My friends, the time has come to vote for me again.

This time, we were asked to write songs comparing two nouns (from lists the contest’s sponsors provided). The song also had to be at least 1:45 long, and had to feature a syllable repeated five consecutive times, on at least three separate occasions during the song.

You can hear the song, and vote for it if it’s your favorite (it is), right here.

The first article title on this page is the name of your band.

The last four words of the very last quote on this page form the title of your album.

The third picture shown here is your album cover.

And thus I humbly present my hit album:

Until recently, I hosted Cracked.com’s world-famous* Week in Douchebaggery. A few days before last Friday’s show, I was unceremoniously fired.

Okay, that’s a lie. There was a big “We’re Firing Lex” party. My firing was extremely ceremonious. Swaim was there to offer me some moral support: “I told ya you should have had a few more websites as characters in your video,” he said. “Those always work.” I left him to polish his gold-plated musket.

For a while, there was talk of having Cracked editor Jack O’Brien take over the show. His charm and dapper good looks give him at least two advantages over me, and the thought was that if we didn’t have any good jokes for him, he could just smile his suave, “I-ooze-sexuality” smile and still hit the homepage of Digg. Or at least Reddit. But Jack decided he’s too busy banging hot chicks who are just a little too short to be real models, but cute enough to sell Snorg tees. I can’t say I blame him. At least not on camera. Since I’ve been, you know, cancelled.

Gladstone was there, at the Firing Lex Ceremony. He tried not to mention that his recurrent “Hate by Numbers” video bit is still alive and kicking, and that it’s hit the homepage of Digg more than [abusive celebrity X] hit [victimized celebrity Y]. You know what, Gladstone? Your self-serving grin said it all. Get a goddamn first name. And a real green-screen while you’re at it. The Week in Douchebaggery might not have had an audience, or “good writing,” or “return on investment,” or “a point,” but we had a real goddamn green-screen.

So, what do I do now each week, instead of scouring the world’s press for douchebagginess in the news? Great question, self. I’m glad I asked me that.

The answer is, I compete in Internet-based contests. Specifically, I’m trying to be named a “Master of Song-Fu.” You can scroll down to the bottom and vote for me right here.

Sure, my entry into the contest may lack the talent, emotion, or singing ability that some of the competition offer. But it’s keeping me off the street, and that’s something. My good friend Swaim begged up and down Cracked.com for votes in that YouTube contest a month or two ago. Does anyone out there still have love for That Douchebag Guy? I’m not above begging.

It’s pretty much how I eat these days.

* Both my parents watched it, and my wife sometimes, too.

The contest is for songwriters. For this first round, we had one week to write a theme song in the style of a classic TV theme from the 60s, 70s, or 80s. The theme was to be for a fictional show starring ourselves.

I took my inspiration from the Inspector Gadget theme.

My song: Hey, It’s Lex Friedman!

Go and vote.

There’s been an outpouring (or at least, out-dripping) of grief here on the comments in my blog, on the comments on Cracked, and also on YouTube.

Because there’s been genuine concern expressed (in Internet terms anyway) (as in, “Hey, hope u don’t kill yerself LOL!!!11!”), I wanted to explain that no, I haven’t been fired from my day job. It’s just that the WiD was only one small component of my job, and for the time being I’m focusing elsewhere day-to-day. The show’s audience’s fervor was much stronger than its size, and the ROI on making the weekly show wasn’t too compelling at this point.

But you haven’t seen the last of me! Or my snark!