SMITH (the magazine whose name must be shouted) mentions an apocryphal bet once made to Hemingway that he couldn’t write a story only six words long. His answer was the touching, heartbreaking: “For Sale: baby shoes, never worn”.
Thanks to the internet, any jerkoff can now do the same thing and think they’re fucking Hemingway too. Just visit Six Word Memoirs and stand among the literary giants while simultaneously doing both the least amount of work and the maximum amount of navel-gazing. Not coincidentally, SMITH is also selling a book of these memoirs.
And now the moment you’ve all been waiting for, my memoir: