24 hours with Kerwin Rae sounds ridiculous, but Jo Thornely’s day is pretty much the same. Well, kind of

PEOPLE are calling this guy the ultimate wanker after an article was published about a day in his life. But Jo Thornely gets him.

An article on 24 Hours With Kerwin Rae is getting lots of comments online. Jo Thornely wonders why.

THIS week, a Mumbrella article featuring a day in the life of “author, investor and entrepreneur” Kerwin Rae attracted attention across social media.

“5:00am: Wake up. It’s always better to jump out of bed before the sun does. Toilet. Teeth. Deep breath. Glad to be alive,” starts Kerwin’s 24 Hours With article.

Other highlights include (but are certainly not limited to):

8:48am: The documentary filmmaker I’ve hired to follow me around for social content starts his filming for the day. Love his work.

I think about reaching out to my network and catch myself procrastinating so I say out loud — with enough volume to scare the shit out of my filmmaker “just do it now!” I laugh, he’s not quite used to my quirks yet.

11:30am: Breakfast. I have an intermittent fasting schedule where I only eat during eight hours of the day, between 11:30am and 7:30pm. It keeps my metabolism running high, helps my brain cells, too … I value the speed at which my mind is able to process things and am always looking to tweak it. Being ADHD I have a serious advantage, as I have hacked this for my personal gain.

12:30pm: Film 10 videos back-to-back with the help of my Swedish filmmaker Mattias (I call him ‘chef’ because the kid knows how to cook up great content). These are business insights videos for my social channels. A couple of my favourites are ‘The truth about motivation’, ‘Can anyone be an entrepreneur?’ and ‘How to overcome your fears’.

Most of the feedback was oddly negative, unfathomably labelling Mr Rae, himself a social media guru, a “wanker”.

For the first part, if you’re a social media guru and manage to splatter your “brand” across social media, then aren’t you a successful marketer? Even if people are calling you a douche canoe?

This is possibly the funniest thing I've read all year https://t.co/2JavGhB0YQ

— Christopher Currie (@furioushorses) August 30, 2016

The best piece of social media satire I've ever read...such a fully formed character you'd almost swear he was real. https://t.co/X8DKmEnobT

— Tim Callanan (@MrTimCallanan) August 29, 2016

Stop looking… we have found the biggest social media wanker in australia https://t.co/PMTPUL2XY2 via @marcfennell pic.twitter.com/oj3r3AJ9yU

— Mark:Di-Stefano (@MarkDiStef) August 29, 2016

Look, it doesn’t matter if the world isn’t sure if your job is real or if home-brewed Kombucha is any better than store-bought, everyone’s entitled to live their lives how they see fit.

I looked at my own day and honestly, it’s like Kerwin and I are the same person.

24 HOURS WITH JO THORNELY

5:45am: Wake up. Hit snooze. It’s important to alternate arms to smash the snooze button every 10 minutes, to maintain physical symmetry. Twenty-two minutes of unbelievably obscene swearing to warm up my vocal chords. Glad to be alive.

7:30am: Get out of bed and check my brand’s reach across my social channels, particularly Twitter and Tinder. Get a message from a guy in Annandale who ignored a suggestion I gave him that he shouldn’t send me any pictures of his genitals — he’s pumped.

Then it’s time to check to see whose birthday it is on Facebook, post an insincere message on their timeline, and report a few pornbots as spam. Not a bad level of productivity for 80 seconds of double-chinned staring at my phone. Boom.

7:30am and eighty seconds: Open a fresh bottle of my home-refrigerated orange juice. I only get through a couple of mouthfuls before I’m overrun by my housemate. We play bathroom roulette and talk about gastric upsets and bin collection schedules for an hour and a half before we’re impossibly late for work. Problems are the greatest opportunities for growth.

9:02: En route to work. This is where I film my social series on Snapchat called The Dude On The Train Is Eating A Bowl Of Cereal For Real. Great ideas, local content, clusters of wholegrains and a squelching noise. I’ve found that when you truly engage your audience with people’s disgusting habits, they’re more likely to want to give you a seat to yourself.

I get a response to a tweet from a follower that says “delete your account lol”. I love working with people who follow through.

10:40: Arrive at work and huddle with team. We review yesterday, when Craig in accounting forgot to wear deodorant, and immediately break the huddle. In the huddle everyone is equal. Except Craig.

Turns out the business affairs department is behind the eight ball. We’ve overbooked for karaoke next Friday and the stage just isn’t big enough to accommodate our planned recreation of Bohemian Rhapsody. I don’t get mad, I suggest Love Shack.

The weird intern who follows me around styling my selfies starts his filming for the day. I’ve nicknamed him “chef” because I cannot for the life of me remember his actual name. I spill coffee into my keyboard and blame the intern. I laugh, he’s not quite used to my quirks yet.

11:59am: First meeting of the day with a prospective Subway sandwich artiste — it’s the third sandwich I’ve had this week. It’s a short meeting. Can’t believe how few people in Australia truly understand optimal sandwich construction. It’s not that hard really. Strong mustard, strong olive game, parmesan oregano bread. Until I find a good sandwich, I’ll have to just make them myself. Or get sushi.

12:08am: Post 10 pictures of my sandwich back to back across all my socials. The key to my content is pictures of food and amusing graffiti, and I reverse engineer the outcomes I’m chasing by sometimes posting a picture of a dog. I don’t have to even own a dog because being asthmatic I have a serious advantage which I’ve hacked for my own personal gain.

12:10pm: Better eat my lunch or I won’t be hungry for second lunch.

3:40pm: Second lunch, then steal 18 minutes in the office toilet for Candy Crush.

5:30pm: Head home. Start prepping dinner. Marinate an Uncle Ben’s rice sachet in the microwave for one and a half minutes, peel back the lid of a can of tuna for eight seconds, make magic in a wineglass with some choice ingredients from the bargain bin at Dan Murphy’s. I love to cook. It’s like business, in that if you do a crappy job, nobody really notices much.

6:00pm: Dinner with the housemate. We watch The Bachelor, screaming at full volume until the neighbours tell us to calm down. We keep going anyway. Girls will be girls! I want to be Alex when I grow up, because she gets to sit in a bathtub full of chocolate. I turn to my housemate and profess my love for reality television. She just laughs and asks me to shut the hell up.

8:45pm: See the half empty bottle of Villa Maria that I forgot to drink earlier. I drink the rest, and text an ex. I hate waste.

11:00pm: Close computer. Shut down. Put phone away. Get phone out. Check socials. Put phone away. Go to toilet. Check socials.

Jo Thornely doesn’t get enough attention at her day job, so she writes for various outlets, takes up way too much bandwidth on the internet, and loves it when you explain her jokes back to her on Twitter. Follow her @JoThornely