UnBooks:A Day In The Life Of A Redirect
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Well here I am, your average wiki redirect, nothing particularly flashy about me. I've never been an article or anything cool, like that, but I've been doing my redirecting job faithfully since 12th February 2008, I have. Redirecting this way and that. Well just this way, I only get to redirect one way. But I've had quite a party in the time I've been a redirect. It's been tough, emotionally wracking at times, but very rewarding. Of course it wasn't my choice to be a redirect. It would have been cool to be one of those shiny, fancy articles, but you've got to live with what you are, haven't you? Those popular page-hit-whores - you know I'm talking about you Kitten Huffing - damn it, they're so...so...Anyway... So now that I'm getting quite old I thought I should start gathering my memoirs. You know, there hasn't been a single redirect biography? For the moment, I thought people might be interested to read a sneak preview of my up-and-coming biography of my first day as a redirect...
Tuesday - 12th Feb 2008
Suddenly I'm alive and I'm a redirect. Wow, this "living" shit is good. I should do this more often. So what do I redirect to? Something, good, right? I better go and check that...
FUCKING PARIS HILTON. I redirect to Paris Hilton, I'm not some nice redirect, I redirect to fucking Paris Hilton. I'm there for idiots who can't spell "Paris Hilton"! Who would honestly misspell it "Parsi Hilton"? 'Cause that's what I am: a redirect from "Parsi Hilton" to Paris Hilton. What the fuck? Huh. Oh well, I guess I've got a job to do... Oh wait, I'm feeling extremely indignant at the moment...FUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!
Redirected no people so far, no people redirected today, no hits and no ratings. Oh I so badly want to be one of those linksluts. One of those big, tough articles with more links than are good for them. Those guys look sooo cool. They're so butch and hot and stuff. And damn it, why am I the weedy little redirect huh? I'm never gonna get featured, never. I guess I could do something cool which could earn me some respect....
...I know! I'll redirect someone to the wrong page! A ha! Oh but then I might get replaced. And besides the poor person I misdirected! I've got to think of them. What did they ever do to me. Hm? Nothing, that's what. So why take my rage out on them? I've got to be just and fair and shit.
I need a cigar. Jeese this redirect thing is hard work. Still no hits, though. Well no one's gonna misspell Paris Hilton, are they? Cause when you need to type Paris Hilton, and you're right in the middle of something, you can't afford to misspell it, can you? Wow, this is boring, but I guess I've got to tackle my job with honour. Tackle, that actually sounds a bit extreme. I don't want to do any tackling, thank you very much. I could sit at home with slippers on and a nice cup of tea. That would be perfect, but, as I've said, there's a gritty job to be done and so I'm just going to have to do it. Knuckle down and jump, head first, into the dusty, dirty job of redirecting.
ONE HIT! YES! I got a hit, bring me the bitchs and fucking hookers, I'm throwing a partay! A hit, bitch! Should be a song. A song about getting my first hit! I could swear graciously, I mean gratuitously, and piss my record company off and do drugs and go to rehab, and tire my mouth out saying "no". But I can't. I'm a redirect, and I guess I can't write songs. Or sing, I definitely can't sing. And I guess I can't really get hookers either, because I don't have a phone. Hell, what do hookers even do? They sound painful, man.
And next hit I get, I'm so going to redirect them to the wrong page or doing something badass like that. They're not going to know what hit them.
I was just dreaming about that one hit. That person who got redirected must be dreaming about it, too, by now, thinking "what a good job that redirect page did". Of course they never actually saw me or anything, they just got redirected straight away, but still! Ahh, it was so exhilarating. Exhilarating and satisfying! I could quite take to this whole "redirect" thing. It's such an honour. Such a responsibility, such a hard job. I'm gonna be the best damn redirect of all time!
No more hits. I was thinking, if I do get another redirect, I'm not going to do anything badass. I may get huffed. I don't want to get huffed. I'm just going to direct them to the right place. Don't want to risk extinction. I have been checking over my stats, though, and I'm quite proud of them. I have 1 hit, I've redirected one user once, I've been in existence for 2 hours and 54 minutes. I've been edited once and my talkpage has never been edited. Quite a rock 'n' roll lifestyle I've been leading over the last 2 hours and 54 minutes. I'm like that, though, I like to live on the edge, to play dangerous. I like messing with fire, sometimes you get burnt, sometimes you get lucky. Yes, that's my life, a lot of people are envious, actually. Such a free life, such a sexy, edgy life. Ahhh, yup, that's the kinda redirect I am.
