Gilligan: The Untold Story

I've been blogging for a few years now, so I think it's only right to tell a bit about myself for my loyal readers who may be curious.

I was born on a Wednesday to the love-slave of an unemployed Belgian cobbler. True, she was crazier than a shit-house rat, but she took care of me. Sadly, the day after I graduated from culinary school, she was abducted by aliens.... illegal aliens.... from Sweden. Alas, I never saw her again, but heard reports she was responsible for the breakup of ABBA after being caught in some sick sexual act with both Bj√∂rn and Benny and a Black Bear (which is BTW the national animal of Sweden).

My bleak formative years no doubt led to a very dark period. I abandoned hopes in a future in the culinary arts and began writing poetry and taking massive doses of hallucinogens. My first published work is pictured below. It's out of print, but still can be found on ebay and Amazon from used booksellers.

One day, I became so baked, that I woke up with a gigantic tattoo of Max Baer, Jr. on my back and had somehow also become left handed.  More importantly, I had a religious experience while baked. So, I decided to turn my life around and form a Christian singing group.

We toured the country (and Guam) spreading a message of brotherly love. We would've made it big too, if it hadn't been for Helen (the one with the glasses) and her gambling addiction. She not only gambled away all of our earnings, but put us in debt to the mob. Unable to pay them off, Helen was shot execution style and Paula was sold into prostitution. I went into hiding deep in the forests of the Northwest, and there was befriended by a Sasquatch.

We both had something to teach each other. He taught me how to live off the land and appreciate the simple life. I taught him how to be hard on yourself, develop a low self-esteem, and become unable to let go of past mistakes. Sadly, Sasquatch developed an eating disorder and died.  The last of his kind.

Sick of eating worms and wiping my ass with bark, I lost no time in getting back to the city life. I put together another band, and we hit the ground running. Our name (maybe you've heard of us) was N.W.A.

The name stood for New World Assembly, and we were selling out venues from coast to coast (and Guam). The ballad "Thank God and Greyhound She's Gone" hit number 98 on the country charts, and the hard rockin' "Just Got Laid" went to number 74 with a bullet.

But the success was shortlived.  Our lead guitarist got an offer to play with Paper Lace, our drummer died in a bizarre smelting accident, and Angela (our only female member) became the Chancellor of Germany.

Which brings me to the present. I settled down in the suburbs with a family and started a blog called Retrospace. Other than a fierce addiction to Asian pornography, everything's pretty much normal nowadays. And so there you have it - the life story of your humble blogger, Gilligan. The End.


  1. And now we know. I always knew it involved ABBA, Bigfoot and the mob.

  2. I feel really privileged to finally know your story. What a life you've led! Thanks for sharing. And thanks for consistently providing awesome content for us to enjoy.

  3. That was a gas! Thanks for the laugh.

  4. Ghee-zus that's some heavy shit you're smokin' ain't it? :)

  5. omg too funny. so wait, is your book really out of print and on ebay?


  6. I can't figure why you have left out what I might consider the most eventful portion of your life; being the former Governor of Illinois. Tell us the truth Mr. Blago,, er Gilligan, who did you talk to in the White House? No two people could possibly carry that same hair style for better than, um decades.
    Inquiring minds want to know.

  7. Is, eh, Paula still in the trade? And if so, would you know whereabouts she is located?

  8. A fine biography, but it only took me a few minutes of online research to discover that the "incident" involving ABBA and a black bear was total fiction. I discovered that in truth, music historians agree it was the Bee Gees and a gerbil.

    What else are you hiding??

  9. I believe ever word...except for the "untold" part. What will you call your story now?

  10. I think my ex-wife is living in Sweden in a domestic partnership with your mother.