top of page

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


Dedicated to all those who say the moronic words of, "Get a real job".

It has been about one week into my excruciating trip down here, in the sunny state of Florida; I have been doing whatever I want and been drinking and eating like a patriarch.

How sinful and evil of me, I know...

It is so depressing, living the life that I lead; I should've listened to all those people I called morons and pieces-of-shit.

I think I even called some of them 'skid marks' on the underpants of society...basically people who need to be wiped off the world's tighty-whitey.

Instead, of having to deal with sun, all the beer I can handle, a golf course in my backyard, endless entertainment and the ability to laze and graze like an Emu, I could've been 'living the dream' like a 'real man'. I could have been a second-class citizen in a marriage or in some CorporateLand glass jungle.

Wow, I have really screwed up.

For instance, my daily 9-5 grind over here is now starting to take it's toll on me; physically and mentally. This morning, as I began my 'commute' to my 'office' (this is so tragic)...I stumbled a bit on the 4th step out of the 5 that it takes to get from my bed to my computer desk. Somebody needs to admit me into rehab or send me to an old-folks home. I'm done for.

It was hard to hold the tears back.

To think, if I had not chose this life as a Zero-fucks author I could've been commuting like the rest and the best; 2 hours a day, compounding over a life-time, equaling years off your life; sucking in the toxic fumes of other vehicles and wasting precious hours trapped in box all day long.

As this thought entered my mind, as I got out bed in the shimmering sunlight that was burning through the window at 8:59 AM, I seriously thought about ending it all...

Like, I got super-duper depressed :( and the image of me bashing my brains against the desk chair, or drowning myself in the toilet bowl, had invaded my mind. Like how an idiot co-worker will invade your personal space for no goddamn reason other than to get attention and to talk, since their wife or husband won't talk to them anymore at home.

Like, that kind of nagging and annoying type of 'invade'.

My 5 step 'commute' to my 'work' is hell on earth. Everyday that I decide to write is like having cancer or no limbs from the waste down. Everyday that I have to stay in my pj's and walk 5 steps to my computer is no Christmas, I tell ya.

It's like the Holocaust....but without the deathly cold winters and the cool uniforms; MP40's and Kar 98's; my Pj's aren't striped, either...

Please, feel sorry for me. Pity is a form of currency I will take in these darkest of times...

To add to my plight, today (and this is so super-duper horrible :( you might not want to read further) I noticed I was running out of beer in the fridge! At the sight of only 10 beers left...I wanted to kill myself, again.

I then had to make the most depressing decision I have ever had to make down here: Should I just go out to the pool (semi-buzzed) or should I drive down to Publix and spend next-to-nothing on another 20 pack of Modelo Especial?

The sad part was, I didn't have time to make a decision....because someone here in the condo had just walked through the door with another fresh case of Modelo Especial. I got so angry at my failure....the failure of me not keeping the fridge stocked properly ( It must have a minimum of 12 beers cold and ready to go),

I began to, again, contemplate suicide; by putting my head between the fridge and it's door; slamming my skull into oblivion and painting the tiles below, red...

If I were married or back in CorporateLand, I wouldn't have any of these problems...because:

A) You can't drink in the office.

B) A modern wife would probably throw all your beer out because you are having 'too much fun' with the boys.

Ah, yep....I sure do wish I would have gotten a 'real job', 'manned-up' and got myself a fat-fucking cunt of a wife who is plotting to screw me over.

If I would have done those things, I wouldn't have to deal with all of these issues I am having down here right now...

Why is God so cruel?....

 

podcast2.jpg

 Copyright © 2025 Frank Cervi   All rights reserved

 

Terms Of Use 

The blog, podcast and books are works of fiction/entertainment. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

All views expressed on this site, podcast and books do not necessarily reflect that of the author's and website owner. All views expressed do not represent the opinions of any entity whatsoever with which the author has been, are now, or will be affiliated.

This site and its content are for an extremely mature reader keen to understanding various points of views to arrive at truth. The objective is not to hurt any sentiments or be biased in favor of or against any particular person, society, gender, creed, nation or religion. However, the truth is objective and feelings aren't facts. If your feelings get hurt, that is your problem and responsibility.

Kindly do not browse through the articles if you believe that certain kinds of content may be offensive to you. Viewing any content of the site is a conscious choice of the visitor. If you cannot understand that you, as a person, have agency and are responsible for your subjective emotions then you are a fucking moron who should not be engaging with this site and its materials.

If anything posted on this site offends you, hurts your feelings or makes you feel unsafe, blame your parents for raising such a fucking pussy.

 

We recommend that unless you are completely convinced, it is preferable that you do not read anything on this site. Simply close the browser window immediately and enjoy the rest of the innumerable web-pages on the internet. Don’t tell us later that we did not warn you. Again, you are an adult and hopefully not a fucking low IQ moron.

Reading this site may cause permanent changes in your thought process and ideology. It may force you to rethink your entire belief system and bring fundamental changes in your personality. Not everyone is ready for such massive transformation and hence we recommend that one better avoid the site.

Sponsored Posts

We cover a variety of topics on The Red Island, however if you would like advice, insight, or for us to cover a specific topic like a recent female teacher sex scandal, you can buy a post.

 

This option is due to the heavy amount of requests and emails that I get, and it's difficult to keep the blog on schedule, do podcasts, craft new novels while keeping an eye on the stock market/my investments if I just answer emails all day long.

If you wish to just simply donate to the booze fund, that's great too. Just skip all these literally Hitler steps all the way down to the bottom and click that fucking button to send some cheddar biscuits (coin) my way. It's always appreciated.

To Get A Sponsored Post |

 

Step 1.

Simply email in with your request by explaining the question/topic you want covered clearly and in succinct fashion.

Step 2.

Your question/topic will be 'reviewed' to determine how much time and effort will be needed to provide the best response. You will then be provided an estimate via e-mail as to what it will cost to answer your question/cover a topic.

Step 3.

If you agree with the quoted price, simply make the payment by clicking the 'Donate' button below these steps using Paypal for the quoted amount agreed upon.

Step 4.

Upon confirming the funds are received your topic/question will be answered. You can either opt for a blog post or for an e-mail response only.

I officially bill out $100 per hour for my time, but in reality most of the e-mails I get can be solved/answered within a 30 min post/e-mail. For an e-mail response only I charge less due to the low-maintenance of not having to make a thumbnail or do extra formatting required on the blog.

PayPal ButtonPayPal Button
bottom of page