This is dull. Nothing much has happened and it's been another hour and a bit. No one's come looking for "Parsi Hilton" yet. Why would you look for "Parsi Hilton", anyway? If you can't spell the name, you shouldn't be allowed to see the page. Seriously, if you're that stupid, you shouldn't be allowed! It should be illegal to be that stupid.. Maybe I should campaign... campaign to get me deleted...er. Maybe I'll, er, forget that idea...not one of the sharpest, brightest ideas I've ever had. On an unrelated matter, I think I need a talkpage. All the swanky redirects have talkpages. I need a talkpage. Maybe I should go and make one.
That's actually quite a good idea. Sexy, sweet, teen talkpage... here I come.
Talkpage about to be created; damn is it funny and sexy! So sexy, so funny. It reads "
PENIS!!!! LOLOLOlOLOLOLOLO!!!11!!!!!!!1!!! SAVE THE REDIRECTS LOL XD !@!@2221111!!!!". Damn awesome talkpage.
Oh...I'm a redirect, I can't create pages. Oh damn. It didn't work. I don't have a talkpage... Oh well, I guess I'll have to live with it. I managed to get along without a talkpage before, so I should be fine. It'll be fine.
Nope, I can't do this. I need a talkpage, or I may do something stupid. Oh god, I don't know what I'd do. I think, I just need a fucking talkpage! DO YOU HEAR ME? A talkpage...oh please, I need a talkpage.
Not having a talkpage is the new cool, apparently. I'm so trendy, I have a red discussion tab, and that's the new thing. It's like ripped jeans are the new thing. Well, they were the new thing when I was a kid, which was about five hours ago. Mind you people have always told me that I'm living ten years behind everyone else...not that people talk to me on a regular basis, out of personal choice. They just talk to me when they have to. They usually tell me how much I suck, but I don't mind.
So now I'm the new trendy. Parsi Hilton leading style trends for redirects internet-wide. The new hit redirect celebrity. Unparalleled fashion sense...stylish and sophisticated. Clever, witty and simply stunning, it's the new redirect on the block, the hot, the sweet, the Parsi Hilton.
Damn bitch, I gots myself a talkpage! Some loser-user made me a talkpage! I can hardly believe my luck, I'm popular. Probably the most popular redirect in history. Other redirects are going to be falling over themselves to suck me off. They're all my bitches, now. Hah, a talkpage!
Damn right, fool. See I can say that sort of thing now, I'm popular. I better go and check this thing out. The edit description was "
FOR TEH LULZ LOLOL!!!11!!!!11111111!" so it's probably something really witty. It should go with my naturally witty personality.
Who am I kidding? I'm the loserest redirect ever! My talkpage has just got some gay porn on it and big words saying "
TEH GAYEST PAGE EVER!". That really hurt. I mean I'm liberal, so I know "gay" isn't an insult. Actually gay is cool. Well camp is cool. Whatever, I don't know. Anyway, it still hurt. I know they're trying to hurt me "for teh lulz". I've got to stay strong, though. But it feels almost as bad as what I imagine rape to feel like: gooey and sticky and violent and only slightly satisfying.
Oh crap, I just went there. I just described how I think rape feels.
Yes, I've sunk to a new low...
Hopefully an admin will delete that crappy talkpage quickly, I'm beginning to get a little embarrassed. What if mom comes over? I can't exactly say "this is my new talkpage, do you like the porn?". Not that I have a mom, that's just an imaginary situation I made to help make the point. I was so trendy when I had no talkpage, now what am I?
I'm a little worried that a nuclear bomb has destroyed the entire world... It's been about two hours now and still no admins have come along to delete my talkpage. My talkpage is blatant libel, I've decided. I'm going to legal action the pants off of whoever it was who has the dry, cold wit to have created that nasty talkpage.
Is it just me or has the site become eerily quiet? No one seems to be doing anything on it.
Yes, it's just me. The rest of the wiki is as busy as a bag of cats shagging. It's just me that's eerily quiet. The admins are making hundreds of edits but none of them anywhere near me. Oh why won't someone please delete my demeaning talkpage?
