A Brief Castigation Of Moronic Blog Readers

Hey, Fuck Faces -

I don’t come down to where you work and slap the dick out of your mouth. So don’t come here and tell me how to run my own website. I’ve been doing this — to great success — for over five years. If I want to devote a week to crafting a story about a paper doll, I’m going to devote a week to crafting a story about a paper doll. If you don’t like it, or if you don’t think it’s funny, you’re more than welcome to start your own blog. I could care less. I get it. You were pushed around as a kid so now you feel like you need to flood my inbox with e-mails about how “stupid” I am, or how I need to find new music for you to listen to because you do not possess the mental prowess to do so on your own. You’re like the retard I was friends with in elementary school. Eventually I grew up and found new friends because it wasn’t fun being friends with a retard in high school. So now he tells everyone he meets that I’m an asshole. It’s his way of getting back at the world for his own shitty youth. Like him, someday you’ll have to grow up and decide for yourself what constitutes good music. I can’t hold your hand and show you the way you’re whole life. I’m going to move on. It’s what I do. But that’s not the point right now…

If the Flat Conner saga sucked, why has my website averaged more visits in the last seven days — without a single MP3 to induce readers — than in any of the previous four weeks? I’ll tell you why, because it’s fucking funny. If ignorant middle America hicks can find humor in garden gnome disappearances and re-appearances, you educated people should be able to appreciate the absurdity of my hijacking a real-life second grader’s school project and turning it into an embarrassing performance piece acted out in front of my friends and co-workers for almost a full week. It was complete ridiculousness. I enjoyed every second of it.

And no, the story isn’t over. Do you want to know why? Because I haven’t resolved it yet. Also, I lost Flat Conner for real today…so I kind of have to find him. It’d be horrible for me karmically to ruin an eight year old’s year-long school project. I don’t want that shit weighing on my conscience. So…once I find Flat Conner I can write the final chapters of this story and send him on home to Michigan. I know better than to tempt fate when a chain letter is involved. I’ll have terrible luck with money and love for the rest of my life, and God knows I’m an empty shell of a man without pussy.

So yeah, if you’re going to complain about what I chose to blog about, don’t bother visiting. If you just want to see what music I’m listening to, you can go away too. I’ll get on just fine without you. If you tell me to “cut the crap” I will ramp up the “crap” even more. If you ask, “is this supposed to be funny?” in reference to my taking a little kid’s paper doll and racing all over LA with it taking photos and concocting an insane kidnapping story…well, fuck yes that is funny. Duh. And I’ll keep doing it so long as it amuses me.

Sincerely,
The Administration

Oh man…that felt soooooooooo good.