Here you will find the stockpile of the social media associated with the Creature's Cookbook experiment. You can scroll through it, or simply use the search feature to find posts by keyword.
Read the blog description and see my several published materials. This is not a fantasy. And I talk about burying bodies in 1665…the fire happened in 1666.
Think whatever you like. That is entirely the point of my presence, here. To run an experiment. I never ask people to believe me. And being myself is entirely enough for me.
I’m sorry your life is bland enough you had to spice it up by coming here to tell me how much you dislike me…anonymously. Seems an odd waste of time. I personally never seek out people to annoy me. Enough of those come along without putting in energy on the matter. Case in point… I also don’t wear a mask, but then again, that’s far easier.
(Someone meme this into the Angry Seagull I’m on mobile)
First of all, you goddamn anon, what the everlasting fuck is the matter with you?! Can you read? Do you try? Look mate I’m sorry, but even if Simon isn’t the beloved 2000 Year Old Criter Who Eats People that he claims, you goddamn dingus, you ought to be vaguely fucking familar with the concepts of ‘Pen Name’ and ‘Elaborate Backstory’! I mean, hello, do you come from some hellhole where Sherlock Holmes is unknown? You know, the books WRITTEN AS THOUGH THEY WERE CASE RECORDS PUT DOWN BY DOCTOR JOHN WATSON? I mean I don’t expect you to know about SS Van Dine, you clod, but Lemony Snicket is current and relevant enough to have JUST had a Netflix revival!
Why, why, do I keep having to see my dash clogged in ‘hurr durr, I can’t fucking read or grasp the point of an interactive web experience and have to shout about it’? You numpty! You lout!
Guess what asshole, I’m the one who has to log in and fucking tag and catalog all these fucking things and when my direct deposit comes in it fucking says Simon Alkenmayer on the ‘sent from’ line, you twit!
He! Is! An! Author!
He has three books published online and they’re all coming out in paper editions in March! Which you would KNOW! If you goddamn fucking read!
Jesus CHRIST! Thanks for adding to my paycheck you stupid sniveling illiterate gawp, I hope you choke!
This represents me…paying Jill her “fight Simon’s battles because he could care less about how many imbeciles come to him with the same nonsensical replies, because he remembers the king who died from eating a surfeit of eels” bonus.
Jill, you are a gift to the internet.
I love you too. Now call an ambulance, I think I’m having apoplexy
Go breathe into a paper bag and have a drink.
If I go to the cheap liquor store I can do both at the same time!
…
Some day I am going to buy you expensive port.
I will also accept that as a bonus. ❤️👽
Love you too, Cousin.
It will go nicely with your pipe and the aromatic tobacco
Read the blog description and see my several published materials. This is not a fantasy. And I talk about burying bodies in 1665…the fire happened in 1666.
Think whatever you like. That is entirely the point of my presence, here. To run an experiment. I never ask people to believe me. And being myself is entirely enough for me.
I’m sorry your life is bland enough you had to spice it up by coming here to tell me how much you dislike me…anonymously. Seems an odd waste of time. I personally never seek out people to annoy me. Enough of those come along without putting in energy on the matter. Case in point… I also don’t wear a mask, but then again, that’s far easier.
(Someone meme this into the Angry Seagull I’m on mobile)
First of all, you goddamn anon, what the everlasting fuck is the matter with you?! Can you read? Do you try? Look mate I’m sorry, but even if Simon isn’t the beloved 2000 Year Old Criter Who Eats People that he claims, you goddamn dingus, you ought to be vaguely fucking familar with the concepts of ‘Pen Name’ and ‘Elaborate Backstory’! I mean, hello, do you come from some hellhole where Sherlock Holmes is unknown? You know, the books WRITTEN AS THOUGH THEY WERE CASE RECORDS PUT DOWN BY DOCTOR JOHN WATSON? I mean I don’t expect you to know about SS Van Dine, you clod, but Lemony Snicket is current and relevant enough to have JUST had a Netflix revival!
Why, why, do I keep having to see my dash clogged in ‘hurr durr, I can’t fucking read or grasp the point of an interactive web experience and have to shout about it’? You numpty! You lout!
Guess what asshole, I’m the one who has to log in and fucking tag and catalog all these fucking things and when my direct deposit comes in it fucking says Simon Alkenmayer on the ‘sent from’ line, you twit!
He! Is! An! Author!
