A couple days ago, I recorded voiceover for a radio commercial.
Just a little ad for my church. No big woop. I helped out a friend who was putting it together, and I was happy to do so.
All humility aside, however, I’m sure you agree that it is probably the greatest commercial ever devised in the history of human sound recordings. If I may be honest with myself, I concede that this 60 second promotion is superior to the quality of Frank Sinatra’s mid-50s peak and the Beatles Revolver combined. In the scope of recorded history, it is rivaled in importance only by sacking of Rome in 476AD and Michael Jordan’s free-throw line dunk.
I mean, just listen to it. Are you deaf or something? Can you not hear the yearning and authenticity in my supple, tender reading? Do you not see the clarity of our message or the outreach possibilities thereof? Are you a drooling idiot?
I tell you, with all this criticism I get around here, it’s getting harder and harder to remain so humble…
Your voice is like liquid-hot caramel being poured slowly onto my crotch. Fragrant, oozing sweetness, but at the same time scalding and painful. You’re going to the top!!
Man…Chris said just what I was thinking…
Chris, that’s why they call me Crotchscalder.
You were the feminine sounding one, right?