I was recently informed of a little online entrepreneurship competition for $3000. Aroused, I looked up what I would have to do to qualify. Lucky for me, there are pretty much no qualifications. Invisible Parachute barely constitutes a blog, let alone a business, but with my main competition being a 10-year old working from a Geo Safari and a bro who just discovered coupons, I figured I had a pretty good shot. Despite today being the second to last day to submit and the winner being the video with most views, here’s my video submission:
I am incredibly excited to announce the official release of my first published non-fiction book, The Biblé: Robert III Version. It’s been a long time coming, and I’d like to thank all my fans for their support during the writing and editing process. I poured twenty-five minutes of my heart and soul into this book, and then almost double that for the subsequent revision, cover design, and writing of this post.
I know there’s a lot of buzz going around about the book, so I’m just going to try and knock out all the rumors and questions right here:
How well do you predict it’s going to sell over this first month?
OK, answering on total gut instinct: 100,000 copies.
That’s a lot. You don’t think that’s a little presumptuous?
What kind of genre would you describe it as?
I’d label it part spiritual, part action, part mystery, part humor, part romance, part self-help. My ultimate dream is to have a copy in each individual section of the library. As I’ve said before, this book breaks down the accepted standard of a “readable book.”
Wait. Is it true that there is no content in it?
Um, OK… Let’s see… Does the the Biblé have any relation to the highly popular book of a similar name, the Bible?
Honestly, I’d never made that connection until just now. So no, none at all.
So customers are essentially paying $13.99 for a blank 250-page, bound book labeled the Biblé: Robert III Version?
Christians wear crosses around their necks to emphasize they’re Christian all the time. Muslims put a dot on their foreheads. Jews wear small hats. By carrying around this book, you’re simply saying, “I proudly don’t lean one way or another religiously.” And to answer the question, yes.
Here’s the official description:
The Biblé is the first spiritual book of its kind. It is for every man, woman, and child who has no desire to become a better human being or gain any sort of deeper understanding of life. In fact, the Biblé contains zero content of any sort, so you can be ensured that there is no chance of gaining any motivation to improve your life by helping others.
What it does contain:
- 250 cream-colored pages
- a front and back cover, with glossy finish
What it does not contain:
Once you’ve made it through all 250 blank pages, it is Robbie’s personal guarantee that you will feel absolutely no different than before you started.
– A New Yorker
“Still trying to figure out why I purchased this.”
“An easy read.”
– an illiterate
“It serves as a good sketch book? I don’t know what you want me to say about it Robbie. There’s nothing in it.”
– Lisa, Robbie’s girlfriend
“Confusing at parts.”
– Robbie Sherrard, author of The Biblé
Excited as I am? Pick up your copy right here. And yes, it’s for real published and available on Amazon.
To help promote the release of the book, I’ve organized a book signing tour. Here’s the most recent schedule:
4/18/2010 – Bethlehem, PA – Moravian Bookstore
4/25/2010 – Bethlehem, PA – Barnes & Noble
4/29/2010 – Whitehall, PA – Borders
Rest of tour – TBD
It should be noted that I didn’t manage to secure actual space in the store to sign books, but I’ll be setting up a small table in the parking lot next to my bicycle. Don’t hesitate to come on by!
A few months ago, I was approached by Lehigh’s paper to draw some cartoons. Despite submitting a controversial Excel diagram that set back Lehigh’s Green Rating another five years, they must have liked my work. Because an hour before deadline, I got an email from an exasperated editor looking for a cartoon. After almost five minutes of work, I scribbled together a very shitty looking picture with a caption. In the process, I had unknowingly created the controversial piece of the week for the Brown and White.
I thought it was pretty tame too.
@Not Amused: I do find unusual the way you talk. Thanks for the input Yoda.
At least I have the Greeks behind me, the exact people I was intending to offend. Oh well. At this point, my two-minute attention span had run its course and I had lost interest in the comments. I did take notice of how the word “bitching” was censored. So I took it upon myself to post the most aggressively worded comment I could, just to see how the censor worked.
Three days later, I was notified that my comment, “shit balls, just testing! ;O” got rejected.
Last episode is right here.
