Sometimes, I just don’t feel like going through the motions of writing up a witty post.

phil bares all

In a matter of months, you won’t be able to open up another internet site without seeing an advert with my firm, clenched butt cheeks centerfold and the caption “Crazy Mathematician: Naked and Loving It”.

It takes me a while to think of a topic to write about, though that usually occurs in a flash while I’m in the shower doing — well, that’s between me and the shower. Then when I get out, I’ll have to spend a few minutes brewing up a strong cup o’ caf because otherwise I’d never make it through the writing process.

Getting my ideas down on paper is harder than it sounds. It’s dependent on how eager I am to write the post and how fresh the subject material is in my head. Since I’m ridiculously short on wit and hopeless with comedy, every paragraph needs to be revisited so I can convince my readers that I’m smarter and funnier than I actually am.

Hours may pass. Somewhere halfway through, I’ll lose interest and go off to bake some cupcakes.

And then the inclusion of photos takes me another 10-30 minutes, depending on what the photo is, how it will compliment the colours of my site, whether I need to take it myself, and how much post processing it requires.

Then finally, the post is edited and re-edited until I’m satisfied.

But instead, let’s pose a hypothetical alternative:

I take out my camera and tripod (2 minutes), strip down buck naked (45 seconds, depending on what incentives are offered), rummage in my closet for my Indiana Jones’ hat and plop it on my head (1 minute), lie on my bed in some saucy, revealing position and snap a picture (3 minutes), post-process the picture (5 minutes), then upload it to the site and add a caption (1 minute).

In about 10 minutes, I can create a post that will generate more traffic and more disgusted viewers than anything I’ve ever tried before.

Mind you, I’ll be losing a fair amount of readers — the sane and sensible ones — and that’ll be a shame of course, but I’ll win them back. Eventually.

In a matter of months, you won’t be able to open up another internet site without seeing an advert with my firm, clenched butt cheeks centerfold and the caption “Crazy Mathematician: Naked and Loving It”. I’ll be invited to one of those corny late night talk shows where I’ll be able to discuss my upcoming book deals and guest appearences on the next big Hollywood blockbuster.

Of course I’ll remember you guys. The little people who helped me along when I was just another attractive twenty-something with hopes and dreams of being a star.

“I’ll give you a call sometime, babe,” I’ll say, and then we’ll have tea and I’ll tell you all about how they’re paving my name into the sidewalk next to Clint Eastwood or Mariah Carey. And then you’ll cry, telling me how difficult it’s been since my two, perfectly sculpted ass cheeks made an appearance on this site…

Look, I guess what I’m trying to say is, don’t hate me when I make it big, okay? It’s written in the stars, honey. Or at least imprinted somewhere on my rump.