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Apparently we'll never grow out of twank.
Oh, deer. AG Double-Oh-Three has deleted her Twitter. Now we have to go upload all our screencaps of her tweets and edit them into the last post. First world problems suck.
Why would she do this? Seems someone on the gazebo wanted to know where the original Twankhard went, and whether it was really AG. Jennday posted a whole lot of… Jesus, it’s all “I posted a link, and someone clicked it, and that someone’s IP was in a certain city and that’s where AG’s LinkedIn profile says she lives, and btw here’s the whole IP without any of the numbers blacked out AND THAT’S HOW I KNOW.”
We feel so lazy. All we did was compare the IP when Twankhard posted here once to one of AG’s from…erm, somewhere else. We are fat lazy moos.
Anyway, AG supposedly tweeted “Hey, thanks for posting my IP, RL name, address, and former employers on The Gazebo. That’s totally not crossing any lines. You won guise!” before flouncing Twitter. Derp…if you don’t want people knowing your name, probably best not to give interviews to msnbc.com or sit a ComicCon panel. Where was there an address? The only “former employer” we know of is Icy herself, whose privacy during a discussion about a service she was purchasing wasn’t exactly honoured.
Ugaiz, there’s like this line you just don’t cross. But it only goes one way.
What would you personally consider success in fandom?
Lots of reviews? An award? Seeing your name in every love post?
…A printing publishing deal?
If your ultimate goal isn’t to have a fanfic about you, Jennde, Icy, Morgan Locklear, and Ninapolitan posted on ff.net, then you’re obviously just treading water until your trust fund kicks in. You are dead weight, and are hereby voted off this island.
ETA: Link is no longer valid. See screencap here.
ETA II: Oh noes, we have a flounce!
But alas, talent is a beast with it’s own set of parameters. It literally chooses you. Sebastien didn’t know it, but he had indeed been chosen.
He was a writer, so of course he wrote, and wrote, and wrote some more. Does a cow not produce milk? Does a duck not quack?
Does a bull not shit?
His editor Jennde was his most trusted friend, and the only one to see his masterpiece as it formed slowly over the months. Each successful posting, brought people by the millions out of the woodworks, leaving poor Sebastien to abuse his own lip with his awkwardly capped fangs, and made him wonder if perhaps he should have rethought his endeavor.
Too late. The barn door is open and the horses are dead. LET’S BEAT THEM!
He was becoming utterly-famous. He shuddered at the realization.
ZOMG! That’s how we reacted too!!11! *fangirl squees*
“He’s not taking it down!” Jennde told Icy, which turned the Icy lady cold with anger.
“Yes, he will. If you don’t…” she eyed Sebastien, as he held tight to the leather chair beneath him. “Then I turn her. Your choice.”
This trainwreck would not be complete without a cryptic, panty-drenching review from Morgan Locklear, in which one of us finally realizes that MOG does not in fact mean “Mother of God.”
We’re shaking in our skivvies as we wonder just what the evil puppetmaster has in mind…
If you came in here with even an ounce of self-esteem today, we sincerely hope it’s gone. Damn, just when you think you’ve made some headway along the Alpine Path, you look up from your well-written, cliché-free manuscript and realize that Sebastien Robichaud/Sylvain Reynard is already at the top.
Not that SR’s life is perfect, not by a long shot. If it were us, we’d want our hagiographies done by someone other than Miss RMD, who brought us the epic tale My Name Is Edward. At the very least, we’d hope for someone with a better grasp of mechanics so the tribute doesn’t read like a colossal clusterfuck. But hey, you get what you settle for in this world.
Nonnie, thank you. As much as we’d love to have called satire on this one…what the shiz. Either way, it was still funny.