I felt it was safe to go back into the grocery stores because I thought I had bought all the remaining boxes of Little Debbie Cherry Cordials. Alas, I did not. I scooped the remaining boxes into the basket, and checked out. When I got back to the penthouse, I prepared dinner. I don't know what you put on your burritos, but you're probably doing it wrong. Beans, greens, a variety of cheeses, sour cream, Cholula, and more pickled jalapenos than you can shake a stick at goes on my burrito. I ate two enormous burritos, then washed it down with half a box of Little Debbies. I can't help myself. I just love those awful, phony, cherry-like cookies. It's a shame they're only available at this time of year, but I'm also very glad. I probably wouldn't stop eating them year round. And those pickled jalapenos! I love those, too. I'd sit on the couch and eat them out of the jar with a fork if I could.
After a few minutes, I began to feel strange. I think I might have started to feel the human emotion known as regret. Emotions confuse me, and I try not to have them. Since I'm not very familiar with this emotion, I'll try to describe it to you. From what I gather, regret is that full, uncomfortable feeling when your stomach has expanded from eating two burritos bigger than your head and half a box of cough syrup-flavored goodies, but then again, I could be wrong.
Dressed in sweatpants, feeling slightly regretful, I settled in to watch some movies. I watched Goremet: Zombie Chef From Hell. Actually, I've watched several movies the past couple of days that I haven't reviewed here. I will include them in my next book, which will have a total of 100 completely new and unpublished reviews. You will have to pay for them if you want to read them. Sorry, but that's the way it is. You'll have to shell out some cash if you want to read my reviews for Viva Knievel, Meat From Satan's Icebox, and Ass Zombies: Toilet Of The Dead.
Unfortunately, doing the research for my review of Goremet: Zombie Chef From Hell is when I had my epiphany.
Apparently, none of you exist. It came to my attention that the only people who read my blog aren't people at all, but are vampire and zombie robots who troll the blogosphere reading blogs in preparation for their eventual conquering of the world. At first I was super pumped. While I don't exactly understand their seemingly ridiculous plan to overthrow the planet by reading blogs about bad movies or kittens or woodworking, I welcome our robotic overlords. But then I started thinking, which is rarely ever a good thing, that if most of my visits are of vampiric robots, then no one is actually reading my blog or buying my book. The vision I had in my head of the one dude in Russia who sits around his 12" black and white television in a state-controlled apartment wearing one of those furry hats in Siberia reading my blog is a sham.
What I thought was a carefully calculated effort to build a regular readership of people who could possibly purchase my book is a lie. What appeared to be a gradual increase in readership over the past couple of years is a fantasy. However, I'm not disappointed. If zombie robots like my blog, then so be it. I'll continue writing terrible reviews for zombie robots about terrible movies probably starring zombie robots, but if there are any actual human beings with cash out there reading this blog, buy my book. It makes a great gift for people you don't like very well.