Not nearly cheeky enough

I knew it might be a busy week, writing-wise, so I tried to hire a blog double to post some Fried Rice Thoughts this week.

Where I probably made a mistake was in hiring a butt double. But I thought it might be a good idea, after I read this article at Slate. Surely, he'd be able to post a funny story or two about the life of showing his booty on screen, or maybe some bitterness about other, more famous actors getting credit for his ass.

The problem is, the dude can't write.

And he doesn't even like sitting at my computer because he doesn't get to show off, as he calls it, "the moneymaker." He also complained my desk chair was "too itchy," but if he'd been using some underwear, that might not have been a problem. However, I had something of an issue with his bare bottom touching my seat. I don't care how much care he takes care of his booty. I was spraying some Febreze, if you know what I'm sayin'.

This just isn't working out at all. He's parading around the house without any pants on, which isn't the biggest deal, except when he happens to be standing near me, as I'm sitting down and eating. (Hot dogs may not have been the best culinary choice this week, either.) And when I get up in the middle of the night to pee, there he is, flexing and clenching in front of the mirror. Yes, I do mind.

Plus, he's giving me tips on how I can improve the looks of my own butt, which I suppose I appreciate, but it's not helping my self-esteem. Plus, I don't have time to do those exercises right now. I'm supposed to be writing, remember? It's why I hired him in the first place.

I hoped to salvage my money's worth by getting him to cut my lawn. But the neighbors weren't real keen on a pantsless man strolling back and forth in my front yard. I tried to entice them by getting him to cut their grass too, but that didn't work, either. Plus, he says he doesn't do yard work. His gig is showing off his butt, whether it's by standing up or laid face-down on a couch or bed.

I tried to get him to leave by smacking him with a frying pan right on "the moneymaker," but rather than get mad at me, he asked if I could smack him on the side, instead of right across the surface, so I don't flatten his assets.

What a disaster. I just chucked money out of the window. I'm not even going to help if he asks me to write something for him. I'm too irritated now.