frontin like my daddy

What up, church?! These punk-ass agents are still sleeping on "the best screenwriter you've never heard of" (self-proclaimed, of course. But somebody's gotta proclaim something, damn it!) and my job is steadily getting on my nerves. I would quit but the housing market is so bad, I couldn't survive as a full-time agent. Anyway, I bought this book called "Full Frontal PR". It's about how to market yourself effectively so people will sit up and take notice. I need to generate buzz about myself as a screenwriter. Speaking of buzz, it's about time for a trip to Brazil, nah mean?

So my dad is getting married in Antigua in a couple of years. Yes, the dad we all know and love. Ya'll, I could write VOLUMES about how idiotic this idea is. VOLUMES! Look, this man is so self-absorbed, he doesn't scratch his balls without sending out a press release. He's just saying he's getting hitched in Antigua so everybody can say they can't afford it and he can sigh, "Oh, well. To accomodate my poor relations, I suppose I'll get married in Texas". He's so full of it. Frontin like he's getting married in the Carribean. He has no intention of getting married in Antigua! Unless it's Antigua, Mississippi... And where was all this island wedding talk when I was getting married?! He should have been shelling out ends for that instead of strutting around the church in his ill-fitting tux. Imagine stretching a condom over an eggplant. That's how tight that fucking vest was.

Maybe I should take something from my dad's playbook. Front like I'm a famous and sought-after screenwriter and see what happens. I'll do it tomorrow.