SCRIBE IN REVIEW:

This should come as zero surprise, but Dude drank a giant bottle of Hater-ade the other day.

For those who are unaware, the first professional review of my novel, “Dreamers at Infinity’s Core” came out and it was favorable. (http://www.sfrevu.com/php/Review-id.php?id=9524)

This literally could not have come at a better time in my life. Having been beyond depressed for months, being validated by a review in my field was equivalent to being lifted up by unseen forces before I fell off a cliff. “Great success!” as Borat might say.
Did I provide a link? I can’t remember. Just in case, here it is again (http://www.sfrevu.com/php/Review-id.php?id=9524)

I’ll wait until you’ve finished reading it. (Whistling)

Good stuff, huh? The Scribe would have masturbated to it, but there weren’t enough pictures to jumpstart my imagination. Feeling good about myself is a rare experience that usually involves midgets and a giant vat of Wesson Oil, but this was purer, somehow. Naturally, I shared it with everyone I could think of.

The first thing I done was post a note on Facebook so I could tag as many of my friends as possible. Sadly, my goal fell sort due to Facebook’s baffling limitations but I still contacted quite a few people. People from my personal life were contacted via text message and whomever I didn’t get to was contacted by EFB. Congratulatory messages came in one after the other, with one exception. Apparently, some foreigner named Alfonse Packer who may or may not be me bitterly wrote, “Well, look who is big dammit deal. You not boss of Alfonse!”

I thanked him (me) for keeping me (him?) humble.

EFB showed some of my former co-workers the review before she left work for the night. Dude was one of them. He said nothing at first. Others were glad for me. Dude just kept working. He’s a dedicated little soldier, he is.

I called EFB and told her I wanted to celebrate at a nearby bar, where I could imbibe Blue Moon beer, the best got-DAMN beer ever made by the angels in Heaven and their underage love slaves! She agreed and mentioned it to Dude while he was still diligently working on single-handedly restructuring the department he constantly criticizes. Without looking up, he said, “Huh? Celebrate? Why?”

“Um, the BOOK REVIEW?" she said. “Didn’t you get the link I emailed to you?”

Still not looking up, still working hard, dude said, “Huh? Oh, yeah, yeah…I read it...that review thing.”

“Yeah, that fucking chestnut!” she yelled.

He looked at her as if she was insane, still pretending to work. Later that night, Dude expressed a seemingly reluctant happiness for me and a willingness that it all works out. It must have taken one hell of a toll on his ego to do that.

You see, Dude wants to be a writer…and a doctor, fireman and Indian chief. He has attended school in Spain, a prestigious university for people interested in the aeronautics field in the States and spent years as a scuba instructor. But like so many guys I’ve met, deep down he’s always wanted to write a book because he knows none of those other things have any lasting power in the human consciousness. For those of us without kids, a legacy must often be created through art.

Unfortunately for him, but probably fortunately for the two or three readers left in America, he has never sat down and put pen to paper. That hasn’t stopped him from doing the other thing guys like him tend to do…talk as if they are working on a novel. It’s all over his online accounts because he thinks it impresses women.

Memo to dude: It only impresses women when they get to see prime examples of said writing and you eventually wind up with a novel that receives a positive review.

Take Scribe, for instance. Right now every woman reading this is trying to figure out how to get their panties to him for brief sniff inspections. Such is the life of he that toils and creates.

Remember, I thanked Alfonse for keeping me humble, so I performed my humility for the month. Simply put, I’m the shit and cain’t nobody take that away from me except that old bearded white guy in the sky…but until the guy who played Grizzly Addams takes notice of me, I’m safe so fuck it!!!!

And fuck Dude, too, that candy-ass bitch-boy sack of go-nowhere-in-a-hurry monkey shit!

Oh, I think I forgot the link to the review. How silly of me!
(http://www.sfrevu.com/php/Review-id.php?id=9524)

P.S.

Remember my so-called "friend" Ed who sold me out three eyars ago over his fascination with EFB's tits and eventual romantic feelings he thinks nobody can see? He never acknowledged the text message I sent him about the review but was Julio on the Spot when I told him EFB couldn't make it to the plans they'd made last week. Fuck him. More on that later.