I'm watching Kat Von D. on Jimmy Fallon. I know, I know; but, I'm bored and the scotch and the coming quarter have been taking it's toll and I'm in a bit of a tale spin (not typo). So, I decide to tune in, but won't take prisoners. Kat seems like a normal person and a cool chick. No beef with her and quite frankly if I could fuck Nikki Sixx to make things happen for me, I would. OK, here it is, she has a bestseller. A FUCKING BESTSELLER PEOPLE! I mean, look; we (writers) struggle and bust our asses to bring you the best that a creative mind can come up with. We become alcoholics, destroy our families, commit suicide, go hungry, sleep with hookers, shoot heroin, eat human flesh, cheat on our wives, abandon our children, kill people, commit felonies and serve time and all this to bring you our art. We throw ourselves head first into our craft and seek only your love and approval and attention. We force ourselves to think and you can hear our sinews crack and strain with the desire and longing for approval from the world; just a word, a hint, a single one word accolade. And, our reward? Kat Von D. has a best seller. OK, I understand. It is our destiny to suffer. It is my role in this world to be the gladiator, fighting for every step; clawing, swinging, thrashing wildly to stay alive. Just one question:
ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED??!!!