Internet, man…I just saw the worst thing ever. This guy had either found or, uh…put…a pile of shit on the corner, and was crouched by it, poking it with a stick. He was spreading it around, making shit curlicues…why do we do the things we do?
Hashtag hairless apes.
On the subject of drama, I found some on Goodreads today. I’ll not name names, but someone’s done an Anne Rice—y’know, when you shout at your reviewers, like “you don’t understand!” They were good reviews, too, helpful ones. My one-stars are usually just “ugh, didn’t like it,” or “idk, not for me.” Oh, except this one time, there was a video involved—it had sad trombones and poop emojis, tomatoes that splatted on the screen…. (Oh, the book was quite dreadful. My second attempt. Really, I was honoured someone bothered.)
Sorry. Hold on. I’m going somewhere with this, not just rolling in drama like a dog in roadkill. Before I started writing, I had a career in illustration. That’s mostly over, with my vision gone to pot, but it was fun while it lasted. Though, when I first started out, I was mostly ignored. My website got three hits a day. My forum posts drew crickets. I thought a troll might get attention, so I trolled myself. I made ten fake accounts and made them have a fight, one bashing, nine defending. I think one real person joined in, and not on my side…? I don’t know. It didn’t work.
Anyway, I did that on Elfwood, which was probably the best place for a self-troll: Elfwood was for amateurs, and that wasn’t professional.
Are there still places like that, where you can work the foolishness from your system and not have it stick? No-one remembers me as the self-trolling loon, though I’ve copped to it several times. Maybe it’s only a scandal if someone else catches you, or if you matter to begin with.
Anyway. Drama, trolling, what was I doing? Oh. I mainly came here to blow the whistle on the shit artist, so
There’s a man down on Gladstone doing something with poo.