Who is Dr. Zibbs?
I mean, apart from all the obvious stuff. Of course, everybody knows he's a world famous, wildly popular blogger, creator of the award winning That Blue Yak, and the internet's current "It Boy". But who is he really? I was recently given the chance to find out when he granted me one of his rare interviews.
I wasn't sure what to expect. I've never interviewed anyone famous before.
Oh sure, there was that one time I talked to Britney Spears's hair weave specialist, but that wasn't such a big deal. Plus, I've heard all the rumors going around about Dr. Zibbs and they are kinda freaky. You know the ones, about how he's really a 400 year old vampire/werewolf hybrid, who spent 200 of those years chained up in the basement of lunatic asylum. And how he supposedly penned Men Without Hats one big hit song, "Safety Dance." I've even heard that he once worked for Stevie Nicks blowing cocaine up her ass with a straw after she ruined her nostrils, and that he has 14 wives and 60 children in 49 different states. So needless to say, I was a bit intimidated.
Meeting the man did nothing to set me at ease. We made arrangements for him to stop by my house last night, which he did, roaring up the street at midnight in a rusty Ford Mustang filled with giggling blond co-eds and a guy in a bear suit, and driving over my bitchfaced neighbor's trash can in the process. It was one heck of an entrance.
"Sorry 'bout that," he shrugged, as he plopped down on my couch and gave me a killer grin.
Physically he wasn't at all what I was expecting. I mean, he had a hook for an eye! And another for a hand! And he was dressed in a clown suit! Apart from all that though, he was kinda hawt in a handsome, possible serial killer sort of way. I suppose I was thinking of that when I started the interview off with a really dumb question. (His answers are italicized.)
"So, Dr. Zibbs....um are you a serial killer?"
Uhhhhh....hmmmm," he thought for a minute. "Exactly how spread out do the killing have to be to make it a true serial killing? And what if victims weren't important?"
I wasn't sure how to answer so I just stared. He stared back. It was so quiet I could hear the clock ticking and the dog scratching her fleas. I decided to let that one go.
"Okay then, next question. What is your birth date and astrological sign? Do you check your horoscope daily even if you think it's bullshit?"
"My birthdate is January 8. I never look at horoscopes because it's BS and boring."
I was still slightly nervous so I made a dumb joke for the next question.
"Are those Bugle Boy Jeans you're wearing?"
"Why no," he seemed puzzled. "They're clown pants."
I blushed. "Sorry, nevermind. So, aliens exist and have been to our planet - yes or no?"
"I will say no because there is zero evidence other than the UFO image in that one pyramid," he said, then sat back and let out a belch so loud it sounded like a gunshot and made my dog jump.
By then I was starting to relax and get into the interview.
"If you could switch lives with a blogger for one day, who would it be and why?"
"Cameron because I saw a picture of his wife and she looked pretty cute. I'm not sure why he took it down."
"Maybe because dudes like you were skeeving on her?" I offered. Dr. Zibbs gave me a half smile that might have been amusement, or possibly gas since he belched again.
"If you were a pirate what would your name be?"
"Peggy "the parrot whisperer" McBeard.
"Have you ever worn a Fu Manchu mustache?"
"NO. I shave everyday. I grew a goatie once and a bit of it on the chin came in grey. Plus, it's hard to eat without getting food caught in it."
"Which finger do you use to pick your nose? Are you a righty or a lefty?" D'oh, too late, I remembered the hook hand.
Dr. Zibbs held up the hook, which gleamed wickedly in the lamplight. "I only use sanitized medical instruments," he sniffed.
"What is the secret of your success?"
"Being fabulous but I'm going to stop using that term because I think it might mean gay."
"I know you are a fan of Twitter. If you had to summarize your life in 140 characters or less, what would you say?"
"Creator and Taker of lives and souls," he chuckled and let out another gunshot loud burp. My dog, who had drifted off to sleep by his feet was so startled that she jumped up, barked, and farted at the same time.
"Ha ha, good dog!" Dr. Zibbs cackled and stood up. "We've done ten questions, right? Time for me to motor."
"Wait!" I cried. "I feel like we are just getting started here. You don't reveal much. Can I ask ten more?"
"Sorry baby," he grinned. "I intentionally don't reveal too much. But if there's anything else you want to know just ask me. I may or may not tell you but...." then he winked (with his good eye, not the hook one) slapped me on the ass, and was gone.
From my window I watched him climb back into the chick filled car. The guy in the bear suit waved and blew me a kiss as Dr. Zibbs gunned the motor and backed over my bitchfaced neighbor's trash can again - spraying garbage all over her otherwise perfect lawn - and then raced off into the night.
So, who is Dr. Zibbs? I, for one, still have no idea. And he likes it that way.