"Hey man, in my newest mag I published all the biggest names in the scene. So who are you going to publish in your mag, being that most writers hate your guts?"
I took a sip of my drink trying to not break the illusion that my so-called friends' snarky bullshit bothered me.
"Well, have you heard of a certain writer who hasn't written shit in like forever?"
"Okay you got me curious you prick, just who is this supposed big name?"
Tommy replied.
"Well I'm not trying to brag but have you ever heard of God?"
My friend went speechless, as clearly his mind was officially blown.
As you reading this are like wow, John finally has lost it.
Yeah if lost it, totally means fucking rocks the socks of this mofo.
You're damn right nah nah.
Suck it other mags that don't publish me!
Due to being total pussies and the fact so and so doesn't like me.
Yet I'm still on your friends list because you secretly want to see what crazy shit I will come up with next.
And the winner is....
Duh! Me always.
#humblefucker
John Patrick Robbins, recently relocated to a beautiful theme park within his mind.
And is currently directing his first feature film, a remake of the romantic comedy.
The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, he enjoys knitting sweaters and collecting back issues of Screw magazine and playing with his renaissance band that only does Abba covers.
He once pissed on an electric fence, after swimming across the English channel he hasn't been right ever since.
His publications include several issues of the yellow pages anthology where he was listed under his real name Nicholas Sparks.
He is currently watching you through your Webcam at this very moment.
Mmmmmmm sexy.
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