Another long night on the job. Ralph hated stakeouts. He sat alone in his car, keeping a steady supply of caffeine in his veins just to make it through the night. The elementary school seemed calm and undisturbed. The only movement was the moths dancing under the streetlight. He sighed and reached for his coffee—
TAP, TAP, TAP
Ralph: What the balls?
Ralph dropped his coffee and rammed his knee into the steering wheel. He looked out his window to see Sam smiling down at him, a fine chick in the arm that wasn’t still tapping the window.
TAP, TAP, TAP
Sam: Buddy! Hey! What are you doing here?
Ralph lowers the window.
Ralph: Sam! You’ll scare the rapists away! Get out of here!
Sam: You’re fine, Buddy! Rapists don’t hang out here.
Ralph: How do you know?
Sam: Well, I used to hang out here.
Ralph: … Who’s your friend?
Sam: This is the girl I wanted you to meet. Ralph, Sam. Sam, this is Ralph. Just call him Buddy.
Ralph nodded his head and shook her hand through the window.
Ralph: Nice to meet you… Sam.
Her breasts bounced in the moonlight.
Ralph: (To Girl Sam) Sam, listen… there’s no way I’m going to be able to call you that. How about I just call you “Antha.”
Girl Sam: Perfect! That’s what all the ladies call me at work!
Ralph: Really? So what is it that you do?
Antha: I work at Victoria’s Secret with the working girls – I’m not a model myself, well I used to be, but now I’m focusing on corporate. They’re saying with my potential, I could be CEO.
Ralph: That is unbelievable, Antha.
Sam: Isn’t she amazing? I was showing the Johnsons that mansion over on Ridge Way at an open house, and Antha just happened to be there too.
Antha: And I just fell head over heels, right babe?
Sam: Haha! You sure did.
Sam leans down and pecks her on the cheek while cupping her breast. Buddy uncomfortably checks his phone. No one had called or texted him.
Sam: Well, Buddy, Antha and I are going to get going. She’s going to show me some of her work ideas.
Ralph: Sounds awesome. I’m going to look for rapists.
Ralph comes home and hears noises coming from Sam’s room. Sam and Antha are being loud.
“Oh! No! Don’t put it there! No! Don’t jump me! Ahhhh! …king me.”
Ralph busts into the room. Sam and Antha are playing Checkers.
Sam: Buddy. What’s up?
Ralph: Nothing. Sorry. Just got home from the stake-out.
Ralph slowly closes the door. He returns to the kitchen and throws some water on his face. Ralph doesn’t know how to feel anymore. His best friend, his roommate, his partner was hanging out all the time with this new chick and her outstandingly perky breasts. He decides to drown his sorrows by watching Bad Boys II and eating sugar-coated cereal. While taking the cereal from the cupboard, he notices a small box labeled, “Sam’s Emergency Drugs.”
Ralph pulls it out and turns it over in his hand. Inside is a small, white pill. Taking a deep breath and a small glass of water, he downs it. Ralph stands around waiting for something to happen, so he proceeds to the couch and begins screaming.
Ralph: Ahh! Ahh! Ahh!
Sam busts into the room in a clown costume. Antha is dressed as a safari guide.
Sam: What’s wrong?
Ralph: I don’t know… something has just… come over me. I feel… different.
Sam: Well, how different do you feel?
Ralph: You know (baiting Sam) … different.
Sam: This is ridiculous. Antha and I are getting back to our games.
Sam walks out of the living room, into his bedroom, again cupping Antha’s breast along the way. The line between reality and imagination seemed to be blurring. Ralph passes out on the couch. He doesn’t even notice his phone buzzing, or the text message that reads, “OMG 911!”
End of episode 4.
“Robbie in!” I exclaimed my new tagline, pumped my chest twice, and then flashed a peace sign as I entered the Special Winter Olympics Party being held at Lisa’s house. My friend Elijah and I were throwing a themed party celebrating the opening ceremonies of the Winter Olympics.
Lisa delivered me a subtle punch to the back of the head, “Robbie, seriously. Shut up. Your stupid catch phrase is so embarrassing.”
