If you are using Facebook, Twitter, Tic Toc, or any of the sun-entities thereof, looking for fame, fortune, or a date with Johnny Depp’s ex have I got a bridge for you, and it’s on sale!
Remember back when aspiring actresses or actors would sell their dog to get to Hollywood because they just knew that they would take the world by storm, and fortune would be theirs! Did someone say The Black Dahlia?
I’m not going to bore you with statistics. Just divide Clint Eastwood by one million. Now imagine that the result is farther refined by a bunch of woke, sexually confused executives with agendas right out of Drag Queen Story Time, and the result is you!
Strap in. This ain’t gonna be a good ‘un. Success in publishing has never been easy. The cream is supposed to rise to the top. Rotten milk does too, and Rotten Tomatoes sink to the bottom. The path to stardom is narrow.
The Three Rules of Life:
- Money buys everything
- People are no damn good
- Nail two things together that have never been nailed together before you’ll get rich
But, it is paramount that everyone in your universe understands these rules. It’s quite simple actually. Take the first. Money buys everything. Oh, here it comes. Money is the root of all evil! No, you are the root of all evil, and your lust for money will bring that out. When asked if it were better to give to God or Caesar, Jesus asked for a denarius, not an IOU! Churches don’t pass blessings, they pass the plate, Mother Theresa was a corporation. The truth will set you free. Now, you’ll be broke, but you’ll be free.
Money buys everything
Just ask yourself, why do you write? You wanna spread your ideas to mankind because you, and only you have the answer. Yeah. Sit your crazy ass down! You write because you want to get rich! And I don’t mean just pay the bills rich, I mean the kind of rich where the FBI follows you around to catch you in your debauchery of choice. We all have sinned and fallen from the glory. How far we fall depends on how much money we have. Even Walt Disney had some skeletons in the closet. His all had Mouseketeer ears!
Aleister Crowley said, “Do what thou wilt.” The only restraints we have are money and audacity. There is morality and common decency, and that’s good window dressing, but it only goes so far. I, for instance, could never hurt a child. But, I will slap a bitch, and God knows these days there are a lot of bitches who need slapping. That misogynistic enough for ya? If you make enough money you’ll be surprised at who you are.
Happily most people who become rich will not be embarrassed by Mr. Hyde until long after their death, and if you’re a writer that will boost sales considerably. You do know Mein Kamph is still on the book shelves, right? Right beside the King James Bible. Boy! Is that a revelation or what? Money buys everything, and in the words of the Prophet John Lennon, “What it can’t buy I can’t use!”
People are no damn good
You take that back, Wilbur! My mother was good. Hey! Mine was too, but they still had us. I’ve been trying to walk on water since my mom’s water broke and I ain’t done it yet! Rule number one segways right into rule number two. Ever how no damn good you are is directly proportional to how much damn money you have. How people perceive your acts is affected by your explanations of just why you did them. Just go to any funeral. Have you ever been to one and struggled to not laugh out loud?
I have never killed a man, but I’ve read many an obituary with a great deal of satisfaction
When you lie crumbling in that box and you have led a clean pure life, free of even the tiniest sin then you have wasted your money. May as well have hung around the homeless shelter and said deep things that nobody understood. If you got rich by screwing other people out of their money at least they are left with the honor of being screwed by you!
Being no damn good will carry you far. You’ll do better being crookeder than Facebook than you will wringing the crying towel because Mark Zuckerberg is following these simple rules. Have you ever seen his wife? That is one hot Chinawoman. How do you think Forest Gump landed that! Please proceed to rule number three.
I’ve been in Facebook jail so many times that I have tattoos
Necessity is the mother of invention. I need money therefore I write. Like you, I’m hoping for a hit. I wanna run off with Zuckerberg’s wife with Britney Spears on the side. Lord, I’m sorry I’m gonna do that, I promise I’ll only do it once. This is where the cream rises to the top. In a normal world the cream would write things that are amazing, but remember Who’s running things. They aren’t looking for cream, they’re looking for blood.
If you nail two things together. . .
I just love it when monied people try to tell you money don’t matter. If it don’t, Mark, just drop your old lady off at my door and me and Brittany can have a threesome. Oh, leave your car! Part of the money don’t matter is true. It makes it easier for Facebook to squash your efforts. If you actually come up with something good they’ll just steal it and run off with your wife.
Back in the day you had to get a deal from a publisher. The publisher owned a printing press and if you made the grade they’d print your stuff, give you ten cents on a dollar, and you could tell everyone that you are a writer. These days anyone with an iPhone can be Hemingway. But, you still have to deal with distribution networks. It’s no longer Publisher’s Clearing House it’s Facebook Jail. Did you know that there are people out there who are actually scared of Facebook Jail. I’ve been in Facebook jail so many times that I have tattoos.
And it’s a real threat. If you put all your eggs in the Facebook basket Zuckerberg can get up tomorrow with his shorts in a knot and with one push of a button your shorts will be in a knot. And you had that one coming. Did you notice when I made a pass at Mrs Zuckerberg I had Brittany on the side. There are two reasons for this. One, she’s an Oriental chick, and second, she’s a chick and I’ve been married six times. I’m told that I have an issue with long term relationships. I mean, I’m ok for like two minutes and while that may be the problem, I’m also a realist and nothing lasts forever. Hence, Brittany.
Write your own songs
There is a vast pool of like minded writers who, like me, have the tattoos. They are struggling to form unions, fragile as they are, to get their stuff before the masses. Never forget, we are the masses. They can’t write. In the words of Brother Willie, Just lay on your ass and get richer or write your own songs!
I told you a lie in this article. Money will buy everything except one. Satisfaction. The satisfaction that you feel when you pen some heart felt thought, someone reads it, and has the same thought. And it doesn’t matter if it’s some old man counting his days in a nursing home, or some little girl born fifty years after you’re in the ground looking at your tomb stone thinking . . . He made it! But right now this ain’t no country for old men!
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