The title of world’s top Internet blog being awarded to Tychy by the Chancellor of the Exchequer who has determined said prize since 1844, sent shockwaves throughout the Botendaddy newsroom.
The newsroom is straight out of 1977 with prototype Xeroax Altoe Computers and anachronistic clattering QBM Selectras, myriad desks, aluminum coffee pots, other crap from the prop room and some old guy shrieking about ‘not gonna take it anymore’ in an overrated 70’s theme film.
The shocked Botendaddy team, dressed in tie and tails or exquisite Quersace gowns sat in the back row of the ceremony at the Louvre.
“All the analysts were wrong, we did AI, Data analytics, moneyball… Botendaddy is literary bowel movement of the lowest order. No-one is reading it anymore. The last reader was found dead on the third floor of a Tijuaná flop house with a deck of cards missing a deuce of hearts in one pocket and a .45 in the other, lying in a pool of his own or someone else’s vomit and several dangling modifiers.” Shroake the Librarian. “Now we have to lay of at least 5,000 people.”
House Select Committee on Extreme anti-Americanism. Representative with bolo tie and fake Hollywood southern accent in fake black and white video.
“Now, as chief information officer of the shitty social media company know as Botendadco, what did the subversive (Pronounced sub-voice-I’ve) Botendaddy know and when did he know it?”
Shroake Congressman Beauregard DeBlois Chantigny, III (also know as the Coynel)
“Uh like, your honor. We can’t find the Botendaddy. He’s gone… gone.”
Shroake the Swole’ Bro
“This the most epic journalistic and literary struggle since Voltaire vs. LeRochfocaud!”
Shroake the Stalker
Watching on C-Span live feed from the top floor of a wicked with like castle in Scotland two ‘lone’ figures wrong their hands and laugh maniacally in a rising crescendo of… evil.
Tychy 
The title of world’s top Internet blog being awarded to Tychy by the Chancellor of the Exchequer who has determined said prize since 1844, sent shockwaves throughout the Botendaddy newsroom.
The newsroom is straight out of 1977 with prototype Xeroax Altoe Computers and anachronistic clattering QBM Selectras, myriad desks, aluminum coffee pots, other crap from the prop room and some old guy shrieking about ‘not gonna take it anymore’ in an overrated 70’s theme film.
The shocked Botendaddy team, dressed in tie and tails or exquisite Quersace gowns sat in the back row of the ceremony at the Louvre.
“All the analysts were wrong, we did AI, Data analytics, moneyball… Botendaddy is literary bowel movement of the lowest order. No-one is reading it anymore. The last reader was found dead on the third floor of a Tijuaná flop house with a deck of cards missing a deuce of hearts in one pocket and a .45 in the other, lying in a pool of his own or someone else’s vomit and several dangling modifiers.” Shroake the Librarian. “Now we have to lay of at least 5,000 people.”
House Select Committee on Extreme anti-Americanism. Representative with bolo tie and fake Hollywood southern accent in fake black and white video.
“Now, as chief information officer of the shitty social media company know as Botendadco, what did the subversive (Pronounced sub-voice-I’ve) Botendaddy know and when did he know it?”
Shroake Congressman Beauregard DeBlois Chantigny, III (also know as the Coynel)
“Uh like, your honor. We can’t find the Botendaddy. He’s gone… gone.”
Shroake the Swole’ Bro
“This the most epic journalistic and literary struggle since Voltaire vs. LeRochfocaud!”
Shroake the Stalker
Watching on C-Span live feed from the top floor of a wicked with like castle in Scotland two ‘lone’ figures wrong their hands and laugh maniacally in a rising crescendo of… evil.