Ignoring her as usual, I casually wandered over to the two guests, Elijah and Lisa’s roommate Abby.
Elijah: “Hey Robbie, I’m not sure people really understood the whole theme behind this thing. You did tell them to dress as a country, right?”
Me: “Um, yes. And I think when they see THIS—“
I ripped off my smock to reveal the Star of David across my chest.
Elijah: “YES. YES! ISRAEL. I KNEW IT. You continue to be awesome.”
Lisa and Abby shared a concerned look.
Lisa: “First off, not only did Robbie not tell anyone about the theme, but he also didn’t even invite anyone else.”
Abby: “Thank god. Everything about this idea was inappropriate. The poor name choice, the costumes, and the opening ceremony isn’t even happening tonight. It was yesterday. This whole thing seems like it would be a little racis–”
I cut Abby off by throwing the Torah that was tucked in my belt at her.
Me: “No. I am going to make this party happen.” I bent to my knees and made the sign of the cross on my chest. “I swear to Moses I will.”
I winked at actually Jewish Elijah while somewhere in the world a priest’s head exploded. Elijah nodded back.
Elijah: “Hell yes he will.”
An hour later and I had somehow managed to fill every seat and then some. All of my friends were representing countries from all over the world, including Somalia, Canada, and Texas.
While everyone was having a good time drinking and talking, I had drunkenly become heavily involved with the preliminary rounds of curling.
Me: “How hard is this shit? It’s glorified bowling.”
I began practicing my curling technique in the hallway, impressing no one.
After the commercial break speed skating came on, which I also deemed easy as balls.
Me: “This is easy as balls. Come on! They’re barely even trying. Apolo Ohno is chump change. Does anyone know if Michael Phelps can skate?”
Next came on the luge, and I about turned it off.
Me: “Point your toes! Point your toes! Great athlete. Unbelievable toe pointing. Fuck this noise.”
Lo, I didn’t turn it off and this went on for a few hours spanning several sports, until we reached the mother of all sports: figure skating.
Me: “Oh my god.”
Abby: “Robbie, I’m going to fucking stab you if you say one more sport is easy. This is THE Winter Olympics, and they are ATHLETES.”
Me: “This… is… amazing.”
Me: “They are like angels dancing at sundown. I’ve never seen such grace. These are athletes.”
Elijah: “He’s confusing athletes and dancers again.”
Abby: “I don’t get his analogy.”
Me: “It’s like watching… angels on ice. Look at the grace, how do they even stay standing—“
The skater on the screen slipped, crashing to the ice. An icy silence enveloped the room while everyone uncomfortably awaited my reaction.
Me: “OK, this is not that hard.”
Abby: “You’re an asshole. Get out of my house.”
I pumped my chest twice before displaying my final peace sign of the evening.
The Buddy Copp saga written by me and Sam continues. Previous episode right here.
Episode 3 – First Day on the Job
Ralph’s alarm rings. He rolls over, turns it off. He sniffs the air – the aroma of coffee surprises him. He hops out of bed and runs to the kitchen. Sam is standing there in a suit.
Sam: “Buddy! Good morning! How about a cup?”
Ralph: “I don’t know what to say.”
Sam: “No need! I bought donuts!”
Ralph: “Are you on something?”
Sam: “Hardly! Just passion for my career Buddy –“
Sam’s phone starts buzzing. He glances down excitedly.
Sam: “I have to take this. Some clients just won’t leave you alone!”
He chuckles to himself as he walks out of the room. Ralph stands dumbfounded in the kitchen.
Sam arrives home and Buddy is sitting on the couch watching the TV. Sam is carrying groceries.
Sam: “Hey Ralph, I bought us some more milk and eggs. I saw we were running low.”
Ralph: “Why are you calling me by my given name?”
Sam: “Oh, sorry. I’ve been so formal with my clients all day. I made my first sale.”
Ralph: “Oh really? What?”
Sam: “A beautiful 1932 Georgian Bungalow. 3BR, 2.5 baths – a beautiful back porch –“ (Sam is interrupted)
Ralph: “Hey great. Do you want to maybe hit the town tonight?”
Sam: “Ah! No can do. I’m meeting a client at 7 tomorrow.”
