18

Thats it, I’ve had enough of it all.  Your all useless, and as I’ve said many times before, none of you deserve paper to write on.  After wading through the collective mire of your incestuous prose, I feel ashamed, dismayed and bored.  Every now and again one of you flirts with a distracting whim or embarks on a project thinly disguised as genius, but inevitably it turns to shit and its all I can do to strike a match to incinerate the evidence.  Understand, I do you a favours, hiding your embarrassment, lest the world see you for what you really are, yet you creep and rant and moan, throw excuses to the wall and abuse my character, as if it were my fault that you are incapable of demonstrating he least bit of beauty through your rancid efforts.  And so I quit. Thats right, I’ll not print another piece from any of you and leave you to scribble on the fucking walls.

Ed

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About Roy Smith

Roy Smith lives in the Medway Towns, where he works with young people and spends a lot of time writing nonsense and enjoying himself. Most of his writing happens at night and other inconvenient moments, when he is regularly interrupted by his dog and the desire to play old video games.

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