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The Struggles of a Zero-Fucks Author (Part II)

Yesterday, I lamented in extreme detail about my struggles being a zero-fucks author. In fact, I struggled so much yesterday that I didn't have time to complete the full detail of my daily grind; I passed out in the sun from all the beers and the belly laughs.

Upon waking a couple hours later, I had an epiphany. The type of epiphany that a modern woman might go through when she is around 30 and realizes that she wasted her prime fertile years gobbling copious amounts of Chad-cock and now suddenly wants provisioning from a provider male.

We will get to this epiphany a bit later in this post. However, I must first continue to tell you about my struggles as a zero-fucks author. I think it is only fair that I detail my version of 9-5 and my 'daily grind'.

Be prepared to throw-up, as some of the images portrayed through words may be disturbing for some readers. The struggle is real and is on par with some of the loudest victims of oppression out there.

Here is my typical work day down here in Florida (which is very similar to a writing day anywhere else I may find myself):

It's about 8:59 AM on a disgustingly beautiful and sunny, Florida morning.

I am awakened, annoyingly, by the extreme sun pouring through my bedroom window. I get up almost immediately, because I had an amazing sleep from the previous days productivity (drinking, writing, swimming, shitting,

I scream to myself, "Shit....I am going to be 'late' for's almost 9 AM!" I then begin my long and tiring 'commute' to my 'office'....which takes less than 5 steps (or for the normies to understand, about 5 seconds). Not an hour, not an hour and half via a vehicle or carpool....but literally, no more than 5 seconds.

Upon arriving at 'work', I will then feel a bit famished and proceed to head to the 'break room' (kitchen) to make myself a hardy breakfast and some coffee. I take all the time I want because A) There are no morons grazing about the 'office'.

B) I don't have a boss telling me to start working at a specific time.

By the time I finish eating and having my coffee, it is about 10 AM.

Then, the unthinkable happens (*gasp); I have to take a long shit because the coffee has worked it's magic. This is so terrible, because I then have to walk a whole 7 steps to the bathroom beside where my desk is.

The struggle is real as It is already 10 AM and I haven't even gotten out of my pajamas yet.

At this point I start to contemplate suicide, because I see that the toilet paper roll hasn't been changed and it takes me all but 1 or 2 calories to switch it out for a new one.

Could this day get any more terrible? It is just so fucking quiet in here with no one to bother me that killing myself seems to be the best option.

Like, sometimes I really just miss all of the honking horns, the asshole drivers who all drive like chinks in China, the constant beeping of phones and printers going off, the jibber-jabbering of co-workers, the office politics, the useless gossip, the incompetence in the workplace, the morons whom are hired daily, and the boring and mundane pointless work that only benefits the top-echelons when done.

Because really, everyone's dream is to work in CorporateLand. People, naturally, love misery and to have no point and purpose in life. Like, I am sure everyone woke up one day in their lives and was like " I really do wish to work with morons and waste my fucking time 8-12 hrs a day for 40 years of my life, pay a bunch a taxes; die.

That, for sure, would make me want to do the opposite of kill myself, over and over.


Feeling much better from the quiet shit, I then proceed to fire up my laptop and open my website email. To my surprise there is no hate mail this morning.

Realizing this, I get super depressed and begin to spiral, hard.

This severe depression then makes me go to the fridge and grab a can of 'work juice' (beer) and start the days production. It then takes me all but an hour or so, to accomplish the goals I had set out for the day: Do a post, check the emails, check the social media, check the book sales, go do whatever the fuck I want, etc.

Such a fucking struggle, I know! Thoughts spiral back to suicide because life could't get any more tyrannical and oppressive than this.

Normally, at this point, I would close my laptop and 'go home' (commute from my desk chair to anywhere else). However, today I wanted to immerse myself back into a sort of 9-5 grind that a typical 'normal' would experience on a day-to-day basis...or at least come close if possible.

It was only 11:30 am and I still needed to 'work' for 5 1/2 more hours in order to experience this struggle and plight.


This is where my 'epiphany' comes into play.

The epiphany being that maybe I have been too insensitive, lately.

Maybe I have been wrong my whole life about success and why certain people achieve amazing things in life verses others!

Then it hit me.

I came to the realization that all of my accomplishments: Five books published (Pretty Lies Perish, Uncle Nick, Burning the Midnight, CorporateLand, The Bro Next Door); with a combined page count of over 1,150; a combined word count of around 500,000 words; not to mention my 180 blog posts with an average word count of around 2,000 words per post; have all happened because I am privileged, right!?

I mean, it couldn't be because of anything else! Nope!

Never mind the C|Suite magazine covers that I design from scratch that takes precision, creativity and an eye for color schemes. I wasn't able to produce all of those because I had any talent whatsoever.....they were produced because I was born with White skin, you see.

My White skin, somehow, must have forced my brain to work differently; make my hands move the mouse on my keyboard; made me come up with interesting designs; made me do research on Penthouse and how other magazine covers are designed in order to produce certain artistic effects.

