Are you also named Brian McFadden, or know someone who is?
If so, you might want to make sure you’re using the right email address. I hopped on the Gmail train early, and therefore don’t have any numbers or wacky shit in my address. I get dozens of emails for all these other Brian McFaddens (including this douche) every month. I ignore them, but felt guilty about it after mentioning it on Twitter this morning. (Thanks, Blake!)
Obviously, I’m not a fan of the religiousy parts of Xmas, but in the winter-solstice spirit, I feel like these two shouldn’t go ignored.
The first is presumably for some Brian McFadden who can either play the piano or lead singers by some other means. Mind control?
I learned today we have no piano player for the 4:15 Mass in the school hall on Christmas Eve.
Would you be interested in leading the singing? The parish will pay $50 – the amount they would play the piano player.
If you are interested, please let me know. I have another possibility so, please do not feel pressured.
Thank you so much,
I wouldn’t want a case of mistaken identity to cheat this song-and-dancin’ Brian McFadden out of the $50 he has coming to him. And in Brian McFadden solidarity, fuck that other possibility!
The second one is the latest from the man who’s been sending me emails for months under the impression that I am his son.
Santa detail this weekend, sign up at the firehouse.
This is kinda bossy. Seriously, not even a “please,” fake dad? But they might need a Santa for Toys for Tots or some other charity, and his real son might be a dick who’s worthy of such curtness. I don’t know.
Finally, to all those Brian McFaddens who deliberately put my email on mailing lists and shit, screw you guys. You’re why I don’t bother replying to the real fuck-ups.