Fame Kills

My enemies have tried to stop me, the authorities have tried to seize me, fellow rappers have tried to ignore me, professed rapists have tried to befriend me, and beautiful women have tried to claim me -- but I stand in the sand, untouched!

At least physically. Mentally, though, I'm as dead as a dodo. Fame has taken its toll -- I'm officially exhausted and need a small break. Time to monetize the Nick Rapper empire.

My blog has reached far and wide (actually, it's reached about twenty folks . . . who all live in the same town). Regardless, the feedback has been varied. One young girl called it "very entertaining." One small boy said, "Every post is about me, dude -- kinda creepy." Ryan A told me it's "equally intellectually stimulating glamor and wrenching pop garbage." Christian P said to me, enthusiastically, "Take me off your blog, or else I'll turn Nick Rapper into a derogatory term for a mentally handicapped person." Miss Alison trashed it, and is considering using it when proving that absolute good and evil do exist. I hardly value her opinion, though -- she's using Fanta commercials to symbolize pure goodness.

The outcasts have rejoiced. Nick L considers this his "haven," citing my creepy post "Stake Out" as a source of inspiration. I asked him why he enjoys my website. He garbled incoherent sentiments, then promoted his Facebook group Support Robot Revolution. I suppose Powerman 5000 and Nick Rapper may be linked by this weird response. I continued my questioning. "Nick, who is your favorite character of my blog?" No answer for a moment, then: "I've been to a concert! I've been to a concert!" I ran away from him -- frightened like a victim of a Jonathan Edwards sermon.

Jen has told her friends about her celebrity-status among Nick Rapper followers. Marina C is particularly jealous, telling me, threateningly, "Nick, you better fucking write more posts about me! Jen's a fat slut bitch slut whore slut gay dumb blonde -- " I interrupted with a simple, "Marina, she's clearly a brunette." Don't interrupt a girl in the middle of a rant. Within minutes my right arm was no more. You thought Jacob Black was vicious in werewolf form? Try Marina in tiger form.

Anthony C has a new elitism based on his inclusion in Fictional Account. His good friend Greg L asked him if he'd mind carrying some furniture to a moving truck -- he's leaving New Jersey, forever. "Ant, you think you could help me out?" Ant laughed in Greg's face, spit on Greg's polo, and sexually harassed Greg's baby dachshund.

I know Anthony's behavior is horribly inappropriate, but he's offered to make stickers promoting my fortress of blogdom (his phrase) -- I've brushed Ant's evil doings to the side. He's a cool dude, and though his new superiority complex is fucking annoying, you have to appreciate his dedication. Few have taken this blog so seriously and so heavily.

The following is directly the result of Mario C pushing me to new hip-hop heights:

Welcome, y'all, to a brand new mini-rap / Damn boo, make like Chris Brown and gimme that / Respected bloggers are jealous / I'm gettin' blazed in the head with shockers and pellets / Gotta fucked up noggin 'n pelvis / Just woke up -- my eye sockets are Hellish / Can't touch the rapper, can't violate his space / Come near me, and I will rape your face / Annihilate your race / I'll bake you some fuck off pie and hatred cakes / My blog keeps soaring and you're envious / I'm talented and rich -- you're boring and penniless / My skills can't be adapted -- they're innate / My au naturale hair is great -- I'll send you some pics if you care to rate / What do you say to this? / Nothing, but I'll take your kiss

I told y'all befo' that my fame is directly the result of your ideas, comments, suggestions, etflyingcetera. Don't think we're done here, though. Last post for some time ain't gonna be some half-ass geese spit.

My relative success is similar to the Delorean song "Seasun" -- the track comes at you fast, then evens out, then breaks down, then elevates. Okay, I excluded the fade-out ending, but for a good reason!

Anthony C is taking a business class -- he's learned a fair amount in the early months of the school year, and he's gonna help me spread the Nick Rapper brand. He's responsible for the tag line "Read Nick Rapper's blog, or die . . . an unhappy person." Brilliant. Catches you off guard, waits for you to regain your composure; then makes you chuckle warmly, sealing your eventual readership. Basically, he's convinced me that new levels of fame are heartbeats away, as long as I don't put all my marbles on the table during our early stages.

"Nick, I've sold five guitars -- not stickers, not bookmarks, guitars -- without promotion. That's a side project. We won't even get into my multi-thousand dollar industry of plagiarized musical compositions. I'll tell ya this: ya need confidence and ya need poise. I sold those five guitars because I maintained that they were used by Enter Shikari's side project, Gay Lemons, in concert. Fucking idiots! Gay Lemons doesn't exist! My patrons obviously googled it and didn't find anything about it. My response: 'What kind of fan are you? Everyone knows Reynolds never released any music from Gay Lemons. He doesn't even like talking about them. I was at their first concert . . .' See, if you talk fast, talk clearly, be precise and specific, never have any self-doubt, blah blah blah, you'll sell Nazi apparatus to Jews. Doesn't hurt to post glowing reviews -- yes, fake ones Nick -- on your site. Don't take no. Take 'probably,' 'possibly,' even 'maybe' -- but never ever take no. Now let's start selling stickers."