He has three books published online and they’re all coming out in paper editions in March! Which you would KNOW! If you goddamn fucking read!
Jesus CHRIST! Thanks for adding to my paycheck you stupid sniveling illiterate gawp, I hope you choke!
This represents me…paying Jill her “fight Simon’s battles because he could care less about how many imbeciles come to him with the same nonsensical replies, because he remembers the king who died from eating a surfeit of eels” bonus.
Jill, you are a gift to the internet.
I love you too. Now call an ambulance, I think I’m having apoplexy
Go breathe into a paper bag and have a drink.
If I go to the cheap liquor store I can do both at the same time!
Read the blog description and see my several published materials. This is not a fantasy. And I talk about burying bodies in 1665…the fire happened in 1666.
Think whatever you like. That is entirely the point of my presence, here. To run an experiment. I never ask people to believe me. And being myself is entirely enough for me.
I’m sorry your life is bland enough you had to spice it up by coming here to tell me how much you dislike me…anonymously. Seems an odd waste of time. I personally never seek out people to annoy me. Enough of those come along without putting in energy on the matter. Case in point… I also don’t wear a mask, but then again, that’s far easier.
(Someone meme this into the Angry Seagull I’m on mobile)
First of all, you goddamn anon, what the everlasting fuck is the matter with you?! Can you read? Do you try? Look mate I’m sorry, but even if Simon isn’t the beloved 2000 Year Old Criter Who Eats People that he claims, you goddamn dingus, you ought to be vaguely fucking familar with the concepts of ‘Pen Name’ and ‘Elaborate Backstory’! I mean, hello, do you come from some hellhole where Sherlock Holmes is unknown? You know, the books WRITTEN AS THOUGH THEY WERE CASE RECORDS PUT DOWN BY DOCTOR JOHN WATSON? I mean I don’t expect you to know about SS Van Dine, you clod, but Lemony Snicket is current and relevant enough to have JUST had a Netflix revival!
Why, why, do I keep having to see my dash clogged in ‘hurr durr, I can’t fucking read or grasp the point of an interactive web experience and have to shout about it’? You numpty! You lout!
Guess what asshole, I’m the one who has to log in and fucking tag and catalog all these fucking things and when my direct deposit comes in it fucking says Simon Alkenmayer on the ‘sent from’ line, you twit!
He! Is! An! Author!
He has three books published online and they’re all coming out in paper editions in March! Which you would KNOW! If you goddamn fucking read!
Jesus CHRIST! Thanks for adding to my paycheck you stupid sniveling illiterate gawp, I hope you choke!
This represents me…paying Jill her “fight Simon’s battles because he could care less about how many imbeciles come to him with the same nonsensical replies, because he remembers the king who died from eating a surfeit of eels” bonus.
Jill, you are a gift to the internet.
I love you too. Now call an ambulance, I think I’m having apoplexy
I don’t try to be, but thank you. I find each of you very interesting as well. I look forward to you poling me at four in the morning to ask me if my nails grow.
Depends where you were. I read and heard all manner of stories. I worked for the man who ran booze on this side, one of the best men I’ve ever known. He was one of the only organized crime rings to have strict rules about how we did things. No one ever got hurt. And all the men got care packages.
In the larger cities, it was bad. A lot of the liquor was made in rural areas and smuggled into the cities, so in fact, the rural areas had a kind of fallout violence, in a halo around the populated areas. I’d say the time just before Prohibition was probably the worst. There was tremendous political upheaval, and the Prohibitionists were exceedingly vocal and vicious.
When it was over, my employer rounded up a gang of us, drove us out to the beach where we’d drag in the shipments, and gave us all a bottle of the whiskey he’d gotten from Canada. I still have the bottle.
I’ve begun a new tag for this because I find the preponderance of them to be remarkable, and I use tags to organize my data.
Let’s play another round of “If Simon isn’t real, what is he”
As we’ve established in the past, there are four possible truths:
1. I am real.
2. I am a human being who is entirely mad and believes himself to be a monster, and because I talk with expertise about eating people, I am an insane cannibal.
3. I am a published author who has come up up with a very clever “hook” to reel in readers, have spent years crafting an entirely insular reality that is fully immersive and welcomes the participants of the reader in a way I think, hasn’t yet been done.
