by Shelton Bumgarner
I’m a nobody. I could literally drop dead this very moment and it would barely warrant an obit. I’m a failed reporter. No one likes me. I have no friends. Lulz. But for some reason of late I get the sense that Very Serious People are interested in me for some reason.
It’s all good. I encourage people to poke around not just this website but my Twitter, Instagram and Facebook profiles. Have at it. Have fun. I’d prefer if you weren’t ICE agents collecting data to justify “disappearing” me, but I guess you can’t have everything.
The crazy thing about the modern Web is everything is everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Unless you’re somewhere on the Dark Web, you can’t really talk about a famous person without at least “their people” noticing it. I think this comes from robots that troll the web looking for people’s names. I think there are services that let you sorta ego surf in a very aggressive manner.
Anyway. I’m different. I’ve never fit in and I never will. I’m not changing and I honestly don’t care if you like me or not. If you ain’t got Habers you ain’t poppin.
It would be cool if you enjoyed my writing. I am writing a novel of about 165,000 words so, you know. But I’m not for everyone. I know this so well that I can come off rather effusive when someone does, in fact, actually like me.
We’ll see, I guess. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe no one is look at my online footprint. It’s just a hunch, afterall.