Wow Mayor. What a ball busting piece. Or as an irredeemably racist and very close friend of mine from TX would say, “What a tit sagging piece.” He had watched a documentary on NATGEO about some tribal women who had sagging tits. So he started referring to fucksituations as tit sagging situations. There were variations to the tit sagging e.g if asked if his tits were sagging that day, he’d give a visual about how low they were hanging. Or say he was literally tripping over them. Sometimes he used “dick cheese” to define fucksituations.
Anyway, I digress. Very much so. I don’t want to be a fucking soul blogger. That’s for the birds. I want to make millions of dollars blogging. Perhaps tens of millions even. That way, I can tell women I’m a writer and have a car or house to back me up. Nowadays, everyone says they’re a writer/ blogger/ writing consultant/ ghostwriter. In my mind, you can’t be a struggling writer. If you’re a struggling writer, that means you’re not a writer.
