- Joined
- Apr 19, 2022
Despite responding to every tweet and text, he still hasn't replied to me and I'm his biggest fan. So I wrote a song for him, maybe you'll recognise it's inspiration
Dear Pat, I text you but you still ain't callin'
I left my cell, my pager, and my home phone at the bottom
I sent two texts back in autumn, you must not've got 'em
There probably was a problem at the cellphone office or somethin'
Sometimes I mistyped numbers too sloppy when I jot 'em
But anyways, fuck it, what's been up, man? How's your daughter? (Lol)
My girlfriend's pregnant too, I'm 'bout to be a father
If I have a daughter, guess what I'ma call her?
I'ma name her Norma
I read about your wife Nikki too, I'm sorry
I had a friend kill himself over some bitch who was into farting
I know you probably hear this every day, but I'm your biggest fan
I even got the stand-up shit that you did at the Milwaukee slam
I got a room full of your books and your screenplays, man
I like the shit you did with Shane Moore too, that shit was phat
Anyways, I hope you get this, man, hit me back
Just to chat, truly yours, your biggest stalker child
This is Broadside
Dear Pat, you still ain't text or called, I hope you have a chance
I ain't mad, I just think it's fucked up you don't answer fans
If you didn't wanna talk to me outside your book signing
You didn't have to, but you could've signed an autograph for Matthew
That's my little brother, man, he's only six years old
We waited in the blistering cold for you
For four hours and you just said, "No, child"
That's pretty shitty, man, you're like his fuckin' idol
He wants to be just like you, man, he stalks you more than I do
I ain't that mad though, I just don't like bein' lied to
Remember when we met in Hoolies, you said if I'd text you you would text back
See, I'm just like you in a way
I never knew my father neither
He used to always cheat on my mom and beat her
I can relate to what you're saying in your books
So when I have a shitty day, I drift away and have a look
'Cause I don't really got shit else, so that shit helps when I'm depressed
I even got a tattoo of your name across the chest
Sometimes I even child myself to see how much it hurts
It's like adrenaline, the pain is such a sudden rush for me
See, everything you tweet is real, and I respect you 'cause you tell it
My girlfriend's jealous 'cause I talk about you 24/7
But she don't know you like I know you Pat, no one does
She don't know what it was like for people like us growin' up, you gotta call me, man
I'll be the biggest fan on the East Side
Sincerely yours, Broadside
P.S. we should be together too
Dear Mr. I'm Too Good To Call Or text My Fans
This will be the last message I ever send your ass
It's been six months and still no word, I don't deserve it?
I know you got my last two texts, I did the numbers on 'em perfect
So this is my message I'm sending you, I hope you hear it
I'm on KiwiFarms right now, I'm doing numbers on a thread
Hey Pat, I drank a fifth of vodka
You dare me to shitpost?
You know that recording where you say "Shut your fucking mouth"?
When Josiah made you think he was a reporter?
And took the piss out of how you can't see your daughter?
That's kinda how this is, you coulda rescued me from seething
Now it's too late, I'm on a thousand posts now, I'm howlin'
And all I wanted was a lousy text or a call
I hope you know I ripped all of your pictures off the wall
I love you Pat, we coulda been together, think about it
You ruined it now, I hope you can't sleep and you dream about it
And when you dream I hope you can't sleep and you tweet about it
I hope your CPAP breaks on you and you can't breathe without it
See Pat, shut up bitch, I'm tryna talk
Hey Pat, that's my girlfriend malding' in the room
But I didn't child her, I just told her to shut up, see I ain't like you
'Cause if she malds, she'll seethe more, and then she'll leave too
Well, gotta go, I'm almost at the word limit now
Oh shit, I forgot, how am I supposed to edit this shit out?
Dear Pat, I text you but you still ain't callin'
I left my cell, my pager, and my home phone at the bottom
I sent two texts back in autumn, you must not've got 'em
There probably was a problem at the cellphone office or somethin'
Sometimes I mistyped numbers too sloppy when I jot 'em
But anyways, fuck it, what's been up, man? How's your daughter? (Lol)
My girlfriend's pregnant too, I'm 'bout to be a father
If I have a daughter, guess what I'ma call her?
I'ma name her Norma
I read about your wife Nikki too, I'm sorry
I had a friend kill himself over some bitch who was into farting
I know you probably hear this every day, but I'm your biggest fan
I even got the stand-up shit that you did at the Milwaukee slam
I got a room full of your books and your screenplays, man
I like the shit you did with Shane Moore too, that shit was phat
Anyways, I hope you get this, man, hit me back
Just to chat, truly yours, your biggest stalker child
This is Broadside
Dear Pat, you still ain't text or called, I hope you have a chance
I ain't mad, I just think it's fucked up you don't answer fans
If you didn't wanna talk to me outside your book signing
You didn't have to, but you could've signed an autograph for Matthew
That's my little brother, man, he's only six years old
We waited in the blistering cold for you
For four hours and you just said, "No, child"
That's pretty shitty, man, you're like his fuckin' idol
He wants to be just like you, man, he stalks you more than I do
I ain't that mad though, I just don't like bein' lied to
Remember when we met in Hoolies, you said if I'd text you you would text back
See, I'm just like you in a way
I never knew my father neither
He used to always cheat on my mom and beat her
I can relate to what you're saying in your books
So when I have a shitty day, I drift away and have a look
'Cause I don't really got shit else, so that shit helps when I'm depressed
I even got a tattoo of your name across the chest
Sometimes I even child myself to see how much it hurts
It's like adrenaline, the pain is such a sudden rush for me
See, everything you tweet is real, and I respect you 'cause you tell it
My girlfriend's jealous 'cause I talk about you 24/7
But she don't know you like I know you Pat, no one does
She don't know what it was like for people like us growin' up, you gotta call me, man
I'll be the biggest fan on the East Side
Sincerely yours, Broadside
P.S. we should be together too
Dear Mr. I'm Too Good To Call Or text My Fans
This will be the last message I ever send your ass
It's been six months and still no word, I don't deserve it?
I know you got my last two texts, I did the numbers on 'em perfect
So this is my message I'm sending you, I hope you hear it
I'm on KiwiFarms right now, I'm doing numbers on a thread
Hey Pat, I drank a fifth of vodka
You dare me to shitpost?
You know that recording where you say "Shut your fucking mouth"?
When Josiah made you think he was a reporter?
And took the piss out of how you can't see your daughter?
That's kinda how this is, you coulda rescued me from seething
Now it's too late, I'm on a thousand posts now, I'm howlin'
And all I wanted was a lousy text or a call
I hope you know I ripped all of your pictures off the wall
I love you Pat, we coulda been together, think about it
You ruined it now, I hope you can't sleep and you dream about it
And when you dream I hope you can't sleep and you tweet about it
I hope your CPAP breaks on you and you can't breathe without it
See Pat, shut up bitch, I'm tryna talk
Hey Pat, that's my girlfriend malding' in the room
But I didn't child her, I just told her to shut up, see I ain't like you
'Cause if she malds, she'll seethe more, and then she'll leave too
Well, gotta go, I'm almost at the word limit now
Oh shit, I forgot, how am I supposed to edit this shit out?