Don't worry, I won't take advantage of you, my lovely, fascinating, and beautifully-designed readers. I just want you to be happy, satisfied, and AN AVID BUYER OF NICK RAPPER MERCHANDISE proud of your unparalleled perfection.

Also, don't think everyone has been with me since our inception. Marina published an article in the Girls Only Times titled, "Say Hello to Nick Rapper and his Offensive Commentary," in mid-October. An excerpt:

The problem I have with the blog is its reliance on subliminal anti-feminism backlog. Also, it's weird and stalker-ish and I'm a woman -- read the rest of my article! The three-part Jen and Dave at a Supervillains concert thing was really creepy. Let me talk more about how Nick secretly inserts anti-female propaganda in his blog, girls!

I really don't want to post any more of her garbage editorial. I love her, now, in a "since hate is as strong as love then she makes me feel strongly and I love feelings so I'm in love with her I guess" capacity. Our public feud has fueled the blog's popularity, and as I said before, she's in awe of the fame she now owns. A page from her Algebra notebook:

I have no idea what Miss Clueless is talking about. Whatever. Nick needs to stop staring at me. IDC if u stare at me, honestly, as long as you keep writing about me in your blog then whatever. I'm so popular! 2x + 3y = 6 . . . ok, this doesn't interest me when r we gonna use this shit in life. I'm definitely not in the mood to solve for y. Cramer does not Rule my notebook LOL I'm good I'm telling this one to Brandon.

Anyone have Marina's address? She might need this to study. Give me Marina's address, or I'll defecate on each of my readers' houses. You better not be thinkin' I won't do it, 'cause I . . . wait, it's better for me if you think I won't do it, because then you'll be surprised and maybe suspect someone else as the culprit. Either way, I sawed that saying to shreds.

Jen's extremely sad for the break I'm taking! I tried to explain to her the reasons for the upcoming hiatus, but she simply stood there incredulously, arms crossed. She broke down in tears when I said I had to leave her company soon. "Jen, I'll give you a good book to read while you patiently wait." I handed her The Lovely Bones and explained that, although there's some difficult words in there, she'll enjoy it and be in tears by the falling action. "Fine," she said, and I left her to cry onto Dave's shoulders.

The first of my stops will be Boston University. Then it's off to Expression University -- the finest sound engineering school in Cali. No one's sure of their future, but blips and bleeps sound right to me -- even better than oohs and aahs. Minimalist Matias Aguayo created a gem about rollerskating -- a twelve carat cut indeed. Oh, the small edits which propel it to greatness!

I'm getting way ahead of myself. Nick, bro, get back here! Let's get hood real. I just want you to have content to consume while I'm out. I'm devoid of ideas and Kit Kat bars so I'll let Dave take the reigns. Fuck, he's currently on the set of Cloudy with a Chance of Insex. He was supposed to get me the lead role in that sequel. Whatever -- I wish him the best, and he's right: I don't have iron abs.

We're almost done with the first era of Nick Rapper. But this era is child's play. Antipasto, if you will. I'm giving my competitors a sharp opening. Nick L has been warning me of his upcoming music blog, and on paper, it sounds ridiculously terrific. "Concert reviews, pics, a schedule of concerts, links . . . ya know." Eh -- anyone can talk. But I'd be his first follower if that were put into play. Honestly, I have a feeling each post will dedicate an exorbitant amount of space to System of a Down. Even though they broke up three fucking years ago.

Voicemail! Oh, what could Dave want? "Nick, I hear you're gonna take some time off of your blog. Faggot, now all Jen does is cry. Between your break, 'attemping' to tell Scott what's up, and her monthly dose of hormones . . . or whatever you wanna call it . . . uh, we need to work. Either that or I'm signing a deal for the last film of that incest porn shit. Peace."

What am I gonna do? I guess I'll just dish out thank yous and call it a night. First off, Dave, thanks for starting this blog up. Our mock-fights spark creativity. Dylan was the first reader, technically, so thanks man! Jen has been super cool with everything. Thanks. Wilbur has been Lemon Heads type sweet about his inclusion. Marina, I hate to say this: tha . . . thank you . . . Missy. Anthony C is the man. Say "FML" in his company; you'll get a wink and a nod. Mathias, Anthony M, Vlad -- you give me inspiration, even though you also give me heartache. Ryan A, Christian P -- a stupendous comedic duo. Ask Chris for a certain card with a genuinely funny definition and example list on it. Julian G has been coo wit er'thing. Shvet actually asked me to put him in my blog. Hats off to that delicious sweetie pie. Angelo L . . . keep spreadin' my blog to your thousands of Facebook babes. The final slice of praise goes to . . . Nick Rapper, for being so conceited as to thank himself.

Here's to another month -- heck, another year!