got to say, the internet has been pretty tame this year as far as AFD goes. At absolute most, I have it on good authority PornHub apparently filled their entire front page with videos of people playing the trumpet, and that’s pretty much been it.
I myself have been pretty reserved this year, compared to the announcement of Eugene Wafleshire’s epic debut self-help novel, How to Fuck Your Couch Like a MAN!, a year ago to the day. I’ve honestly given ol’ Eugene Wafleshire an extended, indefinite hiatus after the blog I tried to create for him didn’t work out…
Oh right, I don’t think I ever mentioned that here, have I?
Around the fall of 2017, I had finished The Gael Saga, was in search of a new exciting project, and was hyped up on Hunter S. Thompson and the majesty of gonzo journalism. Attempting to absorb everything that constituted gonzo journalism (minus the peyote, obviously), while maintaining my own opinions on life, the universe, and everything, I eventually used the Eugene Wafleshire pen name for this project.
Eugene Wafleshire quickly ceased to be a gag name I used as the author name in fake book covers, and I had made him a real life character. Eugene Wafleshire was an opinionated jerk, a loud and proud libertarian, and the defining feature, the town drunk.
I wrote a series of OP EDs, submitted them to the local papers, and the ones that didn’t get picked up (IE, all but one), I posted to the BlogSpot.com account I’d set up for him. I’d made the flur de lis Eugene’s insignia, even though whiskey is an IRISH drink, and the FRENCH seem to prefer wine according to stereotypes 101. I grew my beard out longer than I’d ever let it grow, found an old cowboy hat I’d bought years ago, and used a selfie containing that beard and that hat as my profile pic for said OP ED submissions.
I used Eugene Wafleshire to share stories of working alongside meth heads (which is kind of a true story, actually), political opinions that consisted of clever ways of saying “Everybody’s a fucking idiot”, and occasionally sharing Eugene’s favorite drinking songs. Spoiler: he really loved Right Said Fred.
I branched out, and used alternative social networking methods to promote myself. Only to find that “alternative social networks” was a fancy term for “conservative social networks”. Basically, Twitter’s and Facebook’s attempts at fighting racism negativity, extremism, and what not, resulted in a massive purging of conservatives from their platform, thus resulting in the creations of Gab.ai, and Minds.com. Well, Minds.com is a little more neutral in concept, but fucking Kekistan was all fucking over the place when I was trying to promote Eugene there.
Eugene Wafleshire: gonzo journalist, didn’t pan out. The viewership was minimal, and the only real feedback I’d gotten was that I rambled too much. Fair enough: even BEFORE I was studying up on gonzo journalism, and the writing style of Hunter S. Thompson, I’ve been prone to letting stream of consciousness grab hold of me. Before I know it, I have ten paragraphs of crap that may or may not even be on topic anymore. It’s weird, but that’s how it is.
Seeing as how the blog was going nowhere, I decided to delete my accounts: on BlogSpot, on Minds (which at the time was, and probably still is a bit on the glitch side), my Gab.ai account (I think)… As many as I could think of.
I’d thought about using Eugene as a narrator in a writing project I called Misanthropy in Retail. It was sort of an autobiography, but it kind of WASN’T an autobiography. It was about a chapter of MY life, but as told by Eugene Wafleshire: roommate, good friend, and possible figment of my imagination. Eugene would tell the tale of how he and I worked retail for two years (give or take), and how toxic an experience it was. All the while, Eugene would pad out the book with political commentary that was both biographical, opinionated, and libertarian. Also, he insisted that I had a foot fetish. Guess he read The Gael Saga too. 🙂
That project, like a lot of writing projects in the time between The Gael Saga and The Majin Among Us, didn’t get finished, and I’m hesitant to even bother trying anymore. I think this was all just a passing fancy that I don’t dare revisit without a healthy dose of Hunter S. Thompson injected into my brain.
I haven’t used his name for anything sense. I was thinking of making another April Fools Day prank about a fictional book he wrote, but I figured this was an alias that’d run its course.
And so, I chose not to do an AFD prank this year. As did a lot of the places I normally visit on the net. Weird, right? I guess the fact Easter and AFD are on the same day means everybody’s too busy collecting the seven magical wishing eggs to summon all mighty Shinran the wishing bunny to bring Jesus back to life. Or something.
Whatever. Happy Christ on a Stick day. I’ll see you next time.