A message from the Editor's desk.

Greetings faithful readers, and welcome to the first ever Freinds of McDougal Behind the Scenes Week!

Sorry it's a bit late, first of all. We had every intention of starting Behind the Scenes Week yestereday morining, but in hindsight this was an unrealistic goal. Sunday mornings are reservered for hangovers. Everybody knows that. The revised goal of Sunday afternoon was also unrealistic, as sunday afternoons are reserved for league softball. (We played the writing staff from that "Lonelygirl" blog yesterday. It was a squeaker, we ended up losing 9-8, which drops us below .500 and pretty much destroys all hope of capturing a wild card spot) Afterwards we were really in no condition to write a blog entry, which is perfectly understandable for anyone who has ever played league softball. I mean, what would softball be without beer and peyote, right? I had high hopes for sunday night, since there would be no football this week. But sports betting is a longstanding tradition here at the office and McDougal wanted to use the off weekend to work everyone up to a pre-superbowl frenzy by staging, right in the office, a cockfight between roosters named "Bear" and "Colt." For the record, Colt won, but lost his left eye in the process. Place your Superbowl bets acccordingly.

Anyway, here it is, Monday night, and we realized that we should either delay the start of Behind the Scenes Week, or someone had better write something. Personally, I was in favor of another delay, but the guys in the mailroom are sick of answering angry letters from someone named "Carl Spackler." There are more employees in the mailroom than on the editorial staff, so they managed to carry the vote. McDougal abstained, which is to say he is still passed out, and the writing staff has used "Behind the Scenes Week as an excuse to take a week's vacation. I think that's bullshit, by the way. Ever since they added the screenwriting division they;ve been taking more and more time off. Everyone else had to work over the holidays, but they all skated out somehow, which was a bit hit to the quality of this blog in my opinion. Last year's Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year's segments were some of our most popular ever, but this year the website sat idle for all three. Not a peep from management about it either. Too busy getting sucked off by the writing staff I guess...

Oh, I guess I'm supposed to answer some letters too. OK, our first letter comes from alert reader Josh Williams, of Indianapolis, India.

Josh writes:

When McDougal bitch slaps you and humiliates you in front of your friends for doing or not doing your job do you pray to God that you are fortunate enough to have a job in retail?

Retail? Josh, I am an editor, with twelve years of experience. I do not work in retail. OK, yes.. I do also maintain the website that sells Starbox Productions t-shirts and McDougal trinkets, but I don't consider myself to be a "retail worker." I have a master's degree. As for the beatings at the hands of McDougal, they are frequent and severe. During them I often pray to God, Josh, but mostly I pray that the beating will end. Failing that, I pray that I will black out before the sodomy begins.

Our next question comes from the aforementioneed Carl "Hot Carl" Spackler*:

which does mcdougal prefer...coke or pepsi?

Coke, Carl. Kilos and kilos of coke. Without McDougal the economy of Columbia wouulld collapse overnight. McDougal does like Pepsi too, though. Sometimes he wil mix the two. He will mix them into an enema, for quicker absorbtion, which I will then be forced to inject into his anus. He says the bubbles tickle. The whole time he giggles and kicks his feet. It can be quite dangerous. I've had my jaw broken before.

Well, that's all we have time for today.** Join us again tomorrow when we will be answering more reader questions on Friends of McDougal: Behind the Scenes Week!

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* As far as I know Carl Spackler does not go by the nickname "Hot Carl," however, as this is a popular internet nickname for anyone named Carl, I have included it here. This is what editors do.

** This is a baldfaced lie. I have all the time in the world. Truthfully, when I started writing this I was still a little drunk form last night. But as time wore on, my buzz wore off and now I can feel the iron grip of a massive hangover imbeding its jagged fingernails into my skull. My left eye is twitching. I have nothing but contempt for you all.