I Am Fake Steve Jobs

UPDATE, August 7, 2007: Yeah, well, a Commentard at the FSJ blog had this nifty idea that if everyone stood up ala the movie Spartacus and shouted “I”m Fake Steve Jobs!” it would help muddy the search waters. I should have started using FSJisms like his patented “(See here.),” but I didn’t. It would have been great if Boston bloggers had all stood up to confuse things. But I guess I was expecting too much from the descendants of frigtards who thought they could turn a lake into tea. Or something. (See here.) Now on to the original post text:

No, really.

It’s true.

I got bored one day and thought, “You know, what would it be like if I was the Coolest Fucking Guy In The Universe? What kind of life would I have? What kind of job would I have?”

All this took place while I was happily using free time on a MacBook at an Apple Store.


I shared this idea with some friends (yes, I do have those!) and we all got together and decided to do it in the form of a Secret Diary — mainly because one of us (I won’t say who except it damned well wasn’t me!) was an Adrian Mole fan as a kid (eejit!).

I don’t often write the entries. It turns out my own style just isn’t cool enough. (You bastards, using my love of certain F-words against me! They went with the twee frigtard over my fucktard!)

But I will suggest items for the Secret Diary. Just look at this blog and you can see my fingerprints all over the Fake Steve Jobs blog!

My one regret?

This backfired.

Dammit. And I was so close to finally having a date too!

So call off your dogs, you creeps who can’t leave an illusion alone. I’m outed.

But when the end of the year comes up, all of your kids are going to get many emails with fake links that all point to this story. Have fun explaining how you killed Fake Steve Jobs and the Real Santa is dead.

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