In the past few years, I’ve received my share of criticism for what has been called an “obsession” with Ryan Reynolds. It all started when I published what I thought was a respectful and even too nice article in which I solemnly and bravely announced I would never work with Reynolds on any project creative or otherwise (like, for instance gardening or mule hunting, which I understand he is really into and I, like most humans, abhor). I thought that would be it, but it was not of course because Reynolds continued to make decisions that got him in the news in ways that demanded my response and insight into who he is and what he does.
Like a solitary man living in a mountain stronghold, I have hidden from the public for some time now. This is mostly owing to the backlash from my criticisms of Reynolds. His legions of fanatic crypto-Canadians are some of the most vicious and bitter adversaries I have ever faced, making me like the Omega Man to their snarling, nocturnal freaks.
Turns out that Chandler from “Friends” says Reynolds stole his quirky comedy shtick in the 90’s and this altered his career or history or something (I didn’t read the whole article but you can). Anyway, I related immediately to this theft because I’ve had more things stolen from me by Reynolds than Matthew Perry or many Native American tribes have from the U.S. government. I don’t want to make a big deal out of this, so I’ll just list a few of my losses below:
1. My credibility as a financial money manager.
People will say I never had the credentials or education required to legally manage other people’s money, but had Reynolds offered me the chance to “play” with a bit of his fortune, I believe I would have easily doubled it, which would have resulted in him saying, “Shit, Ed, you’re really good at this, you should do this for a living,” at which point I would have brought up the whole thing about not having any licenses or background and that I was just kind of guessing because I had “feelings” that led me to make decisions and that these feelings manifested in a voice that would say “buy!” or “sell!” or “jump out that window, motherfucker!” I think that as our conversation evolved after that, Reynolds would have set me up in a business school somewhere or maybe would have made me his shadow CFO who doesn’t “technically” make all his money decisions but just “suggests” them to his actual CFO, who’s like my bitch.
2. My “fake,” reserve penis.
Fake penises don’t have feeling and they are like holding a wooden stick, basically, but if you run out of your actual penis, don’t tell me you don’t want something in reserve for an emergency. Since Reynolds is constantly guarded by an entourage (I guess) I developed a plan in which I would throw my fake penis to him when he exited his limousine at a red-carpet event. I would shout, “Hey Ryan, hold my dick!” and then I would whip it at him, and he would catch it, laugh, and be like, “That’s funny!” And we would share a moment as the paparazzi snapped pic after pic of Ryan and my massive false cock. But instead, I lost my fake dick when I was practicing my throw near a canyon. I feel strongly to this day that if Reynolds had not always put out this totally unapproachable vibe, I would have been able to simply walk up to him in public and say, “Here. Hold my dick,” and he would have laughed his ass off. But because of the distance he demands, I have no fake penis now.
3. My synergy with the universe.
Again, haters will insist that either I never had an elevated, transcendental connection with the cosmos or that my connection has nothing to do with Ryan Reynolds. To this I retort that because Ryan Reynolds is part of the universe, all arguments against me are void. At one point I could harmonize with insects and plants as well as low-level humans such as Australians. I realized I had this gift at a young age when a buzzing bee asked me to make shrimps on a barbee and I had no idea what it meant until someone told me that’s the stupid thing Australians say. I asked him why do they say that? And he was like, uh, I don’t know. And I was like, then why are you even talking? And he was like, because you approached me in a Target parking lot and asked me what it meant to make shrimps on a barbee. I looked at him and I was like, a Barbie doll? I don’t get it. And he was like, no, a barbecue or a grill, and I was like, what the fuck are you talking about? Anyway, Ryan Reynolds took that away from me.
4. My move to buy a crappy soccer team with my creepy little buddy and turn it around by using my celebrity.
This one probably hurts the most because as many of my closest confidantes know, I had been planning for many years to purchase a 7th division Bulgarian “football” club with my adjutant and part-time life coach Speedy Bikino (not his real name, so consider yourself thwarted if you try to look him—or is it her?—up). While my plan deviated slightly from Reynolds’ more mundane and safe one, I planned to basically do an adult version of “Welcome to Wrexham,” where it would be set in Bulgaria and it would be porn and it wouldn’t be about soccer really.
5. My idea for the Mintinator Tequila phone.
You know what the problem is with Tequila? It makes your breath stink, and you can’t make phone calls with it. I solved that problem with my mint-flavored tequila whose bottle was also a cell phone. Then, out of nowhere, Reynolds comes up with Mint Mobile and Aviator Gin. Similar to how my Bulgarian soccer team gambit imploded, I woke up one morning to Speedy banging on my door, asking me if I’d read the newspaper and then when I got up and opened the door, he was there, holding the paper with a huge headline that read: “Reynolds to do a mint-flavored phone company and also brew alcohol.” I was devastated and fell to my knees. As Speedy held me, I just kept muttering, “Can’t he leave something for me? Can’t he leave something?” Answer: No. Because he exists to take from me.
NOTE TO SELF: Do NOT include this in the article because they will NOT proof your copy and will put in anything you submit. Find Chandler and see if he will join forces with you to defeat Reynolds. Don’t approach him from a position of weakness. Make him think you are the one he needs and not the other way around. Maybe a secretive note slipped under his door? Saying something like “I’ve been watching you for a while and you have passed all the tests?” Yes. Good. Also, have him meet you on a mountain or something, so that the experience for him is more mythic. Insist he come naked so that you are both vulnerable and aren’t wired? Think about that one. Possible first lines when you meet him: “Hey Chandler, hold my dick.” Or, “Matthew Perry… I’ll bet you never thought you’d be on a mountain naked with another dude.” Or, “I guess Ross wasn’t available…” Maybe the second one, depending on whether we do the naked thing. Also, wear a mask so you can do a reveal later.
Ed Mountaineer is an opinion columnist for the Intergalactic Business Report. He was hired after we encountered him at a Taco Bell. He can be reached at email@example.com. If you would like to hire Ed, please see his résumé here.
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