ABOUT ME

Welcome to the Shit Show.

Starring Profile P

Profile P
3 min readDec 12, 2022

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my latest avatar

Who am I?

I’ve been writing on Medium for about 93 minus 90 years and have 93 followers who, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, don’t know why they follow me except out of pity or to feel better about themselves.

If the second one’s true and I have a hunch it is, I’m fine with it. We all need a fall guy/girl.

I’m happy to be theirs.

BTW, I secretly judge…television talent shows.

What’s in a name?

I call myself Profile P because what difference does a name make where writing is concerned?

And because it’s my real name.

If that was a gullibility test —

I’d have fallen for it.

What’s in a photo?

My current avatar is descriptive of the adventure we call writing.

It’s not as bad as I’d have you believe.

I’d have you believe I get hardly any views, hardly any readership, and have less than a hundred followers.

Shit! It is that bad!

But everyone goes through some form of suffering concerning their writing, right? Right?!

Some rough patches.

It’s cathartic.

And to saddle up with my previous point about names, I don’t see why I should use a real photo of myself.

I mean, you’d still read Dickens if his accompanying photo resembled an ugly anthropomorphic penis?

Well, I wouldn’t! And that’s why I don’t use my real photo.

Second test? I failed again, didn’t I?

What I write

I choose humor as my medium on Medium cooked medium-ish with the likelihood of being served slightly under or overcooked.

I like to read little-read writers.

I also like to read a little of the more popular writers when I need a lesson in humility, and because they’re usually far too serious, aka they take their writing FAR TOO SERIOUSLY!

I mean Geez! Who do these writers think they are?

Well, I’m about 6 feet tall with brown hair…Oh, not me?

Third time’s a harm.

This place breeds ambitious-hungry men, “ non-men, and all other denominations of hunters and huntresses.

I am not that kind of hunter. I’m below all that.

I seek improvement and connection through experimentation and experience and every now and then, attempt to touch the divine, only to fall shorter than the view bar on my stats page.

Then why read me?

Like a cockeyed slot machine or a mysteriously fed baby draped over your shoulder, you never know what’s going to come out of me.

It’s pure randomness delivered as is.

Most of my attempts and intentions end miserably for your amusement.

Often, I’m left scratching my head while the smoke clears from my screen.

Further, I consider my writing “endeavormentship” the equivalent of an auto wreck where the driver, being me, swerves to avoid some dodgy animal like a squirrel or human, leading to a series of rollovers that end in landing back on the wheels and keeping on driving.

But every once in a while, the gods of the writing heavens bequeath me some small pittance of glory allowing lightning to strike — before it’s promptly reclaimed.

Tickets are available

No, I don’t do meta as good as some do.

And I don’t do snarky-snark satire, as good as others do.

I do it anyway.

Mostly I do me as the shit show where everyone’s invited and usually, everyone leaves after the first act.

Only my brave followers come and stay.

They are my ride-or-die bitches and I am their bitches, too.

A Jerry Maguire to their Rod Tidwell and vice versa.

I do not expect the rest of you to stick around because I’m not for everybody.

I’m not for stuffy serious types who don’t have time to find everyday humor.

But if you are ready to receive the holy sacrament of failure mixed with humor and some redemption awaited, climb the frig aboard!

This train’s ready to leave the crappy station with passenger You on it.

Bloopers

I mean, would you only read Charles Dicken’s son, Emily, if he was as cute as dickens?

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Profile P
Profile P

Written by Profile P

Writing the script to my shitshow one article at a time. I may use affiliate and or sausage links. The end

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