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January 07, 2006


Okay, you know what? I'm as egotistical a bastard as they come, but apparently even my self-love has its limits. After skimming through four years of Whatevers today for the Hate Mail book, I appear to have reached that limit, since by the end of it I was rolling my eyes at my own writing and thinking, boy, you're just one smug son of a bitch, aren't you? Yes, that's a pretty good sign to take a break for the rest of the evening. Hopefully I'll look better to myself tomorrow. Or maybe Monday.

Posted by john at January 7, 2006 11:34 PM

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doubt | January 8, 2006 01:04 AM

"boy, you're just one smug son of a bitch, aren't you?"

Well, no comment really necessary, eh? :-P

Harry Connolly | January 8, 2006 02:47 AM

Are you sure you don't want one more bite of ego? It is wafer-thin. Are you sure I can't tempt you...?

RooK | January 8, 2006 03:28 AM

Bucket at the ready.

emeraldcite | January 8, 2006 12:45 PM

You are a smug son of a bitch, but that's why I come back every day.

John Scalzi | January 8, 2006 02:10 PM

Sure. Validate my bad behavior.

Daruku | January 8, 2006 06:53 PM

Now you really have to be smug to call yourself smug ;)

Soni | January 9, 2006 12:35 AM

I'm with emeraldcite - that's rather the whole point of visiting your snarkilicious blog. That and your tasty wordsmithing skills - thou dost have a way with the verbiage. My fave snippet is the indelible image of the Magnadoodle in an MRI. I think I actually hurt myself when I read that the first time and it still makes me giggle even today. Pure literary gold.

And remember, we were here before you got filthy rich and fan-ficably famous. So, you know, we don't just love you for your money.

And dude - you've literally blogged your way into authorial financial stability. If anyone deserves to be smug it's you. And, of course, Cory D. You two will have to slug it out over who deserves to be the smuggest, though. I'm calling it a tie and going to bed.

Justine Larbalestier | January 9, 2006 03:01 AM

Nah, I totally only love him for his money. Caviar, foie gras and truffles. I'm just saying, Scalzi . . .

Dean | January 9, 2006 07:56 AM

I get like that after about 15 minutes of reading my own shite. It makes revision difficult: I can only sniff my own gaseous emissions for a short time before they start smelling like... well, you know.

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