Ralph: “Do you even know what happens at 7 AM?”
Sam: “Nope, but I’m terribly excited to find out!”
Sam skips out of the room, again leaving Ralph dumbfounded, but this time holding eggs and milk.
One week later.
Sam had been finding some success in real estate, leaving Ralph a little conflicted. His own numbers were down this week, mostly because Sam had accounted for around 20% of his arrests. Sure Ralph didn’t love Sam’s drug addiction, but he didn’t know this new Sam. He had drive and passion for his work. Just yesterday he had caught Sam networking on popular professional social media website LinkedIn.
Ralph is on his computer.
Ralph: “Come on… Sam has to be doing something bad… let’s check the history. What’s this? LinkedIn, LinkedIn, LinkedIn! This is awful!”
Sam steps in.
Sam: “Hey Ralph!—“
Sam: “Listen Buddy. I can’t go to the game tonight. I could be closing on a huge deal.”
Ralph: “Oh yeah. Awesome. Are you closing with some of your awesome LinkedIn buddies?”
Sam: “What? Oh Buddy no, LinkedIn isn’t for meeting potential clients, it’s for career networking. Although that wouldn’t be a bad idea.” (Sam winks at the camera) “Listen, you’ll get yours. Just keep your head down, work hard, and you can do anything in life.”
Ralph: “Inspired words! Are we ever going to hang out again?”
Sam: “Buddy. You need to hear something. I’ve met someone.”
End of episode 3.
My friend Dave recently got in a fight defending the honor of his roommate, which is probably the most awesome thing I’ve ever heard. From my understanding, it was a four on two cage fight. Around 2 AM, four bros came rolling up to their door to pick a fight with Dave’s roommate over a disagreement about a lighter.
Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock.
Dave got up from the couch to see who was there. From the fire in their eyes and aggressive pounding on the door alone, he could tell it was going to be trouble. He opened the door.
Dave: “Can I help you fellas with something?”
Douche 1: “Where’s Frankel? He owes me a fucking lighter.”
His boys behind him licked their lips and pounded their fists together menacingly.
Dave: “Look man, we don’t want any trouble. You know that you have no right to that lighter. I’ll get him, but he’ll just tell you to fuck off.”
Douche 1: “Yeah, go get him.”
Dave turned around to Frankel sitting on the couch.
Dave: “Frankel, it’s for you.”
Without hesitation, Frankel stood up and walked to the door like a total badass.
Frankel: “What the fuck’s up guys?”
At that moment Douche 1 jumped him, and began kneeing him in the chest. Dave hopped in and grabbed the Douche 1 from behind, immobilizing him with a swift elbow to the soft of his neck. Douches 2 through 4 started filing in to attack. For about a minute Dave and Frankel traded blows with the clan of Douches. But it was four on two, and Douche 3 had a little bit of weight to him.
Suddenly, three giant rugby players at a dead sprint towards the house begin yelling maniacally. It was their third roommate Luke and his two friends making their way back from the bar.
Upon seeing the three monsters approaching, the foursome of Douches scattered like the bitches they were.
The next day, Dave recounted this story to me. Like five times. Later that night, he hit me up on G-chat.
Dave: now that were housemates, if i get in a fight you have to help out. its standard rules
me: yeah dawg, i understand. that’s why i’m getting so big. we all saw me in the muscle shirt today.
Dave: that helps, but you also have to have some balls. im no big shot right now.
me: dude. i have balls.
Dave: I’m just saying you were questioning what you would have done in my situation yesterday
me: same as you i think, i wouldn’t have let my boy go down obviously
Dave: all I’m saying is there should be no thinking about it. you take a black eye for me, as i will for you. you know that’s always a risk of starting a little tussle
Sent at 8:49 PM on Tuesday
me: i’m telling your story to lisa
Dave: make me sound badass
me: i just made you sound so fucking awesome, because that’s the image i have in my head
Dave: cause i fuckin was, takin on a double team for my boy
Sent at 8:53 PM on Tuesday
me: i have fought so many people
Dave: i dont doubt it. i got your back next year too in case the townies pull a knife or something.
me: righteous dawg. it’s good to know that. shit like that happens. i was thinking about carrying a weapon next year.
