3

 

ogacenter.com

 

 

 

 

   

 

BREAKING ANTI NEWS:
BECOME AN
INFLUENCER-INFLUENCER AND INFLUENCE THE INFLUENCERS!

 

 
 


In today’s world, you’re nothing… unless you’re an influencer! If you’ve got surplus confidence, tight abs, a 30-word vocabulary and a bubble butt, just snap some selfies and start making mad money. Plus, everyone will follow you.

“I love twerking with a turkey leg,” proclaimed Monette Honeysuck (3.6 million followers). “I just turn on my iPhone, clench my cheeks and make that herb-roasted turkey leg twirl!” Monette now owns ten properties and a learjet, and is considering a run for Congress.

“Life is good,” gloated ghost pepper gobbler Howie Phlemburger (5.5 million followers). “Every morning I power down a jar of killer-hot ghost peppers (Instagram) and writhe in agony while doing permanent damage to my colon.” Howie now sports a colostomy bag (along with millions of his most loyal followers). And he now owns twelve race horses, three yachts and ten diamond toe-rings.

“I drill my skull full of holes while guzzling Red Bull,” bragged extreme influencer Boris Bigtop (22.8 million followers). “As long as I miss those vital brain lobes, I keep drilling and guzzling!” Boris is now sponsored by Red Bull and Black&Decker Power Tools, receiving an annual 7 figure income. Meanwhile, skull-drilling has become America’s most popular form of death.

But why stop at just being an influencer? If you really want to burn right through that influence-ceiling, you’ve got to become an influencer-influencer, and get the influencers to follow you.

“My followers have followers who have followers!” boasted influencer-influencer Chad McMuscleman (3.5 billion followers). “I can do 1,000 squat thrusts while snorting wasabi powder.”  And Influencer-influencer-influencer Bulemic Barabara
(6.9 billion followers) has puked her way to the top with a staggering spectacle that has the whole planet purging its lunch every day. “Spaghettios with meatballs are the best!” said Barbara as she positioned her web-cam for her next gorge-and-blow.

Chef Boyardee was just about to award her a $50,000,000,000 contract when Bulemic Barbara sputtered, keeled over, and died from influenca.

 

  Anti News ©2020 Chris Hume