Let’s put things in perspective here. If you’re an aspiring writer and someone “likes” a blog post of yours or a Facebook status or retweets you, that’s tantamount to when an aspiring model has people tell her “oh, you’re so pretty!” It’s a start, maybe, but it means approximately jack shit. I am aware of this. It doesn’t bother me.
Any time my balls start to shrink up into my body and turn into a vagina, I ask myself WWHSTD?
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Well, I just bought a leather jacket in Florence, I am officially a total rebel now.
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So crazy right now
Ya know, Beyoncé doesn’t really do it for me……just fucking with you!! I mean she’s gorgeous, come on, you’d have to be gay not to want to bang her. Or extremely racist possibly. Or suffering from dementia. Or a eunuch. There’s probably a few more extenuating circumstances, but I don’t have all day. Actually I do, I’m not doing shit today. I really am just a lazy sack of crap. But regardless, no more brainstorming of extenuating circumstances for not wanting to bang Beyoncé. Is anyone still reading this? Haha, I almost feel bad for you. Almost.
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The definition of the word “professional” means you’re getting paid to do whatever it is that you’re doing. A professional athlete, a professional singer, a professional sculptor etc. But there is no stipulation on a minimum amount of money you need to make in order to be “professional.” Ergo, in light of the fact that I have made a grand total of 63 dollars off my book, I am officially a professional writer. Some people call me a dreamer
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