The Vondrook Internal Memo
Vondrook Internet Magazine
|Mike Jenkins (Head Writer)|
|Michael Jenkins (Founder and CEO)|
|Mikey J (Assistant Editor), The Jenks (Marketing Department), Mikey Jenky (Distribution)|
|November 6, 2014|
Listen. It has been a solid month since we went to a self-hosted server for our website and to be honest, our numbers are not where they should be. There are a number of things that could be to blame for this, such as the plummeting literacy rate in this country or maybe the fact that Lebron is back in Cleveland. We could point fingers all over the place to articulate why this “magazine” is doing so terribly, but last I checked, we don’t publish excuses; we publish comedy articles. And to that end, obviously, the blame is on Mike Jenkins.
Mike, I am calling you out on the company memo here to address your terrible lack of ideas and, let’s face it—skill, regarding your work over the last few weeks. You’re the head writer at this magazine and we are averaging a total of 2.3 views a day.
Two-point-three. That means that two full people and one third of a person’s eyes are scanning our homepage every day. I tried to bring this up to you earlier and you said that your brother likes to look at it once a day. At least once a day. Your brother. Well, whoop-dee-fucking doo, Jenkins! Is that what I am supposed to tell our investors when they take a look at these numbers? They’ll want my head on a plate and I am going to go, “Oh, no, guys, calm down. It’s going to be ok. Mike’s brother is a big fan of our stuff.”
I am beginning to regret ever putting you at the Head Writer position, Jenkins. You never really did any serious comedy writing before so I don’t know why I took a chance on you. You must have met with me right at the peak of my cough syrup addiction. The only writing you ever did was filling out those Mad Libs books in the middle of the aisle at the drug store. That doesn’t make you a writer, Mike. By that logic, if I were to go to the top of this building and fire myself off the roof (which is not a stretch of the imagination), I could be labeled a bird.
But I do remember you and your little lackey, Mikey J, coming into my office and convincing me that you two had a huge wealth of funny ideas that you could take onto a private server and possibly accumulate some new readers for our magazine. I guess I was still riding high from when we made the Editor’s Choice for that one article about the husband and wife having sex over their dying son with Domino’s pizza.
Were you too, on cough syrup?
We have gained no new readers and actually lost 2 subscribers. I guess they didn’t like the special sauce, Rick.
And I was excited. I was super-enthused for the re-launch. I even called in all the favors I could so that you could get an interview with the one and only Andrew McCarthy, and what do you do? You squander it completely. Did you ever think to ask him about the first Weekend at Bernies? All you did was talk about the second one! Nobody wants to talk about that! The first Weekend is the one that defined a generation. What an amateur. What if you sat down with Marlon Brando and talked about nothing except for The Freshman? That’s basically what you did.
Oh, and speaking of subscribers, you’ll be happy to know that when you listed a porn/pimp bot as our Follower of the Month, you opened a floodgate of other porn bots to subscribe to our magazine. Honestly, 30 percent of our subscribers are not even people; they’re computer programs that offer nothing but smut all on a search for your credit card number. Do you know what that’s like? Imagine taking a bath and 30 percent of the warm water is actually urine. And it’s not even yours.
Now, look, here’s what we need: content. We need lots and lots of content out of you and I want you working in tandem with The Jenks in Marketing and see what he can come up with as far as tags and whatnot.
It’s time to get fucking serious, guys. I don’t care if you found a copy of Mega Man V in your closet; you’re not playing it. I also better not see any of you guys hanging around the coffee-maker playing grab-ass and jerking each other around. And don’t try to tell me that you have things going on in your personal life. I know as well as you that you don’t have a personal life. Shoot, just the other day I saw Mikey J dig into his ear for an honest-to-god minute and then smell his finger. No. None of you guys have personal lives to sacrifice here. And we don’t have time for that stuff anyhow. We have to get it together. We are a sinking ship and I am desperate to get rid of some dead weight around here.
I’ll see you assholes in the mirror.
Michael T. Jenkins
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