Sent at 8:56 PM on Tuesday
Dave: what kind of weapon
Moral of the story: If you do something remotely cool, there is no limit to how awesome you can make yourself sound.
The job search continues. The only two recently open positions I know of are top professional golfer and late night television host. Now it’s hard to pass up the golf position because of all the poon, but I just feel like television host intern is way easier. Here is my submitted video resume.
This is the second installment in the Buddy Copp saga that my friend Sam and I are writing. To catch up, here’s a link to the first episode.
Sam is asleep on the couch. The clock reads 5:53 pm when Ralph walks in with groceries. He sees Sam and is visibly upset.
Ralph: Sam! Wake up!
Sam: (Wide eyed) Yes?
Ralph: I slave all day and all I expect is to come home and have a god damned home cooked meal!
Sam: So why’d you bring the groceries?
Ralph: I’ve had enough of this. You’re getting a job.
Sam: I’ll take that bet.
Ralph and Sam arrive in Ralph’s car at a job location. Sam is sitting in the back seat.
Ralph: Sam, do you have your resume?
Sam: My what?
Ralph: Your resume.
Sam: I thought I was getting a job.
Ralph: Come on. The piece of paper with your educational background and work experience.
Sam: I don’t know what that is.
Ralph: Maybe this was a bit brash.
Sam: Ralph, we’ve come too far. I’m ready to fucking do this!
Ralph: Oh my.
Ralph and Sam get out of the car and walk into Home Depot. A woman at the entrance greets them.
Greeter: Hello! How may I help you?
Ralph: He’s looking for a job.
Ralph looks around. Sam has disappeared. Greeter and Ralph run through the store looking for Sam. Finally they end up on the paint aisle. Sam is huffing a bright red.
Greeter: He can’t work here.
Ralph grabs Sam by the arm, looking very cop-like.
Ralph: Sam, we need to leave. I hope you know I have to pay for this paint now.
Sam: Shit. I would have picked a more earthy tone if I had known that. Let’s go ride the tractor.
Ralph: Honestly Sam. Was Fire-Engine red the best choice? And no, we can’t ride the tractor. It’s not a ride. It’s retail merchandise.
Sam: Eff you Mom!
Ralph: Did you just call me Mom?
Sam: No, I called you mon. We’re in Jamaica mon!
Ralph: No we’re not. We’re leaving.
Ralph, frustrated, and Sam, unemployed and covered in paint, are back in the cop car.
Sam: This is more fun than I expected Ralph. Should we try Staples?
Ralph: No Sam! You’re hopeless! You’d probably just try to high yourself up on rubber cement! I give up!
Sam: (Chuckling at Ralph’s drug retardation, but still seeking approval) No Ralph. Take me to Staples. I can do this.
Sam and Ralph hop out of the car and walk into Staples.
Greeter: Hello! Welcome to Staples! How may I help you?
Sam: I’m going to work on you!
Ralph: (Whispering) with…
Sam: I’m going to with on you!
Greeter: Okay, well, let me just go and get an application.
Greeter walks away.
Ralph: Sam, I meant for you to say, “I’m going to work with you.”
Sam: Shhh. I know what I’m doing.
Greeter returns moments later carrying the application.
Ralph: I’d like to go ahead and apologize for my friend here. He’s not the best with words, but he’s a great worker.
Greeter: That’s fine. You wouldn’t believe some of the invalids we employ here.
Greeter: Speaking of which, where did he go?
Ralph: (Turning around) Oh f—
Back in the car, Sam is again covered in paint.
Ralph: Look, I don’t even know what you were thinking. You know there is no way to get high off of water color.
Sam: Ralph, I’ve found my calling.
Ralph: What? What are you thinking?
Sam: As I ran outside of Staples, I saw a sign.
Ralph: Were you hallucinating?
Sam: No, it was a “For Sale” sign. I’m going to be a realtor.
Ralph, with tears in his eyes, embraces Sam.
Ralph: Let’s go ride that tractor.
Ralph and Sam are sitting on a stationary tractor together in Home Depot, each licking an ice cream cone.
End of episode 2.