Yes, it's a mouthful, but that is my new name. Why? Because in two weeks time I will officially join Bob Woodward and Tori Spelling as a New York Times Best-Selling author. The call came today when I was working with my friend Michael Showalter on a sketch about the word "cunt." In other words, sometimes life imitates art.
On August 3rd, when the best-seller list becomes official, my new book
"My Custom Van (and 50 Other Mind-Blowing Essays That Will Blow Your Mind All Over Your Face)" will be at number seventeen, which is a terrible number to be. Why? Because the cut-off for the list that they actually print in the newspaper is either fifteen or sixteen. But never seventeen. So I am not going to be in the actual newspaper, but rather I have been ghettoized to the "expanded list," which is still the best-seller list but does not have the prestigious sheen of the printed version. In poker terms, I am the "bubble boy." In early John Travolta film terms, I am the "Boy In The Bubble" boy.
Therefore, I have a new goal. TO MAKE THE TOP FIFTEEN!!! To accomplish this, I am going to need your help. How can you help? By buying my fucking book. I have practically been on my hands and knees begging for your support, and while some of you heard my clarion call, still others (and I know who you are) have dithered, perhaps thinking to yourself, "I don't have enough money to eat AND buy the book." Bullshit. Let me ask you a question: how long does a good meal fill your belly? A few hours, perhaps. How long does a good book fill your brain? For a lifetime, motherfuckers! For a motherfucking lifetime.
When you don't feed your brain, what happens? You turn into a zombie. And I think we can all agree that we have enough problems with zombies as it is.
Now look, I wouldn't tell you to buy the book if it weren't fantastic, but it is. I know how tough times are out there, (Obviously since I'm a celebrity I don't really know, but when I was getting my make-up put on for one of my many television appearances I heard somebody talking about it and it almost made me upset.) but when times are tough, laughter is the sweetest medicine. And cash. Actually, I would put cash ahead of laughter, but laughter is a close second. I might also put a strong support system ahead of laughter, which would knock laughter down to third, but again, I think it's a close third. Just buy the fucking book.
Sincerely,
New York Times Best-Selling Author Michael Ian Black (Very Famous)