Tuesday 11 September 2012

My Kickstarter Page!

Hey guys, this time around I'd like to ask you for a favor. I'm launching a project on Kickstarter soon, and I just thought I'd run a rough draft of my Kickstarter page by you guys. Feel free to get in touch with me and let me know what you think. Thanks!

Hello, I am currently in the process of pursuing a goal that I have been working my entire life to achieve. Since I was ten years old, I have worked ceaselessly on making my goal a reality, toiling away in my parents' toolshed, furiously drafting and redrafting blueprints, only to scrap them entirely when they became unfeasible. Countless friends and family members have told me over the years to give up entirely, to focus on things like my job at the post office, taxidermy, and trying to get back my job at the post office. And yet, there remains within me a burning desire to see my goal to fruition! With your help, this can happen. I believe that for the relatively modest sum of $40,000, I can finally fulfill my dream: to build a time machine, go back in time, and make President Grover Cleveland punch me in the back of the neck while I eat lemon meringue pie.

You might be wondering: why does this man want President Grover Cleveland to punch him in the back of the neck while he eats lemon meringue pie? The answer to this question is that you shut your mouth. I do not need to explain the why, especially because if I did, it would take several hours to read and several buckets to mop up the tears you would surely shed. It is a poignant tale full of heartache and abandoned chili dogs. You need only know the how. Essentially, I am going to fashion the outer casing out of cardboard, sheet metal and old copies of Teen Vogue. The dials will be constructed out of old radio knobs and Adderall pills. My theory is that if I jump off the Empire State Building with enough of a running start, I can create a time warp that sends me back to 1887. Once there, I will brazenly mock his endorsement of the gold standard and suggest that his mother resembles a walrus drenched in leaf lard. He will then have no choice but to batter my neck with the full force of his ham-hock fists while I devour a lemon meringue pie for absolutely no reason.

Anyway, I figure out the potential cost of this enterprise by listening to outer-space radio serials from the 40's while meditating on top of a model nuclear reactor, so please give! I'll be sure to give Grover your thoughts on the Interstate Commerce Commission as he throttles the old mushroom stem!

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