I want to become internet famous like The Bloggess.  Or Jenna Marbles.  Or all the other people who rock while still writing and creating from their hearts, compromising nothing about their personalities and senses of humor in the process.

The only problem?  Every idea I have will get me fired.

It’s not like I have ideas specifically to become famous.  These are things Mr. Sammich and I are already doing in the privacy of our own home.  It’s just that I know there are thousands — maybe millions — of people who would love to join in on the following:

• Drunk literature reading and analysis.  Like Drunk History, only, you know, with literature reading and analysis instead.
• A podcast of Mr. Sammich and I discussing random shit.  The things that come out of our mouths are brilliant, you guys.  Seriously.
• A reenactment of the most unbelievable things that have actually happened in the classroom.
• A guide to sexual innuendo in the most innocent of words and phrases WITH accompanying audio recording.
• A photo journal of things people should NEVER wear in public, featuring people who made the mistake of wearing those things in public.
• Video evidence of me trying to put makeup on after a bottle of wine.
• A collection of all the ways I’ve murdered people in my head.
• Footage of my friends and me on a 4 AM Steak ‘n Shake run after the bar circa 2006.
• A self-published reality TV series starring my family and me at the summer cottage. (Shit gets really inappropriate and really weird, really fast.)
• A YouTube channel filled with videos of Mr. Sammich and I parodying gangsta rap.
• A stand-up routine of me telling dick jokes.
• A recording of my friends and me molesting the bouncer at the local bar.
• Pictures of that one night we hung out with Kevin Nealon.
• Everything I did in 2000.
• And stuff like this:

I’m sitting on a gold mine, you guys. Too bad public schools frown on this sort of behavior.