Patrick Sean Tomlinson / @stealthygeek / "Torque Wheeler" / @RealAutomanic / Kempesh / Padawan v2.5 - "Conservative" sci-fi author with TDS, armed "drunk with anger management issues" and terminated parental rights, actual tough guy, obese, paid Quasi, paid thousands to be repeatedly unbanned from Twitter

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Rascals have dug up an old news article about Pat's father crashing his car while drunk and injuring three people. Seems alcoholism and idiocy run in the family! The address is confirmed as Patrick's grandmother's (Eau Claire, Route 4)

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Bit of confusion over the middle name by the way, cos one source lists him as Thomas E. Tomlinson and others as Thomas G. Tomlinson. General consensus is this is just a printing error or something. I mean, you've seen the photos. It's clearly Pig's dad, Jesus.
 
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Inspired by Oney's video about NovelAI, I used a free trial to see how the AI would handle the story of Patrick Sean Tomlinson.
Patrick Sean Tomlinson is fat and grinds up black babies for his pepperoni. He has a long, narrow face with deep-set eyes that are nearly colorless, but which show an overwhelming fear of something unseen. His hair is yellowish and curly, falling away from the sides of his head in thick clumps. It's matted to his scalp in places. Patrick wears glasses, which he uses as frequently as possible, and has been known to wear them indoors. He works at a small office supply store on Main Street. He lives alone, in a small apartment above the store.

His family was well off. His mother, who worked as a receptionist at a large law firm, had money to spare and spent it freely on her children. Patrick lived a quiet life in New York City until he turned twelve years old when his parents divorced; they took very little time with each other before separating, which left Patrick feeling abandoned and angry towards his father. All of this anger came out during his first year of high school, where he became one of the most feared students in class due to the sheer amount of fights he got into. This did not sit well with the rest of the student body, so Patrick was expelled after only a semester of high school.

After being fired from his job at Office Depot, Patrick moved back to New York City, where he had grown up, and began working odd jobs around town. The work was easy, but Patrick found himself bored and unsatisfied; he wanted more than just a living wage. Patrick decided to return to college and take classes toward a bachelor's degree. He transferred to a nearby university and studied business, though he found that all of the information he learned still did nothing for him. Even with his new knowledge, Patrick continued to feel restless. He had no idea what he wanted to do with his life. One day while shopping in a grocery store, Patrick saw a box of pepperoni in the refrigerator section. After staring at it for several minutes, he grabbed the box and took it to the cashier. "What's this?" asked the clerk.

"This is pepperoni," answered Patrick.

The clerk looked puzzled. "I don't see any pepperoni."

Patrick pointed to the box, which he had opened and examined. There were two slices of red meat and a few shavings of cheese inside. "You mean you didn't know there was pepperoni in here? Well, now you do!" The clerk stared blankly at Patrick for several seconds, then finally laughed and gave him a discount on his bill. Patrick left the store happy that he had been able to provide some amusement for the other customers.

Shortly thereafter, Patrick purchased a small hot dog cart and began selling sausages from it on the streets of Manhattan. He made quite a bit of money doing this, enough to open his own storefront in the city, where he sold hot dogs. In time, he expanded his business into a chain of restaurants across the country. With the extra money he earned from the restaurant industry, Patrick bought a small house near the edge of the woods. On impulse, Patrick decided to buy a gun and went hunting.

Several days later, Patrick returned home to find that the forest had swallowed his house. He searched through the trees for weeks without finding anything that resembled a human dwelling. Eventually, Patrick realized that there was no way that his home could have survived the forest's growth. Confused and angry, Patrick drove back to New York City and began looking for answers.

***

Evan Smith is young and skinny. He has dark skin and short black hair that falls over his eyes, making it difficult to read his expression. Evan works at a gas station, which he likes because of all the free coffee, and lives alone in a small apartment.

In his youth, Evan grew up in a large family in the suburbs, where his father, a retired police officer, was extremely strict. Evan often felt neglected by his parents, who were too busy with their own lives to pay attention to him and his sister. At fourteen years old, Evan was sent to a boarding school outside of Boston.

