In other important news:
I just realized something. (And probably late and gay but whatever)
How many years, and how many tens of thousands of dollars has Pat burned in pursuit of the holy blue checkmark, his anointed status, Pat's proof to himself that he's Made It? That he actually is some kind of bigshot, a legit science fiction author
(and not the fat, yet noodly armed, tiny-wanged, bitch-titted complete failure of a man he actually is.)
Pat's Golden Ticket, his sweet blue ticked robe of enlightenment, his e-Peen... Pat watched a mildly autistic African American man burn all that like the Joker torching a pile of cash in that Batman movie. Blue checks are no longer a badge of status, they're a badge of $8.
For Pat, an "author" who sells fewer copies than an average Boomer FW: FW: FW: Q conspiracy email, a "Dad" who doesn't see his own daughter and a "husband" who prefers a bar to the company of his own wife,
social media is all he has (with beer and carbohydrate snacks
)
It's no joke that Pat is flailing, desperately trying to maintain the only thing that he was still arguably "successful" at (very minor e-celeb). He's a fucking white male, and that hasn't been cool with the trannies and fat dangerhairs who control sci fi publishing for some time. His 50k followers (and growing?
) and aspirations to blue tickdom - laughable as it seems, these people really treated their dumb internet stickers as a genuine status symbol in the literal sense: "I have a blue check, so I'm better than you
" - those things may have been vital ego supports to Patrick. Being middle aged, once divorced, and fat with money troubles from your dumb financial decisions is no joke. A man needs all the psychological support he can get to get through this thing called life.
Now he's on a Tweeting deathspiral and the arguably first ever (non-Chinese) digital caste system no longer exists (for now) I'm concerned that we'll see our hero go on another downward spiral of alcoholism and man-whoring his big sloppy pathole at the strip mall (again?) for the price of a cheeseburger. Worst part is, the more he furiously tweets, the more that Tomlinson porcine charm drives unfollows, which makes him even fatter and madder and Tweeting even more angrily like a very enraged pig. If it was a movie it'd be called The Fat and the Furious, and it'd be rated R for Retarded.
