I can't even being to tell you the honest blood and sweat I pour into this. In some cases, I'm up until the wee hours of the morning carefully crafting my art, working and reworking the plotlines until I'm satisifed that this is the absolute best I can do. I've got hundreds of sheets of wasted paper sitting in my recycle bin. Sure, I'm not Piccasso or Rembrant or Bil Keene or anything, but I try.

What gets me are the one's that obviously don't yet feel compelled to complain about how unfair they're being treated.

You know the ones.

God, I hate them.

They make it so hard for folks like myself to get the kind of audience we really should be getting.

They make me ill.

I mean, how am I expected to share my hard work (or possibly even make a living at it when I'm adrift in a sea of folks like that?)

No, really, I'm feeling quite nauseous.

wait, I think that was lunch.