There he met a girl named Megan, who was a year older than him and knew how to live. They started dating almost immediately and stayed together until graduation. When Evan graduated from college, he decided to move to California and pursue acting. He landed a few minor roles in shows like ER and CSI, but never really gained any traction. He was never sure if his dream of becoming an actor was ever going to come true.

One day, while walking down Hollywood Boulevard, Evan noticed a small stand advertising a unique product: "Human meat sausages." Evan stopped to look at the stand and watched as a man placed a large chunk of meat on a cutting board. He chopped off a piece with a sharp knife, which he offered up to Evan. "Try it," said the man.

Evan hesitated for a moment and then took the sausage in his hand. His mouth filled with saliva instantly and he took a bite. "Wow! That's great!" exclaimed Evan.

"It's hot and spicy, isn't it?" asked the butcher.

Evan nodded. "That's exactly right."

After eating several more of the sausages, Evan ran into the butcher again. "Hey, buddy, I'm serious about getting into acting. Can you recommend me to someone?"

The butcher smiled and handed him an envelope. Inside was a card with an address and a phone number. "Give this to the guy on the corner of Sunset and Vine. Tell him Evan told you to call."

A few days later, Evan called the man listed on the card and received a callback within the hour. Evan explained his background and asked if he might be interested in meeting. The man agreed to meet with him and suggested a coffee shop in Westwood, where both men could talk privately. Evan arrived early and sat down at a table, waiting nervously for the other man to arrive. After fifteen minutes or so, he saw a tall man walk into the shop. He was wearing jeans and a black leather jacket, with his hair pulled back in a ponytail.

"Hello, Evan," said the man, extending his hand. "My name is Patrick Sean Tomlinson."

They shook hands and Evan sat down next to Patrick. "How'd you get my name?" asked Evan.

Patrick grinned. "I've been following you for a couple of days, and I think you're good. You have potential."

"Really?" asked Evan.

"Absolutely. What kind of acting have you done?"

"Nothing yet," answered Evan. "I'm still trying to break into the business."

"Well, why don't we start with a commercial?" asked Patrick. "I can make it happen."

"Could you?" asked Evan. "I mean, would you really do that for me?"

Patrick chuckled. "Of course I will! I want to help you."

A few hours later, Patrick called Evan at home to tell him that he had a meeting set up with the director of commercials, who was also a casting agent. Patrick gave Evan a list of instructions on how to prepare for the audition and finished by saying, "Just remember, you're the one who's gonna make this happen."

Two days later, Evan arrived at the studio in Los Angeles. He sat nervously in front of the camera, reading lines aloud. After several takes, the director asked Evan to go out into the hall to wait for the producer. Patrick stood behind the cameras, watching the shoot. He motioned to the cameraman, who switched lenses and began filming Evan.

Finally, the producer appeared. "Okay, Evan, let's do another take."

Evan read the line again, then walked out into the hallway. Patrick followed him out. "Hey, Evan," said Patrick. "I hear you're a pretty good actor."

Evan froze. "Who told you that?"

"Nobody," answered Patrick. "I just heard it from someone else. But it's true, isn't it? You are good."

"Yeah, I guess," answered Evan. "But I'm not sure I'll ever really get anywhere with acting. It's like a pipe dream of mine."

"Why don't you give it a try? Give yourself a chance. If it doesn't work out, you can always go back to the gas station."

"Thanks," said Evan. "You've helped me a lot. How much do I owe you?"

Patrick laughed and shook his head. "Nah, don't worry about it. Just keep me in mind if you need any help."

Evan nodded in thanks and returned to the set. The scene continued for many more takes, with Patrick standing behind the camera each time. Evan kept thinking about Patrick's words as they filmed. He'd given himself a chance. Now he was going to try to make things happen.

***

The following morning, Patrick woke up early and drove into Los Angeles. He entered the studio early and waited outside for Evan. After a few minutes, Evan arrived and walked past Patrick without saying anything. Patrick followed him into the building and all the way to the dressing room. "Good luck," said Patrick. "I hope everything works out for you."

Evan nodded. "Thanks. I really appreciate your help."

Patrick smiled. "Don't thank me. Thank Evan."