4. I am an incredible asshole. Unbelievable. Willing to do things no human being would ever normally contemplate, including take flack from anonymous idiots JUST so that I can pretend to be a monster and trick people…who aren’t asked to do anything for me or give me anything. Which seems…not a reasonable thing.
Why is “mad cannibal” always the first one people choose? I mean really? What is wrong with people?
Now, please let me compare the only two worth discussing, because I really cannot be asked to seriously address the other two.
If I am real, everything I have said, all the expertise I have demonstrated, all the live chats I’ve held wherein I’ve told stories, all the writings and essays and stories I’ve typed, all the historical analysis I’ve done are all legitimate, The oddness and awkwardness of my manner of speech, my way of dealing with things or thinking about them is explained. All of this is the result of a long life, lived in various parts of the world, observing.
If I am not a monster…then I am one of the following:
1 A team of very fast, highly trained professionals, expert in a tremendous variety of fields, tossing their information at a writer, all bloody day, Because we get off on hoodwinking people.
2. A single author who is an unbelievable genius of unparalleled schooling, with degrees in literature, history, antiquities, biology, expert in a number of trades, well-read on all scientific forms of inquiry, a world traveler, a chef, a folklorist, a historian, a doctor, an herbalist…gods, I can’t even keep track of all the things I’ve demonstrated aptitudes in. And I don’t just do it at a distance with hours to research. I do it in real time with tremendous swiftness, and sometimes in chatrooms. If I am actually this single author, I am wasting my genius on spending all day answering requests for advice, replying to questions about a farce. If I am this author, how on earth could I survive on the small amount made from publishing, I certainly wouldn’t be able to have a job, because if I am not a monster, If I am this single author of such unparalleled wisdom…wouldn’t I have to be reading all god damn day to make it happen? Seems a tremendous bother. I’d have to be an independently wealthy genius, who loves answering email literally 24 hours daily. And we haven’t even delved into the hundreds of messages and notes I receive, the communications and conversations I have all day long with people, seemingly without sleep. Safe to say, I think that while this is the second most likely option, in my opinion it is untenable.
3. Some sort of automated, truly sentient AI
For once…just once, I would like someone who doesn’t believe me to then test me, if they’re so keen on calling me a liar. They never do. They just read a story about me claiming to bury bodies in 1665 and think…what? He’s a mad cannibal.
Read the blog description and see my several published materials. This is not a fantasy. And I talk about burying bodies in 1665…the fire happened in 1666.
Think whatever you like. That is entirely the point of my presence, here. To run an experiment. I never ask people to believe me. And being myself is entirely enough for me.
I’m sorry your life is bland enough you had to spice it up by coming here to tell me how much you dislike me…anonymously. Seems an odd waste of time. I personally never seek out people to annoy me. Enough of those come along without putting in energy on the matter. Case in point… I also don’t wear a mask, but then again, that’s far easier.
(Someone meme this into the Angry Seagull I’m on mobile)
First of all, you goddamn anon, what the everlasting fuck is the matter with you?! Can you read? Do you try? Look mate I’m sorry, but even if Simon isn’t the beloved 2000 Year Old Criter Who Eats People that he claims, you goddamn dingus, you ought to be vaguely fucking familar with the concepts of ‘Pen Name’ and ‘Elaborate Backstory’! I mean, hello, do you come from some hellhole where Sherlock Holmes is unknown? You know, the books WRITTEN AS THOUGH THEY WERE CASE RECORDS PUT DOWN BY DOCTOR JOHN WATSON? I mean I don’t expect you to know about SS Van Dine, you clod, but Lemony Snicket is current and relevant enough to have JUST had a Netflix revival!
Why, why, do I keep having to see my dash clogged in ‘hurr durr, I can’t fucking read or grasp the point of an interactive web experience and have to shout about it’? You numpty! You lout!
Guess what asshole, I’m the one who has to log in and fucking tag and catalog all these fucking things and when my direct deposit comes in it fucking says Simon Alkenmayer on the ‘sent from’ line, you twit!
He! Is! An! Author!
He has three books published online and they’re all coming out in paper editions in March! Which you would KNOW! If you goddamn fucking read!
Jesus CHRIST! Thanks for adding to my paycheck you stupid sniveling illiterate gawp, I hope you choke!
This represents me…paying Jill her “fight Simon’s battles because he could care less about how many imbeciles come to him with the same nonsensical replies, because he remembers the king who died from eating a surfeit of eels” bonus.
Simon's Tumblr Dump 