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My Masterwork - Part XXb. Posted 11/15/2005 07:52 AM by cmonks in My Masterwork., in My Masterwork.
Sorry. I know you've come today to read the continuing saga of my masterwork. All three of you that have bothered to keep reading, that is. No, no, don't try to convince me that others are keeping up with the novel. I know that only three of you are—and I love each and every one of you. For you are my true fans. You recognize the power of my prose and that my masterwork is going to turn the world of literature on its end and spin it around and around, not unlike a breakdancer does when he gets freaky with it and spins around and around on his own head. Yes, my novel will wear big puffy parachute pants and breakdance the shazbot out of every other piece of literature it comes in contact with. So step off, fool. I feel sorry for those that can't keep up with it for stupid lame reasons, like "It has too many words" or "It doesn't have even the mere semblance of a plot" or "It reads like it's been written by a deaf mute with no thumbs who speaks English as a fourth language." My masterwork is a masterwork is a masterwork is a masterwork. That's what I tell myself over and over again to block out all the negativity. I'm sorry there haven't been any Doodledays or Letters to Star Jones or funny essays about my Leaf Hog. I'm working on something a lot more important, something that will turn the world of literature on its end and spin it around and around, not unlike a breakdancer does when he gets freaky with it and spins around and around on his own head. So excuse me if I could care less about your pleas for Utter Wonder to return back to its usual content. Or is that "couldn't care less"? I always get that phrase confused—it doesn't matter, though, because in regard to this matter I feel both ways. So there! Sigh.
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