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I’m not going to tell you anything in this post that you don’t already know. Here’s the scoop: I, Butter Chicken, am the true star of this website. It’s patently obvious from a few clicks of your mouse. Most posts since site inception, people. Sure, the rest of the contributors to Food Court Lunch might write funnier articles or be guest editors at Deadspin, but that (a) is irrelevant and, in the alternative, completely subjective, and (b) the result of his whiskey-soaked lips and Catholic boys’ school-honed blowjob skills. In other words, it doesn’t count and unfairly distracts from my blogging superstardom. However, I am comfortable with this. I know I am the best. I am who Tina Turner was talking about. Weezer may have mentioned it as well.

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How do I deal with the other writers of Food Court Lunch trying to steal the spotlight from me? Easy — I take shits into bags and leave the bags on their porches. It makes me feel better and makes their porches smell like shit. It’s win-win. Or win-lose. Regardless, I win. Beyond that, though, I look to see how other celebrities deal with situations where less-talented people try to ride on their coat-tails. The stupid celebrities get angry, pick fights, and alienate their fans. It’s the wrong thing to do — it makes you look petty. The smart celebrities know how to handle it. They don’t beat the hangers-on, they join them. The truth is, if you spread your magic, it makes the world a brighter place. People respect your for it, and they will always know true talent, regardless of the context. You’ll be making the lesser lights around you shine a little brighter, but you’ll always be the true star. The perfect example? Chris Burke. Who? Oh, you’ll know who.

Someone’s trying to hitch a ride on the Butter Chicken Stardom Express? Grab hold, baby! Am I going to get upset? No, because life goes on.