May 20, 2009

By tigerbeatdown (epic!)

I was a pretty popular kid: had a reputation for being the girl who made out with everyone and did crazy stuff at parties, you know the drill. Anyway, I hit it off with this cute guy, who wrote some pretty great short stories, although… well, I’ll tell you about those later. We got married, and discovered that we were both quite fond of getting crunk. So, we got crunk, a LOT, this guy and I, and he wrote stories about it. Also, those stories? Lots and lots and lots of them were based on me, and sometimes included writing that was actually by me, in that it was lifted DIRECTLY OUT OF MY PERSONAL DIARIES, WTF, SCOTT ANONYMOUS HUSBAND. It got kind of depressing, being known just as the wife of this increasingly famous writer guy, and I tried frantically to carve out something of my own that I could be good at - maybe dancing? Not, as it turns out, dancing - and even wrote a book of my own, although, as it turns out, the guy who had been stealing my writing for stories about our personal life and/or marriage basically ever since we met was not a fan of my writing when my name was actually on it, and felt TOTALLY VIOLATED by the fact that I wrote about our personal life and/or marriage! Crazy, right? Also crazy: me, apparently, because he committed me to an institution. And then wrote a whole other novel about how nutso I was and how hard it was to deal with me. And then I died in a fire. FML.