I crawled out of bed this afternoon, and dragged my sorry ass to the computer to schlep around the internet and avoid real work.
Suddenly an IM from Dirty Bob popped up on my screen. It read, “Goddess your XCRO voting information will arrive soon.”
OMFG! It was a dream come true!
*ME*, a mere Goddess from uncontrollable flood water country, was now a member of the X Rated Critics Organization!! I could not control my glee! I could not contain my pride! I could not decide which font to use for my “SUCK IT, SOUTH!” email! When you think about it, nothing says, ‘I’m better than you are’ like Tropicali Script BTN Bamboo.
See it. Believe it. Achieve it.
I remember way back when I was in the ninth grade. Franklin D. was President, a new trailer cost about $79.95 with a ten year mortgage, and a then 21 year old Dirty Bob came to our school on career day, and talked about the XRCO. I remember it well: his drive, his enthusiasm, how he tried to make three strands of hair into a full do.
He told us how the XRCO had been a long standing tradition in the porn industry and that it was a very prestigious honor to be invited to vote, because new voters were chosen only when old members died. Kinda like the Senate. With all of the new blood pressure and cholesterol lowering drugs on the market, that can take a very long time. And don’t even get me started on cryogenics. (I’ve been waiting for that Dick Freeman guy to kick the bucket for years so I could grab his voting slot. I even tried twisting his oxygen tube into various animal shapes. No luck.)
After his XRCO talk, Dirty Bob started droning on and on about always having a backup plan in life and I zoned out. Puhleeze. Who in their right mind would PLAN to be a wedding photographer when they grow up?
But not a day passed that I didn’t dream about being in that XRCO. And today that day had come. How ironic that Dirty Bob was the one delivering me this good news.
You never know who will help you along the way.
I raced over to the XRCO page. (Save yourself. Turn off your volume.)
At the bottom, they have a list that’s called, “Alumnus, or Inactive or In Transition Status.” Sounds classy, huh? (Guess they can’t call it what it is: “People we’ll need to replace because we expect them to die any day now…”) I quickly scanned for the member‘s name with a strike through it. Hmm, none. I could not figure out which old fart died, so I just sent up a general prayer of ‘thanks’. As in, ‘thanks for killing someone in the XRCO, Lord’.
I was busy penning my acceptance speech–no WAY was I thanking Jesus; that is so overdone–when suddenly, DB IM’ed back and said, “Just messing with ya.”
EXCUSE ME?! I can’t be in an idiotic club that has FOURTEEN people on the “inactive” list?! There are only forty people voting in the first place! Kick one of those ‘inactive’ fuckers off and let me in already!
BTW, how “inactive” do you have to be to get on that list?! All you’re required to do is watch movies and vote, and they can’t even get that accomplished. And what does “in transition” mean? They’re learning how to be a porn critic or trying their best to rid themselves of the stank?
Insert some crappy positive affirmation here.
So thank you for breaking my heart into a million pieces, DB. I never wanted to be in your stupid X Rated
Critics Cocksuckers Organization anyway!! (Psssst! If anybody dies, you know my email addy….)
P.S. I sincerely apologize for not being able to find a way to work the word “cops” into this post…..