Patrick left the studio and headed straight to the address Patrick had given him. He parked his car in front of a large mansion in Bel Air and climbed the stairs. A woman wearing a long white dress greeted him at the door. "Are you Patrick?" she asked.

Patrick nodded. "Yes, I am."

"Come in," she said. "We're ready for you."

Patrick knocked on the door and was led upstairs. The woman opened the door, revealing a large room with a giant screen in front of it. On the screen, Patrick saw himself acting in a commercial for a new clothing line.

"Did you like it?" asked the woman.

Patrick looked at her and laughed. "That was awesome!"

She smiled. "Thank you." Then she turned around and disappeared into the shadows of the room.

Patrick stood there for a few moments, staring at the screen. Finally, he walked over to the door and exited the room. As he stepped onto the street, Patrick noticed a man approaching him from across the lawn. He was dressed in a black suit and sunglasses and seemed familiar to Patrick. The man extended his hand and said, "Hi, Patrick. I'm Evan Smith."

"Oh. Hi," said Patrick. "You're the one who put me in the commercial."

"Yes. Do you know what it means?"

Patrick shook his head.

"Think about it," replied Evan. "If you want something badly enough, then you must believe that it's possible."

Patrick nodded.

"And you should always be nice to people," added Evan. "People like you because you're friendly. People like you because you care about them. And they trust you because you show them respect."
 
Rascals have dug up an old news article about Pat's father crashing his car while drunk and injuring three people. Seems alcoholism and idiocy run in the family! The address is confirmed as Patrick's grandmother's (Eau Claire, Route 4)

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Bit of confusion over the middle name by the way, cos one source lists him as Thomas E Tomlinson and others as Thomas G Tomlinson. General consensus is this is just a printing error or something. I mean, you've seen the photos. It's clearly Pig's dad, Jesus.
Just curious- what date was this crash?
 
His covers look like he paid someone on Fiverr to do minimal edits to stock illustrations anyone can buy for $19.99. I’ve seen more striking images in elementary school art fairs. His publisher definitely isn’t investing a dime in creating compelling cover art for this fat pig.
Stock art especially for specific genres like this collection of futurist magazine art can be pretty cool. Link rel
https://kingsanda.tumblr.com/archive

I agree that Fat's publisher made a good choice in investing little effort in him and his word salads. However, I am forced to conclude on the whole that they made a retarded decision in working with him at all.
 
For some reason whenever I see Fat's full name I always feel like the Sean should be pronounced "seen" instead of "shaun". This only happens when I see Fatrick's name, never any other Seans in the world.
For some reason whenever I see Fat's surname I always feel like Tomilson would sound better, or at least easier to memorize than TomLinson
But seeing how he is, there's a good reason why he has that L in his surname

Seems alcoholism and idiocy run in the family!
Now he must follow the tradition and crash his car too, he wouldn't want to disappoint his ancestors, does he?
 
You can buy and return Kindle books for a full refund if you set aside the time to plough through rather quickly (and use multiple Amazon accounts to do so).

I also took a gander at abebooks.com and confirmed his books are going there for pennies. There are also a few CDs of the audiobooks. I saw something else that might have been previously discussed, but it was new to me: Pat contributed to a book entitled Eighth Day Genesis: A Worldbuilding Codex for Writers and Creatives.

Yes, it’s terrible. But his bio is the best part, so I’ll lead with that:

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Thanks, Google Books:


I also spotted this, which has clearly already been discovered by the pests. But it got me thinking:

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Is this fat nigger putting out books under a pseudonym?

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I like how Rick's chapter in this book has a couple of typos and some scientific inaccuracy like attributing all nucleosynthesis of heavy elements to supernova (most are made from neutral stars) or saying Earth's day was 6 hours long (it only was for the first few million years after the Moon formed). And why are there no references to whatever source he copied for the science but every single movie he cites gets a reference?

Most glaringly, why is Patso mentioning eating alien life found in Europa's oceans? Can this fatass ever not think of food?
Why not that's what the Koreans do Seoul literally means Capitol City

Still a very morbidly obese thing to do.
That's only common in East Asian countries (i.e. "Tokyo" is "Eastern Capital" and so is the old name for Hanoi "Tonkin"). Although the precedent in SF is there since in many of George Lucas's drafts/the early Star Wars EU, the capital of the Empire was simply "Imperial Center".
 