So I've been browsing around the site in my infinite shame and guess what I stumble upon? My talkpage is up for feature! Would you believe that? Up for feature? The clever, little rodent-admin who nominated it described it as "the funniest lulz I've ever had since I took that giant dump on my keyboard". Just fucking great, huh?
Just fucking great!
My talkpage is likely going to be featured on the Main Page in a couple of days, while I languish behind with just one hit. One!
My talkpage now has 29 "for" votes and no "against" votes in its race to become a featured article. I bet it's doing just fine in all the attention - lapping it up like a sick dog on steroids. It's disgusting. I know it's not a real, living thing, but sometimes that's how it feels; the slimy, backstabbing talkpage.
And whoever created it in the first place is sick. Literally sick. Actually, utterly sick...like grilled pasta with ice cream. Pervert.
I'm a bit weirded out by my talkpage being up for feature. On the one hand I really did want a talkpage. I even tried to create one containing the word "penis". The talkpage I'm stuck with is actually horribly offensive in a weird, sexual way; I was just trying to be badass by using "penis". On the other hand it's cool to not have a talkpage. Well I thought it was. I was told it was. They didn't lie to me, did they? The bastards.
Maybe I am gay. Maybe that's why it bugs me so much. Am I the first gay redirect in history? Is it possible for me to be gay? Do redirects even have genders? This is a bit late on in the day to be contemplating my sexual orientation.
What would my mom and pop say? Oh wait, I don't have parents. Well I suppose that's one obstacle out of the way. No parents to have to tell. Shit that would have been scary. Mind you, I may have had really nice, liberal parents who wouldn't have cared. Damn, I may even have had gay parents. Awww, crap, now I want parents!
Okay, so I'm not gay. Apparently redirects don't "do" sexuality. In fact the don't "do" much. I don't even have any sexual parts. This hadn't occurred to me before, but when I checked I found that this was true. Nothing down below at all!
It's getting a bit late, I might be turning in for the early afternoon. It's been quite a day - my talkpage is now on +45 in its humiliating dash to the main page. I got my second hit, though. Unfortunately it was some vandal who wanted to take me to a gay bar. I wanted to politely decline but I can't - I'm only a redirect.
This redirect thing sucks. I've been one for a while now, and I think I'm learning the ropes, but even still. You can't do much and you don't get any perks. You're not even paid to sit waiting for idiots to misspell Paris Hilton. I hate what I redirect to. It's a crappy hotel, everyone prefers the London one. Why couldn't I redirect to something arty and modern, like Cabbage-Ice-Cream or Britney Spears? Why couldn't I...why couldn't I...
I think I've hit a mid-life crisis.
SHIT! If this is the middle of my life I've only got 10 hours and 57 minutes left!
Shit, I don't want to die!
Okay, I think I've calmed down a bit now...this is not a mid-life crisis. This is a quarter-life crisis, or something.
Damn the limitations of this weak redirect body! Damn them, I hate my life! My life sucks... Why does it always have to be me? I renounce my faith! Well I guess I never had faith in the first place, because I'm a sucky redirect... Damn, I hate this all!
I just want it to end! Period.
Oh crap, I'm bleeding. Wait, redirects can't bleed. I'm not bleeding, I can't be bleeding. Damn it.
What happened to me? I used to be cool, man. I used to the pinnacle of cool, now where am I? I'll probably end up in a sleazy strip club, pole dancing for fat losers. I wonder if anyone of those losers would find me attractive? They would have to, because I would be a stripper and they would be a loser. Losers find all strippers hot, that's natural selection...or something. But what if they didn't like my tits?
Oh there I go again, talking about things I don't have.
I wish I had tits, though...
I've sorted all my problems out. I'm a genius, because I've only gone and FUCKING done it! I took the plunge. I went for it. I should have seen what caused all my problems to start with. But now, I'm fixed, because I got...
Boobs and that other thing I can never remember the name of!
I'm the first female redirect in history! All history, ever. The first. I've achieved something and I'm totally comfortable with my giant tits (honestly they're huge)!
Why didn't I realise before? I just needed tits and I would be fine!
And now I can tuck myself in and have a good night's sleep in the safe knowledge that today I have completed a personal, emotional journey.
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