Sucker by Daniel Horns EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: Daniel Horns
- Language: English
- Genre: Horror Comedy
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
I’m an American, so I always assumed I’d be famous. When it was clear I
was no Thurston Moore or David Byrne, I figured I could at least be a
crusty hybrid between Malcolm McLaren and David Geffen. And so, in an
unlikely move for this black sheep in a family of twenty-four-karat fleeces,
I became an entrepreneur and started my own small record label.
I ran Obnoxious Records with my girlfriend, whose album had come out
as our third official release. Louise, and the rest of Obnoxious, had no clue
about my devious parentage. When I moved to San Narciso, I lopped the
heart off my infamous surname, synonymous as it is with money and evil,
and went from Charles Grossheart to Chuck Gross. With the help of this
punk pseudonym, I was able to keep things pretty separate, and figured my
notorious bloodline would easily remain discrete from my true passion, my
real life.
But it turned out I lacked my dad’s capitalist knack and had to subsidize
the label with the money his money made. I’ll admit, I lied to Louise a little
about our finances. She was under the impression that we had the support of
an eccentric tech millionaire (not a sinister libertarian billionaire / chairman
and CEO of a vast multinational private corporation), but that we also more
or less lived in the black. In fact, we’d lived out our entire run plunged
deeply into the red, kept afloat only by paternal subsidy.
Obnoxious was my baby, but it was a bastard my parents wouldn’t
recognize. For me to keep receiving his funds, my father annoyingly
required some conventional employment, and my noisy vanity project
didn’t count. For about three years I managed to fake him out, but
eventually he called my bluff. With a single phone call from his wealth
manager, Renata, I was cut off.
You have to understand, I had the Buddha’s boyhood, spared any hint of
suffering (save for the psychic cuts and scrapes inflicted by a self-obsessed
father and a Teutonic nanny, along with the mild realization of my scarcity
of talent), so I had no immune system with which to fight the little particles
of woe that would inevitably find their way inside me. I hung up with
Renata, packed a bowl, and prepared myself for a dark fortnight of the soul.
I bought one of those seasonal affective disorder lamps, and it was May.
I was determined to keep Obnoxious alive, but I was in desperate need of
cash. I owed several audio engineers and one producer a lot of money, and a
band was due an installment of their advance. Thanks to a handful of wellreceived releases, we were just about to rise from boutique status, slowly
gaining a national reputation among people who care about these kinds of
things.
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