I Was a Minor Twitter Celebrity and All I Got Was This Coffee Mug

Field Where I Grow My FucksI know it’s been a while, I’ve been buying a house.  I have a life.  Why shouldn’t I?

Anyway, while I was away, a writer I know made me a minor Twitter celebrity.  I had no idea until the tweets started hitting my defunct Twitter account.  I got home from working on my newly acquired fixer-upper of a house and bam! there it was.

What Does Fame Taste Like?

Fame, as we all should know by now, tastes like Bernie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans.  Sometimes it’s sweet and fruity, and at other times it tastes like earwax.  Either way, it’s fleeting, and the next morning, nary a fucking peep of the once famous cursing copywriter was to be seen.

That’s ok.  I’m not really a fan of publicity — that’s why I do what I do.  I’m a publicity whore, but I’m shy, so I let others take the credit for me.  Ghostwriting is cool like that.

Like my Twitter fame, this post will be fleeting.  I’ve got bigger fish to fry for now.  Back soon with important writing advice, but if you need a fix NOW, check out my friend Allison’s blog.

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