To Whomever Stole My Work,
I don’t know who you are, but you came onto my site one day and read my blog post Rules For Dating My Son. Well, who knows, you could be someone I know. I’ve been writing my blog for less than a year now and I have a small readership. I appreciate every single one of my readers, except you. You enjoyed my work, maybe got a laugh out of it, and then promptly stole it. You reposted it to an internet meme without giving me any credit whatsoever. Your stolen version has been shared millions of times, and now it is being sold on t-shirts. The people selling my original work, without permission, feel free to do so because they got it from an unaccredited meme. That’s your fault. You did that. You stole my work and now others are making money off of it. You could have easily given me credit for my words. My words, those things a writer lives and dies by. Get off my blog and never come back! Get off of everyone’s blog because you’re likely to steal their work as well. You are low-down dirtbag scum and you completely suck.
April Sopczak AKA That Person You Stole From
To Everyone Else,
Please share this so that, hopefully, the schmuck sees it.
Ever have one of those moments that leaves you thinking, “Um, what the heck was that all about?” Yep, I had one this morning and thought I’d share it with you. Enjoy!
Me: (quietly finishing up with the million questions the debit card machine asks)
Random Dude: (places his basket full of massive jars of protein powder and other gym dude food on the checkout counter)
Cashier: Time to restock, huh?
Random Dude: Yeah, I ran out of everything all at once.
Cashier: Yeah, that usually happens. It’s like everyone who came through my line either wound up pregnant or their car broke down.
Me & Random Dude look at each other with a look that says, “Um, what?! No, those two things are not alike. Not at all. Not even a little bit.”
Cashier: (continues down the pregnant/car broke down paradigm path of craziness with a diatribe that makes absolutely no sense)
Me: Hmm… well, let’s hope my car breaks down ’cause I can deal with that a lot better than getting pregnant!
Random Dude breaks out in a fit of laughter as I walk away.
On the way to school this morning, my son and I walked near a lady and her two children, one of which was a girl named Serenity. The whole way there the mom kept saying, “Serenity, stop. Serenity, come back here. Serenity, settle down.” The irony was hilarious, but I nearly lost it when she sternly said, “Serenity, now!”