Yet another weird ad for my novels


Grammar Nazi Prime sneers at me from atop his podium.  “And so, Kent Wayne, you have been found guilty of violating Grammatical Law, for writing stories aimed at spectacle and wonder, with nary a regard for who and whom, they’re and their, and countless other staples of grammar.  What say you, you prolific piece of inventive shit?”

As I rise to my feet, my chair scrapes the deck.  In the pin-drop silence, it sounds deafeningly loud.  “Your honor…”  I study the floor with downcast eyes.  “Ever since I have put pen to paper, I have agonized over the consequences of my actions.”  I lift my gaze, fixing GNP with a steely glare.  “You have seen fit to end my life.  But I have one last secret to reveal to the world—a secret that will make you reconsider your decision.  A secret that will make you question reality, and everything you purport to hold dear to your heart.”

Grammar Nazi Prime steeples his fingers.  “Make it quick.”

“Very well.”  I take a deep, steadying breath…then reach down my pants, whip out my wiener, and slam it down on top of the desk.  THUNK.  There it sits like a yule log cake, capped by monster glans as big as Darth Vader’s helmet.

Everyone stares in stunned silence.

Someone screams, “He’s a national treasure!”  And:  “Good God, those veins look DELICIOUS!”  Along with the storm of thirsty exclamations, there’s a fair amount of folks who don’t say a thing; they simply gargle like Homer Simpson. 

“Order in the court!”  The judge bangs his gavel several times, wiping the drool from his mouth with the back of his hand.  “Order, I say!  I don’t give a damn about its magnificence or beauty, ORDER IN THE COURT!”  He slams the block with unrestrained force, causing it to jump and flip onto the ground.

No one’s listening. They’re all moving toward me, fixated on my giant hog.  It’s a double-edged sword—the bailiffs can’t reach me, but the mob can.  Dozens of folks are trundling forward, single mindedly intent on gobbling my wiener.

“Get.  OFF!”  I shove one away, kick another in the gut, and shoulder-check the mass of dickmatyzed bodies, trying to force my way through their tightening ranks.  Slowly but surely, they drag me down to the floor.

Fuck it.  No options left.  So I reach in my pocket and open my eReader to a Kent Wayne novel, activating its reality distortion powers.  Magic flash.

Windows blow inward, followed by a stream of super athletic soccer moms.  They start beating peoples’ asses and shoving them away.  In less than a minute, they’ve cleared enough space for one of them to sling me onto her back.

“Thank God!” I gasp.  “They were about to tear me limb from limb!”  I cast a brief glance around at the badass moms.  Man—they are HOT!  Do it, Kent—shoot your shot!  “Say…” I clear my throat as the lady beneath me leaps into a turning side kick.  “Any of you guys interested in dinner at the Olive Garden?  Afterward, we could watch Voltron 84…”  (It’s my go-to ask—no one can resist Voltron and Olive Garden!)

“Shut up,” a soccer mom hisses.  “You think we’re interested in your lame-ass date night?  We’re gonna use you like a cheap piece of meat on sale at Costco, so spare us your amateur Casanova bullshit!”

I almost retort with something snippy, but I bite it back just in time.  Use my body like a cheap piece of meat?  Yes please!  HEH heh heh! 

Kent Wayne wins again!  😀

Have you been sentenced to death by a finger-wagging douche?  A guy whose wiener is ten times smaller than the world’s smallest clit?  Never fear!  Buy my books and get the hell out of Dodge! Get A Door into Evermoor here: A Door into Evermoor. Get Kor’Thank here:  Kor’Thank:  Barbarian Valley Girl.  Get Echo Vol. 1 on Kindle here:  Vol. 1 on Kindle.  Vol. 2 on Kindle here:  Vol.2 on Kindle  Vol. 3 on Kindle here:  Vol. 3 on Kindle  Vol.4 on Kindle here:  Vol. 4 on Kindle  Echo Omnibus here:  Echo Omnibus  Echo Vol. 1 & 2 Combined Edition here:  Combined Edition  Musings, Volume 1 is available here:  Musings, Volume 1  Here’s the miscellaneous gear that I use to try and become an uber-human:  Optimization!  🙂 🙂 😀

Hold on!  I just got approved to be an Amazon affiliate!  If you’re going to buy ANY product from Amazon, and you’d like to support my efforts for absolutely free, then simply click on one of the Echo links I’ve provided—they’ll send you to Echo’s Amazon page—and THEN buy whatever product you wish.  Amazon gives me a small referral fee each time this happens!  In this manner you can support my books, musings, zany ads, or my adventures along the noble path known as The Way of The Man Child WITHOUT spending any more money than you were already going to!  Should you do this, I vow to send you a silent blessing, causing your genitals to adopt the optimum size, shape, smell, and death-ray attachment of choice that paralyzes your enemies with fear and envy!  Entire worlds will bow before your nether parts!  😲💪 😜  #Kindle #KindleUnlimited #WritingCommuni

42 thoughts on “Yet another weird ad for my novels

  1. Steak and pepper sauce! i am nibbling on that shoulder! the end is all of them get magically terminated in a random glitch, as they turn out to be robots driven by me! i smash their bond and take you for a walk to my chmbers” now about that anonymous tip!” i am putting you under protection…this is the address! lol “you drive and i will…show you the way! lol 😋 🍑

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I think Grammar Nazi is actually your subconscious talking or Jeff Bezos talking THROUGH your subconscious to get you to pay your Amazon affiliate fees! I’ve solved your whole dilemma for you! You can get some rest now. You’re welcome.

    Liked by 2 people

  3. Your work is the caricature epitome of the stud dude PI/Cop/Spy/adventurer/superhero character genre. Your love of adverbs is second only to Louisa May Alcott and the Nancy Drew franchise and regardless of your stiff-necked approach to “I am my own editor” it borders on being your early work’s tragic flaw. However, the vast improvement in these blurbs over your early work means we await the mature Buddha who might just become the Faulkner of literary caricature. Keep it crankin’ bro. Balls is balls. And you’re like Tigger in that respect.


  4. Tigger! oh no! – you are animated version of space balls on smack! The smack being your child like foot-stomping, word creating personal fictional directives of only lacking is the vocals of top cat personality voices from the rogues gallery! Tip toeing through the sewers of sensual degredation to play in the swamp of lower level connections! All of which i love! Can i delete the last person from the world…whole point is it is un-edited! un-restricted and caught you the mass numbers of naughty inner children who fail to see the success in prim immaculate worlds that crash coz none of them can ejaculate! they bacame masters of none as their levels died! 🔥 😈🍄 perks to being the angel at the bases!

    Liked by 1 person

  5. hight of luxury and no springs! 😋 🍑 peachily bouncing on it would test it and fortunely the only memory foam mattress with no memory! lol got a few thousand man hours to complete, rhythm and minset in tact you might never want to leave! 🔥 😈🍄

    Liked by 1 person

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