I either have to be famous, marry Sam Neill (who is a fellow kiwi, afterall) or cut my own arm off. How about somebody else’s arm?
P.S. Sean Chandler is nearing semi-famousity on twitter et el. I even went to like his facebook page for him, just because his mum gave him a reward and testimonial for his writing. My mum died a few years back, I’m wondering if I could borrow (bribe) Sean’s for a similar feat.
I recently achieved 20,000 Twitter followers and, as I’m writing this, my website is approaching 10,000 views in its first 7 weeks. In terms of fame, I would liken myself to the reporter in that viral video who accidentally had a bird crap in his mouth? Have you seen the video? No? Well, eventually someone who wanders across this site may have, and that’s about where I am. Let me tell you how well my fame pays: It doesn’t. I make about as much money off my Twitter account as that aforementioned bird makes every time someone watches it crap in that guy’s mouth. The sad thing is, despite the fact that my writing career has made me just about enough money to be homeless person once you take away my other expenses, I still sometimes find my ego getting away from me. That’s an easy thing to have happen…
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