Worst Memoir Ever

To most people, Willard Henry seemed like a real piece of shit for his entire life. By his own account he dislikes people, and doesn’t really care what you “pussy-whipped bastards think of me anyway.” He was pretty much like this from a child. Growing up in a small shack in the “middle of nowhere,” Louisiana has a way of hardening a person. Now 97 years old and “kicking harder than a mule on cocaine,” Willard Henry looks back on a life that made him the man he is today, as a “record of what made me the legend I’m gunna become”.

Hello everyone! Had some fun with it today, writing the “opening to the worst memoir ever”… or maybe the best? XD What’d you think? 

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