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Thursday, September 1, 2011

Writer's Spread

One of my best friends since we were kids is a famous author...I'm talking the famous like there have been movies adapted from his stories, he's actually been heard saying don't you know who I am? and you did, etc.  The kind of author some of you (snobs) would say is a real writer because his publisher is in a real big building in a real big city.

I believe I am his only non-celebrity friend. When he does take me out, I'm usually the person cut out of the frame behind Kanye West.  He believes I ground him.  What this really means is I know some pretty disgusting secrets about him and he's scared I'll sell them to Harvey Levin to make my rent.

Anyway, he comes over to my place today as I was trying to work and says, "So, I see you've been writing a lot."  I perk considerably and think, he's finally been reading my books!  Perhaps he'll give me a review that I'd rather die than ask for?  Perhaps he'll find the time to finish working on the script we started in high school?  Perhaps I can call myself a real writer now.

I looked up from my laptop, hoping to come off cool and said, "Yes, I've been working my ass off!  I've got some stuff up in anticipation for the two novels that are set for release.  Thanks for noticing."

And he says, "Well it's kind of hard not to...you have all the signs.  I mean, friend to friend, don't take this the wrong way, but you've gotten kind of fat."


Rice Cake anyone?

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