The Jon Gosselin Robbery Diaries

Dear Diary,

His, it’s me again, Jon.  Jon Gosselin.  You know, from Jon and Kate Plus Eight.  It’s a show.  Well, it was a show.  On TLC.  The Learning Channel.  Gosselin.  We had 8 kids.  Big divorce, I’m an asshole, she’s a shrew, we ruined our kids, no one learned anything?  Any of this ringing a bell?

I have this idea I want to run by you.  As you may remember from previous entries, I am useless.  I honestly have no special skills.  Even mundane skills.  Have you heard how people use dung as fuel, or they can turn it into paper, or make houses out of it?  I can’t do any of that.  Dung has many more uses than I do.  But inexplicably I can still get into tabloid magazines.  I think this is because tabloids are produced by and for people with serious mental delays.  I mean, who the fuck reads US magazine?  Can people who read US magazine actually read?  Real brain buster that is.  Plus I’m not very bright, so it’s extra hard for me to try to figure out.

Anyway, since I’m useless yet appeal to the lowest common denominator, of whom there are many and who therefore influence idiotic pop culture trends, I figure I should exploit that.  There were so many big words in that last sentence, I feel dizzy.  Brb, think I need to vomit.

K, I’m back.  Didn’t vomit, just wept.  So I have this idea to get back in the news since I’ve faded away now that I can’t ruin the lives of 8 children on television anymore.  I’m totally going to trash my own shit.  Isn’t that hella awesome?!?!  The extra punctuation means I already know that the answer is yes.  I’ll write back when I know more, my brain is cramping right now.

Dear Diary,

It’s me, Jon.  For fuck’s sake, Jon Gosselin.  I wrote to you yesterday.  No one else writes in here, you know.  It’s just me.

So yeah, remember how I had a plan to mess up my own shit?  I totally did it!  I…hmm?  I was going to fake a robbery.  Like in my house.  I planned to ransack my stuff, you know?  It’s written right above this.  Gosselin.  Jon Gosselin!  With the 8 kids.

Ok, so yeah, I totally messed up my own shit.  Ha ha!  I cut up a pair of really nice shoes.  Man, they were so nice.  And now they’re ruined!  People are going to love me again!

Gosselin.  Jon Gosselin.  I was on TLC.  Jon and Kate Plus 8.  Yeah, she looked kind of like a man.  Yes, I look kind of like a Polynesian lesbian.  Man, I can’t wait for the publicity to roll in like sweet, sweet wheels or office chairs or whatever.

Dear Diary,

Shit man, things may have backfired for me.  Gosselin.  With a G.  Some people think I trashed my own stuff.  Because, you know, who the fuck cares enough about me to trash my stuff?  The local paper took a poll and it turns out the answer +/- 1% is no one anywhere.

I guess I never thought of that, on account of my inability to think right and stuff.  It’d be like someone breaking into an alley and defacing the fridge box some hobo lives in.  Or someone crushing a dung beetle’s ball of dung.  Remember how I’m more useless than dung?  Fuck am I useless.  I mean, my ex-wife is useless too, and we’re both horrible people, but man.  Man!  Sometimes I sit alone at night and wonder why I exist.  Not in that way you wonder why we, as people exist, I mean me.  Jon Gosselin.  I don’t wonder if I have a point, I’m pretty sure I don’t, I just wonder how often accidents like me occur.  You know how two-headed cows get born every once in a while?  At least they get to be in the circus.  God damn am I useless.

Anyway, looks like the gig is up.  I should have known.  No one robs a worthless attention whore, do they?  Anyway, want a milkshake?