Fucking done

Everyone knows someone who is a complete sack of arse; a fucker, a complete and utter bastard, someone who is only ‘famous’ on social media for being controversial, or a twat. There have been a few around me before and you just give them enough rope and they’re gone soon enough.

But then there’s this shit-for-brains. They’ve been banned from a messages board. The thing is, is makes them holier-than-holier-than-thou as a result, like suddenly everything they’ve been saying has been validated. Apparently, being banned from a board makes you too cool for school in their books, and they’re right happy about it.

And then they crash another board to gloat about how, because they’re so ‘incendiary’ and ‘polarising’ and just plain all-around awesome, they’re getting a load of their arse-gravy otherwise known as posts and tweets etc. published. As in, in a book. That will be published. And sold. For money.


That. Is. Where. I. Am. Done.

So fucking done.

Some of us having been trying FOR THE PAST 5 YEARS to get an agent and get published. Some of us have actually written a real, physical novel using their little creative brains that has been bled, sweated, and cried over for at least the last 7 years. Some of us have been turned down by no less than 45 different agents, and 5 different publishers direct. Some of us just keep banging our heads against walls and getting nowhere.


But this unclefucker? This steaming pile of camel shit laced with strychnine and topped off with conceited, self-important baboon gonads where their brain should be? They just sit down and people go to them.

Clearly, I’m doing something wrong.

Perhaps in this 'modern' society of people arguing about what’s moral and what’s just fucking rude (yes, you of the tiny, tiny orange hands) I should just go for shock and awe. Perhaps I should be upsetting people. Perhaps I should be ‘incendiary’ and ‘polarising’. Perhaps then I’ll attract enough attention that someone will want to publish me.


Is that it? Is that what you do?