Catching Up With: NTC!

I was at a cocktail party a few weeks ago when the hostess found out I was part of "one of those blogs.... on the internet." As much as I tried to steer the conversation to other topics, she just kept coming back to the blog. She had her reasons: "Our daughter, Brayleigh, is doing a report on 'blogs' for her 8th grade English class -- they're doing a unit on 'journalism.' It would be so wonderful of you if you'd allow her to conduct an interview." Tight from martinis and dry with excuses, I consented.

I gave Brayleigh a week to research NTC and set a time. It was a phone interview.

--Interview Transcript--

Brayleigh: Hey.

Q: Hi.

Brayleigh: So I read your blog. It was sort of weird. I didn't understand much of it. Like, where'd you get the name for it? Is that an old band?

Q: Um, no, it's not a band name. It's just... a play on words, but not like a pun... kind of Alanis-ironic? I was a little drunk when I thought of it. And you probably wouldn't understand much of it, because it's mostly inside jokes and adult humor and old pop culture references.

Brayleigh: Right. Well, why did you decide to put yourself out there on the internet?

Q: I don't know. Honestly, I don't. It was probably a really poor decision. But I don't like to quit, so there it is.

Brayleigh: Uh-huh. Why did you invite other people to put posts up?

Q: Well, I didn't have enough time to post much and I was having email conversations about things with my friends where we'd say "this is funny. it should be on the internet." So, we made that happen. Now, instead of 4 people laughing at each other's jokes, we're joined by another 5 people.

Brayleigh: Why did you have those moustache pictures up for so long? That was gross.

Q: You're gross. And I think those were sexy. Mostly mine, though. Z's was second rate. And he cheated.

Brayleigh: Did you just call me gross?

Q: I have no idea what you're talking about.

Brayleigh: What happened to "C"?

Q: I killed him.

Brayleigh: What?

Q: With Protestant whiskey.

Brayleigh: Why is your blog so racist?

Q: Next question.

Brayleigh: What? No. Answer that. It's a fair question.

Q: You're a fair question.

Brayleigh: Did you just call me--

Q: Look, I could ask you why you're such a stupid whore who can't even understand the hilarity of the most general of 80's references---

Brayleigh: I'm 14! I was born in '93!

Q: Whatever! My point is that girls shouldn't be reporters, so, NEXT QUESTION.

[phone beeps]

Brayleigh: Hang on, that's my other line.

[Q waits for five minutes]

Brayleigh: Sorry. My friends are so dumb! Anyway. What can we expect from your blog in the coming months?

Q: Um, well... more of the same, probably... Lack of posts. Inside jokes. Intellectual farting. Elitism. Posts consisting of two large photos from "M." References to things that happened before you were born.

Brayleigh: Sounds boring. Sorry. Um, are you glad you started a blog?

Q: Now that I've talked to you and had to think about what this thing is, no. In fact, I'll probably get drunk at some point in the next few months and take it all down. And then burn the computer that it began on, in my front lawn. Though mostly I'll just think about doing all that. And then pour another whiskey. Protestant whiskey.

Brayleigh: Wow. Ok! Well, thanks for talking to me. My mom says hello!

Q: No problem. My best to your parents. Good luck with your paper or article or whatever.

Brayleigh: Thanks!

Q: Oh, can I post this interview on NTC? I recorded it and it'll save me having to do an original post.

Brayleigh: You recorded it?

Q: You can never be too careful.

Brayleigh: Of what?

Q: Everything.

Brayleigh: Ok... whatever. Sure, post it... I don't care. No one I know reads your blog anyways.

Q: More people than that don't read it. But, yeah, thanks.

Brayleigh: Bye. [click]

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