A friend and fellow Discordian, who would like to remain Mickless, recommended we all register on Facebook, and I hate him for it.  I opened an account, a public one, no less, and thanks to Pierce Winslow’s great idea to use public accolades instead of our real names, well…let’s just say I’ve gotten about what I deserve.  NOTHING. ABSOULTELY NOTHING.  Facebook, or no, the expected herds of adoring fans have yet to materialize.  The sexy blonde female stalkers have not overwhelmed my home page.  In fact, I haven’t even had any hate mail.  Nothing, nada, nichts.   Worse yet, despite the endless spam ads assaulting my web searches, the awful truth is: there are absolutely no hot single women in my area waiting to talk to me!  None!  It’s all a lie!  AHHHHhhhhhhhh! Distraught and disenchanted, I turned to the internet to search for my true popularity.  Wikipedia’s search results for Dave Atsals are as follows:

Dave Stalls, my ass.  I’m not a Query either, although I can belt out some show tunes when plied with enough alcohol.

My Google search for Dave Atsals resulted in this: did you mean Dave Astels? A few links to Discord articles also appeared, but who the hell is Dave Astels? Upset by this imposter stealing my thunder, I checked my real name.  After all, Dave Atsals is a sobriquet like all famous writer-folk and escaped convict types use (or even those few people, like yours truly, that happen to be both).   Again, my search revealed nothing—nothing but a few public court related documents. 

I did have much better luck with my YAHOO search.  Dave Atsals, pulled a lot of links to the Daily Discord, and that glory-seeking son of a bitch, Astels, was thankfully nowhere to be found.  My real name was actually linked to an Obituary, not my own, of course, at least I’m reasonably sure. 

I then decided to search the names of some of my friends and relatives, figuring this would make me feel better. WRONG.  The search of my father’s name pulled 30 hits, my mother 10.  Hell, when I searched my son’s name I got 15 pages of listings, and he hasn’t even been arrested yet.  For Christ’s sake my dog’s name got two hits.  Of course, that’s only because he bit my neighbor in the ass.  Sorry about that, Dad.

I then searched for some other things.  Famous Dave did not turn up any related articles, but I did spit out a great BBQ pit place that sounds worth a try, or perhaps a future franchise.  Any investors out there?  They even let kids eat free.  Famous Dave is also a porn star with a 10 inch accoutrement; couldn’t possibly be me (famous Dave falls a little short).

My search for Famous Dave Atsals didn’t even reveal anything in English.  But it did say “DO YOU MEAN FAMOUS DAVE ASTALS?”  Screw him, and, no, I’m not a gay porn star either.

I guess this writing thing isn’t bringing me the fame and fortune I duly deserve.  Plans are now in the work to gain fame the old fashion way, “on the cover of the Rolling Stone.”  I can see it now. I’ll buy five copies for my 10 hits mother.  Of course, the police news section is a far more likely spot to keep up with my antics. 

I did find some relief when I searched for Pokey McDooris, and Mick Zano.  Their names didn’t even pull up links to the Daily Discord. They did pull up some articles about tin cups, cell bars, and front steps, but that’s a whole other article.  Oh, and just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, I get a call from Mick Zano.  Get this, he promoted me to marketing and sales manager about a day after writing this puppy.  Yeah, that sounds like a great idea, marketing manager of the Daily Discord.  Did you mean Daily Dischord?   Screw you, Zano!  Last time I listened to you I ended up with a storage unit full of Betamax VCRs.  There is some good news amidst this pile of ego shriveling horse dung.  Our old marketing manager is now working for Dave Astels.  Good luck with that Davey.  See you in the Obits soon.