This is not only horribly written, it is literally the archetypal incel cope, and as misogynistic as it is possible to be without actually trooning out. It is amazing woketards tolerate this sexist pig.
1. Barely anyone has actually read any of his shit, so how would they know, and,

2. They’re too busy jerking off to it.

A Tony Stark expy that can’t stand up to his own AI not because it’s hot and wants the dick. Gonna press X to doubt on that one.
 
And why are there no references to whatever source he copied for the science but every single movie he cites gets a reference?
Because he doesn't read the scientific sources, and only watches cheap pulp scifi movies.
That's only common in East Asian countries (i.e. "Tokyo" is "Eastern Capital" and so is the old name for Hanoi "Tonkin"). Although the precedent in SF is there since in many of George Lucas's drafts/the early Star Wars EU, the capital of the Empire was simply "Imperial Center".
I'll disagree on the Tokyo aspect; while the ideograms are "East" and "Capital", it's actually a play on words. The old capital was Kyoto and they just reversed the syllables when they moved it. After reversing the syllables, they just found appropriate ideograms that had the proper sounds while having an appropriate meaning. This happens a lot in Japanese and Chinese, and has it's roots in Daoist/Confucian name magic. Think of it as the Japanese version of a backronym.
 
Putting out books under a pseudonym would imply working more in secret, and I don't think he has the time to do that between the myriads of tweets per day and not getting on with his shitty Christmas Carol fanfic.
Plus think of how well hidden he kept his Porque Squealer pseudonym without a single rascal knowing for so long. The man is clearly a fortress of personalities, able to express himself in any way he choses, picking his characters like you'd chose between your red shirt or your green shirt. In short, Patrick is better than us. Much better than us. We are garbage. He could be running half of OnA with alts for all we know.
 
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I was curious so I took a look on audiobookbay (pirate site for audio books) and only three of his books are there. Hardly anyone even wants to steal his worthless shit.
So i found an essay he wrote for some world building book it was mediocre 5.5/10 but i was thinking he wouldnt be a half bad pop-sci writer if he wasnt retarded he writes in a nice sorta breezy style that makes hard topics go down easily, still obscenly fat, and i will admit i only skimmed it.
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So i found an essay he wrote for some world building book it was mediocre 5.5/10 but i was thinking he wouldnt be a half bad pop-sci writer if he wasnt retarded he writes in a nice sorta breezy style that makes hard topics go down easily, still obscenly fat, and i will admit i only skimmed it.
The only time I saw him say something about science that he was right about, he'd cribbed it almost directly from a news story.
 
So i found an essay he wrote for some world building book it was mediocre 5.5/10 but i was thinking he wouldnt be a half bad pop-sci writer if he wasnt retarded he writes in a nice sorta breezy style that makes hard topics go down easily, still obscenly fat, and i will admit i only skimmed it.
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A stable of Ford Mustangs? Since when? Looks like Quasi might be getting a new car.....
 
A stable of Ford Mustangs? Since when? Looks like Quasi might be getting a new car.....
Another classic Tomlinson Tall Tale. Pat, his ex wife and her brother all had Mustang's. Adrienne apparently totaled one according to a rascal on the forum. Pat has had two POS Bullitt Mustang's and one even bigger piece of shit but never at the same time. He had the audacity to tweet pictures of them at Ford once trying to blag a test drive of the newest model at a car show and was, obviously, completely ignored. His "fleet" is part of his classic "fake it til you make it" strategy where he was also training to compete in triathlons. I would literally consider giving up one of my kids for a 4k unedited video of Pat competing in a triathlon.
 
Keeping with the family tree, next to be looked into was Pat's mother, the famous hashtag inventor, Judith Raven. I like my vintage broads I tell ya, but Momma wasn't a looker no sir.
Tried looking for her in that chorus photo, but fuck me did she go to some weird cult school? Why they all got the exact same hairdo?!
Pat clearly got most of his looks from daddy, his brother Kyle looks more like ol' Judy

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