Because of my unquestionable propensity to become a corporate sellout at every crucial juncture of my life, I took my maiden literary magnum opus MindFucking for Dummies and converted it into a lowly blog. A move I’ve grown to regret every time I indulge myself into the ceaseless cycle of inhalation and the consequential exhalation. I’ve become a more accomplished and yet shockingly underappreciated writer since then. In fact, Someday, I plan to tattoo the letters mffd on my swollen right inner bicep. The initial idea was to have the entire book tattooed on my body (I was watching a lot of Prisonbreak back then). I soon realized that brevity is the soul of wit. So when I can afford it, I shall mffd the shit out of my bicep.

So yeah. This morning, I’m taking a glorious dump, right? And I think of yet another use for mffd. I could rename that shit “How to be awesome at poker” and re-re-re-release it. I don’t know how to play poker. But I know I’d be good at it. And I know that mffd would really help.

As Shakespeare would say, thus endeth mine monstrous writers’ block

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