Recently, the crack team of literati here at Scenic Anemia sat down and decided we needed to start blogging. Not just to fill space on the website and make you, our 7 readers, feel like we were updating on a semi-regular basis, but because we wanted to give something back to the internet community that has given us all so little.

As usual, the meeting took place at the sordid arrangement of stolen lawn furniture arranged in the cement and weed-strewn patch of landfill that serves as Glenn’s backyard that he refuses to refer to as anything but a terrace. Glenn served Thunderbird in collectible Star Wars: Episode 1 cups from Taco Bell and we all got down to business. We call these editorial meetings but really we mostly get shitfaced and talk about how we want to do each others’ moms. Adam Brown’s mom is one hot tamale and by that I mean fine piece of ass and by that I mean charming lady of upstanding character. With wicked guns.

Anyway, as Glenn and Grady argued over whose hair was in the sour cream (we were eating sour cream. Glenn pretty much only has shit he stole from Taco Bell to serve us. Glenn works at Taco Bell) and Adam was busy funneling the Thunderbird, I thought to myself “I need better friends.” I also thought, if I were to do a blog post, I should really impart some useful info. Some wisdom I have achieved in life. And really, I do have wisdom. I have a degree in Philosophy, man.

I know what you’re thinking, you’re thinking you want to see pics of Adam’s mom. But you’re also thinking that if I have a degree in Philosophy, I should be living on a solid gold, lobster-plated yacht anchored off the coast of Wicked Hot Sex Island. And true, I could have taken that path, but that’s far too predictable. Besides, Wicked Hot Sex Island is full of ass hat philosophy majors these days all drinking their fuckin’ mocha lattes talking about Wittgenstein and ontological prostate exams and other shit I never cared about. Posers.

Anyways, after finishing my own Thunderbird and moving on to some Olde English, I was inspired to share my own knowledge of writing internet comedy for fame and fortune, neither of which I have. But I have written internet comedy. Just look at this blog post, it’s 34% hilarious and at most 50% retarded, which in and of itself is already 15% hilarious. This is why retards are funny. (Ed. – Please note we don’t mean that the mentally handicapped are deserving of mockery, we just mean retarded shit is funny. You know what we mean, don’t be retarded.)

So what have I learned about writing online? First of all, don’t write about your cat. Even if you have a cat named Weiner Dog which is the best name ever for a cat and it’s all fat like a little hairy sausage, no one will ever care. The internet is not for writing about your fat cat, no matter what this site tells you. http://www.fatcatblog.com/. What you should write about is stuff so ball blastingly awesome that people become immediately aroused or horrified just by looking at the title of your piece. I need not tell you what that means as I’m sure you too carry a list of words in your wallet that either cause you to become denim-shatteringly erect or lose bowel control. Or both. We call those words double whammies. Use those words in your title.

Now that you have a title, you need to write the whole thing. So if you’re writing an article called How to Grow 48GGG Boobs at Home Overnight by Listening to ZZ Top, which is an awesome and eye catching title, you should fill in the rest of the page with more words that capitalize on the interest generated by your title. Elitist pricks will tell you it’s best to write about something related to your title as well, but playing by other people’s rules isn’t for everyone and if you want to instead write about how you jammed with Hendrix in this dream you had when you were stoned once, you go right ahead. Probably no one will publish it because it’s stupid, but you can say you stayed true to you, and that’s something you can be proud of, especially if you’re deluded.

Finding a venue for your awesome writing is the hardest part. Where do you fit in? Do you want to write for Maxim? Cracked? Scenic Anemia? LolCats? How the hell should I know? I write for this website and I can prove it because you’re reading these words right now, which I originally wrote. Did I just freak your mind? I thought as much. Take a breath if you need to, I won’t go anywhere because I am not really here, just these words are. Did I just freak your mind again? Check and mate.

Basically, if there’s one thing I’m sure of, it’s that an afternoon in the sun with nothing but copious amounts of alcohol that’s barely more palpable than varnish and expired sour cream in your belly is friggin’ awesome. And I don’t say friggin’ lightly.