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Famous and Contagious by Mark Anthony Given


Celebrity is one who is known to many persons he is glad he doesn't know. -H. L. Mencke
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I WROTE a story about a Real Life Heist and turned it into a screenplay which became a major motion picture which became a box office smash which sold millions of books which made me famous and contagious;  I should have never placed my picture on the fly leaf...
FIRST THING that went wrong was my personal assistant hired through a big head-hunter firm in New York turned out to be addicted to drugs and swiped a bunch of my personal effects I had had since was a kid, not to mention opening up several debit cards in my name and robbing me blind.  I got all the money back and she's sitting in the Los Angeles County jail right now, where I hope she stays.
Then I reluctantly let a family member live in the guest/pool house and they got drunk the first night there and took out a whole row of my neighbors' fancy cars in the canyons:  six to be exact.
MY AGENT DIED and his wife absconded with the contents of his office and several of my original manuscripts that were all in negotiation with major book publishers and movie studios...
MY GIRLFRIEND told me her sister was fucking her husband and they all moved in together.  I was so disgusted I told her she had the ugliest shoes I ever saw (fucking Payless Shoes!!) and threw her ass right out the front door of my mansion and she called a big scene and then sold the video rights to TMZ!!  Now I can't stop thinking about her....
SOMEONE COMMENTED on a Facebook Post about a story I wrote, "Dope Sick Angel," and two weeks later was living in my house.  Very first night she was there, after hours of heavy petting, I didn't ball her because I won't fuck any girl that will fuck me on the first date, she's supposed to be tucked away in the guest bedroom and I get woke up in the middle of the night with her crawling around all fours at the foot of my bed after she bumped my bed.  I jumped up in with my fist ready to knock someone out, I jump back against the headboard scared to death I didn't see anything and I look down and this whacked out bitch is down there on her knees rutting thru my stuff looking for who knows what.  I was so pissed off I threw her scrawny ass right out the front door.  
ONE WEEK after publication of "Another Hot Grand," about my bank robbing days, I'm walking down the street in Soho or the East Village in New York City, which is supposed to be known for letting famous people slide, I run into the couple that stops me dead in my tracks and begged me to sign a stupid ass sandwich bag or something.  Made a big production of taking a "Selfie," with me trying not to slap the taste out of one or both of their mouths.  I'm trying to get to this restaurant where some hot chick just emailed right out of the blue wanting to blow my world.  I wine and dine her for an hour or so, I reach for my wallet to pay for the meal and my wallets missing...


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 Information is the currency of democracy. — Thomas Jefferson
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