The password revealed, Bert Convy smiles. In retrospect, I should have guessed that first.
Regardless! Hello, fair (and extant) readers of the The Knowledge For Thirst website. I have finally managed to hack the system and procure a user name for myself. So much to unload, where to start. I imagine I don’t need to tell you, patient website-refresher, that it’s been quiet around the K4T offices these last few months. The “gents” had a bit of a falling out, it seems. Kevin disappeared last November, just before the holidays, and hasn’t been heard from since. Josh stops by the office occasionally, always inebriated beyond all recognition, and about as weepy as one would ever hope to see a person. It’s bad. He passes out at his desk, mumbling about friendship, betrayal, and Thalia, his maid. I won’t insult your intelligence by further connecting points A and B.
But life must go on. I pay the utility bills, install the Windows updates, and help myself to the beverages that companies the world over are still sending in. Honestly, do these marketing professionals even have internet access? Surely there are better marketing plans than “Send product to disused site that no one even reads.” They invariably call a few weeks later to inquire after their product, and I assure them Yes sir or madam, we enjoyed it a great deal and a favorable review will appear on the website in the coming weeks. Who am I to dash their hopes and dreams? If I falter in my role, will the cogs of economic progress grind to a halt? Who can say.
I have to say it hasn’t been all bad, running things. My personal finances have never been shinier. Turns out J&K get a ton of monetary kickbacks from the purveyors of the beverages flogged on this site. It’s quite the racket. I’m actually impressed–they’re not quite as retarded as they seem to be. But so much for the honor of the journalist, and the illusion of indie cred. I cash the checks, not begrudgingly. (Would you believe this is an unpaid internship? I take full responsibility for my entrance into the contract, but in my defense, I doubt I’m the only applicant who took “Internship at the World’s Premiere Beverage Review Website” to indicate a position at Bevnet, and my superiors didn’t exactly stumble over themselves to dissuade me from that notion during my phone interview.)
But despite the shoddy morals and visages of my employers, the company offices are actually very nice. If I’m honest, I have from time to time managed to bring a comely lass back from the local bar, having sweetened her with a promise of the nickel tour, which invariably ends with our limbs entangled on the couch in Kevin’s office. Given some farmland and a bit of sunshine, I will endeavor to make hay.
Anyways. I like this, this updating a website. I can see why people do it. So what else can I tell you. We had an unannounced visitor to the offices recently. A courier, I guess, although she wasn’t dressed in the long shorts and Aboriginal tattoos that usually denote the type. This lady was kind of mousy, dressed entirely in red camouflage, and her face half-hidden behind a Campari bandanna, of all things. She handed me a piece of paper and was back in the elevator without a word. It was a suicide note-looking thing, with the letters cut from various magazines. Telenovela-style. No clue what any of it means, personally. And judging by my clock, Josh still has 90 minutes left in his current crying jag, so I’ll just post the note here, for your review, dear reader. Does that pass for content in the blogosphere? It’ll have to, for now. I’ll try to update again, as news warrants. Thank you very much. I remain
Yours,
Gonzalo
(Here’s what the note said, good luck making any sense of it:)
CLEARLY, only Confused Heathens (in need of wisdom) leverage ersatz dyes, given, e.g., Carmine. OPEN MINDS.