Here’s a fun game: Find a blog you’re intimidated by, written by someone unreachably more intelligent than you. Start posting such witty remarks as, “fag!” and “child-molester!”. Do this every day at least once per day. Go to this blog every day and whinge about how much you hate it and can’t stand the author’s “bleeding-heart liberal” views, AND KEEP COMING BACK. Make it part of your routine, along with masturbating over the Sears catalog bra section and bragging to your equally vapid friends about what a big gun you have, hoping they’ll think it means you have a big penis. Pray they never catch you in the showers. Be very afraid of anything new or remotely open-minded. Fear your father. Hate teachers because they make you feel stupid. Abuse your girlfriend because you’re terrified she’ll realize you’re weak. Believe everything your government tells you because you desperately need someone else to do your thinking for you. Keep going to this blog you’ve stumbled across and make sure everyone can see how infantile you are. Become so devoted to this pathetic little ritual that you spend time thinking about it during your day, never realizing what people think of you- not only the other readers of the blog but everyone around you in your tiny little black & white world. They laugh at you behind your back as well as in your face, but feel a little sorry that you fell so far short of your potential. Live your tiny life with your tiny thoughts, and maybe end up featuring on the Darwin Awards if you can manage even that much notoriety.
Do you get it, moron? This is the picture you’re painting.
But you may never read this, because I’m locking you out. You’re too stupid to bother with around here, and we can only hope you’re too stupid to breed.
You ever get the urge to just punch a certain someone, but you know it won’t help?
COMMENT:
For a while you feel like punching, and I’m sure I’d thoroughly enjoy it and I’m even pretty sure this twit would learn something from it, like being hit by a car teaches even the most stupid to look both ways. You can tell he’s small-minded as well as small physically because he’s clearly afraid of so much around him, but surely reeducation at the end of my fist would learn him up good like his daddy does, yes?
Mostly though I’m just bored. It’s tedious stripping out the empty vitriolic garbage from my galleries every day. This mental midget has absolutely nothing worthwhile to contribute, either here or to the gene pool.
It’s the height of comedy that he comes here every day though. I mean, no matter what he does I get the last laugh because he can’t stay away. And it’s pure testimony to his lack of basic intelligence that he doesn’t get that. I tried to tell him, but you should have seen the impotent tirade he went on this morning. If it wasn’t such a tiresome chore cleaning out the shit from the stalls I’d be laughing still.
I’d rather not block all of ICG Netahead from accessing my domain, but then again, it’s not like I’m writing for Colorado.
I honestly don’t think this guy realizes how much he wouldn’t be missed. He is that fly that buzzes uselessly around the center of a room, hoping someone will notice him. Pointless, impotent, easily ignored unless you’re trying to watch TV, and then no more than a momentary annoyance while you squish him and move on, the little fly already forgotten.
Also- huge thanks to Judd for hooking me up with this li’l tool. It’s beauty! Sad that it’s necessary but SO much fun in execution.
Mmm… Sears catalogue.
I personally get off in the “Home and Garden” section.
Wheelbarrows! Spades! Materials to build FENCES!
Evidently he’s on dialup (they’re considerably behind the times in his trailer park) so he was able to lurch through again this morning, doing what he does. So I have to nuke the entire block.
You really have to wonder what losers like that do with the rest of their spare time.
Then again, no you don’t.
*amazed at how much energy you put into someone you dislike so much. I applaud any excuse to use the word Vapid though.
…a shame they willnever read that.