.

Luckily for you your uncle told you about all this. He told you, and he made sure you were prepared. “Take this, kid,” he said when he sent you on your way out from Omaha, handing you a flesh colored pasty that fit snugly around your balls. “Always carry it with you.”

You always followed your uncle’s advice, since he never tried to molest you, and today will be no different. You’ll rummage through your bag and, after a long dramatic pause, remove your flesh colored pasty from your luggage.

“Thank Christ,” you’ll exhale, stripping and putting your cock sock on so that it fits snugly around your junk.

When you get out in front of the camera, inches from Halle Barry’s vagina, people will be a little disappointed that they won’t get to see you nail her. But the director will love the touch.

“It adds longing to the scene!” he’ll cry, applauding. The crew will follow his lead, but they’ll still all look kinda sad. But this is Hollywood, and the crew doesn’t matter. So it won’t really make any difference, and when the production ends you’ll have lined up another job for yourself. Because you’ll have come off as a professional, and directors, they love professionals.

Congratulations on Remembering Your Cock Sock!

Congratulations on Getting a Year Older!

Honestly, we’re not sure why anyone would care about this. Our editor pretty much forced us in to writing this one, so reader beware. We personally wanted to write a something about a dude who totally used to bang Princess Di and knows what’s really going on with her right now. Spoiler alert: it had vampires in it. Now who knows when you’ll get to hear it? Probably a few days from now.

So here it goes. You’re a douchebag who’s been working on a novel that will “totally change everything, man.” It’s a largely autobiographical work, except for the parts about using art history to solve crime and the parts where you’re successful with women, which glorifies your life and attempts to eliminate all the negative qualities you have a person. It casts you as a sort of characterless everyman as a result.

You’ve been shopping it around, sending brief selections of it to various publishers with notes that wax and wane between threatening and fawning. You’ve offered at least one person a handjob in exchange for a publishing deal, but you haven’t received any responses.

And you’re not going to today, by the way. But you are going to see a new book by Dan Brown in a window today. Since you’re a terrible author Dan Brown is your fucking idol and you’ll start to hyperventilate a little when you see it. You’ll pick it right up off the shelf and start to flip through it, calculating your bank balance and seeing if you can pick it up and still afford to eat this week.

The first few lines will be exactly the same as the opener of your manuscript. Puzzled, you’ll read on, finding your words splayed like a tipsy frat girl upon each page. The only difference you’ll notice between your manuscript and the finished book will be the name of the main character and the title. Apparently Seamus McGee, protagonist of Escape from the Hall of Titties wasn’t edgy enough for Dan Brown.

You haven’t gotten there yet, but there will also be a scene where a priest rapes a man which Brown has inserted in order to continue his tradition of writing inexplicable, stupid shit.

You’ll be so angry that you’ll want to scream and tear the book to shreds and then light the shreds on fire and then piss on them to put them out. You’ll be flexing your bony little writer arms, getting ready to do it, when a Korean man in the store will attack you with a broom and force you to leave. He will not be associated with the store in any way.

You’ll flee back to your shithole apartment, tears streaming down your face. You’re going to send quite the email to Dan Brown tonight, but for now you’re going to have a cry and lament having accomplished nothing at the tender age of 25.

Congratulations on getting a year older!