Proof

All right, all right, you jackals clamoring for the scan of my Rolling Stone appearance (previous post is here in case you are too lazy to use the scrolly thing on your mouse). Here it is. And apologies, my scanner sucks.

I assure you, they spelled my name incorrectly. Mind you, I am now almost six years older and almost six times hotter. And to answer the riddle of the universe that you all must have after seeing this: I think the person next to me on the page is a girl.

Looking back at what they posted as my quote, it is more robotic than Jar Jar Binks. It's not like they put me down as saying "Meesa think Elliott putsa on a gooood showza!" They just made me sound like Twiki from Buck Rogers. I don't sound like that in real-life. I assure you I do not sound like that in real-life. It would not compute to sound like that in real-life. Danger, Will Robinson.

Anyway, I really said a bunch of stuff, but they pulled out three random sentences and arranged them to appear like a cohesive quote so I ended up sounding like an idiot. It could have been worse, I suppose. I'm sure they could have used these three random sentences instead:

"I thought Elliott's best song tonight was 'Junk Bond Trader'. I have to get up pretty early tomorrow morning. I really don't understand how some people can dig on rhubarb pie."

Thank goodness they didn't use that, or people would have REALLY thought I was a lunatic.

As harrowing as this foray into my missed 15-minute past was, it did have a positive bi-product. No, I didn't get a sense of self-empowerment because I was able to come face-to-face with a traumatic event in my life. I ended up stumbling across an old issue of Maxim with Elisha Cuthbert on the cover while looking for Rolling Stone! Sweet.

There's just something about my honesty that speaks to people,

- Dim.