It clearly wasn't my ambition or will to be better, oh no, It was all because of my White skin and my penis!

My penis, in fact, is the very thing I use to type with! All of my books...without me knowing it, were written by my penis and its tireless pounding on the keyboard!

No wonder why women and feminists have penis-envy all the's because they[cocks] can get so much done in this world.

Heck, as we all know, my penis wrote and published 5 books!

I am glad to get that truth out!

Thank you, penis! Thank you for whipping yourself out of my pants and pounding your hard and thick body onto my keyboard and coming up with hilarious satire, wisdom and shit to write about!

It's my 'big brain', you see.


This [my success] all happened simply because of my White privilege and my penis, of course; that I am a heterosexual with a male genitalia who pays taxes and has side jobs and income.

It couldn't be because I had worked hard, planned out a strategy for publishing and getting my books to market, developed a personal brand, developed a stunning website all by myself, used my natural talent for being funny and combined that with the skill-set of writing creatively (which takes a lot of practice, continuous learning and patience).

Oh my goodness, no!

It couldn't be because I wasn't a lazy-fuck! No, it has to be because I am a White heterosexual male who doesn't work hard, saves his money, lives a life of frugality, spends money on essentials or investments with some type of ROI; thinks logically and rationally about what moves he should make next.

Yup, the feminists were so right...I just simply sit here and let my White skin and penis do all the thinking and typing for me; do all the formatting, design and painstaking research!

Yup, I was such an fucking moron to think that I did all of this because I put in the time, effort, passion, creativity and sunk many hours into learning how to do all of this.

Boy, was I wrong!

I didn't give any credit to my penis. Shame on me! After all, it[my penis] was the one who pounded day-and-night sometimes for almost 12 hrs a day on the keyboard in order to flesh out a novel.

It was definitely not my brain which sent signals to my fingers! God, how could I be so fucking stupid! So fucking stupid that I hope someday I take a shotgun to my mouth and splatter my stupid brains all over the wall!

Man, I should have listened to the media, politicians, feminists, and other much more 'successful' people who do nothing of valuable for society! Because, of course, as we all know doing anything of value is racist, misogynistic, homophobic and a sign of White privilege!

With this new found progressive outlook and realization, I decided to extend my 'work day' to 5pm.

What will I be doing, you ask, with this allotted time?

Well, I have decided that I need to do some more 'research' into how 'victims' experience this reality.

I needed to practice some 'empathy' and get in touch with the 'oppressed' individuals out there who yell and shout at me, telling me I am privileged and that all of my accomplishments came from me sprouting a penis at birth and having no choice over my skin color.

So, with the rest of the afternoon (and month), I plan to do some hard 'work': I am going to go out to the pool, everyday, for the rest of my stay down here in Florida; to tan my skin so dark that I essentially become Black...oh sorry 'person of color' wait African shit, sorry....Negro?

This will, hopefully (hope is not a process), allow me to 'experience' the world in a whole new way. Like Aladdin on his magic carpet with Jasmine; it will be a whole new world for me!

I am going to get-in-touch with the attitude that I should have been displaying in order to get stuff handed to me (privileged).

This will be the ultimate test for me; to shed my ignorance, once and for all. Putting in the time to get a great tan, to laze about the way 'oppressed' people on welfare do, and to drink all day long while eating more food than I seriously need, is going to take a lot of effort!

It will be some of the hardest 'research' I have ever done! I am kinda excited, to be honest.

I just hope that by the end of it all I will have experienced the holy grail of feelings: White guilt.

Hopefully, by the end of all of this, I will come to understand the 'glass ceiling' and forget all of that nonsense I wrote about it; the fact that women are payed the same....they just EARN less annually than a man for the same job...because they are inferior and lazy.

Maybe, at the end of all this, I will realize that in order to publish books, write hilarious satire and enlighten others doesn't take drive, passion, a will to learn, ambition, hard work, effort, creativity and time; that all it takes is for me to be White and have a penis.

This is so cant believe that this whole time that I have been busting my ass (building a website, building digital connections and infrastructure, writing books, etc.) that all I had to do was just be White, a male, and just sit on the couch all day waiting for this all to happen!

I wish I were a minority, had a vagina and were 'oppressed' because I could just sit around all day expecting things to happen and if I did this, they would! Right?!

I am such a fucking, idiot!

I could have just been a lazy and complete piece-of-shit instead of doing something!

Doing stuff is hard and that is oppressive! Work is oppressive! Being smart and doing math is oppressive!

Wow! Somebody just put me on welfare already because I am done with being privileged!

I have seen the light and it is too White!

To think I had struggled for so long....all I really had to do was realize that it was me the whole time! I am my own problem! I am White, I have a penis, therefore because of such racist and misandric thoughts, I am to blame for all of my progress!

Gee, I have a lot to think about when I go out to the pool soon and 'work' on my tan/'research' on this gorgeous and perfect sunny day here down in the state of Florida!


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