Anonymous Assholes

The more blogs I read, the more I see the spineless, gutless, cowardly fuck-droplets known only as "anonymous". Well, anonymous, as we used to say back in Kentucky, fuck you! (Were you expecting homespun wisdom?) I only let bloggers post comments on my blog, not because I think bloggers are so god damn special but because if I get criticized or insulted I want to be able to examine the work of the person who shit on my house. If a blogger takes the time to read my blog and comment, "Dude, your blog sucks," or "Get a life, man," such wit should not go unrewarded. I want to be able to go to their blog and read poorly formed sentences about velvet paintings or which total stranger's underwear is stuck to their face; whatever passes for a coherent thought in the empty cauldron they call a head. Then I can rain ass-drizzle down on their house by replying, "Your blog sucks Dakota Fanning's underage femme-schlong."

But Mr. and Mrs. Anonymous sit cozy in their cushy lairs (polite-speak for dirty hovels) and are free to insult at will, with no fear of comeuppance. Last week someone anonymously insulted me on this humble blog. They actually ignored the blog's content and insulted me personally. I flew off the handle and told the offender to go fuck his family, etc., but after a minute I realized how stupid I was for yelling at no one, so I deleted the insult and my immature response to it. Yes, I'm quite aware I said "Fuck you" to all anonymous insulters at the beginning of this post. That was for comedic effect.

To ensure the above scenario never repeated itself, I disabled all anonymous comments. I have a few non-blogger friends back home who read my blog and occasionally like to comment, but now they can't because a craven bungsack had to prop himself up by tearing me down.

I have been insulted and criticized by a few bloggers. Before I discovered the joys of spell check, a few self-appointed editors seemed to enjoy pointing out my misspells and typos. Such pettiness makes me break out in pus-filled hives. I think I was once belittled by a blogger using a different alias, which if true pisses me off even more than the anonymous thing, but I have no proof. Just two weeks ago a girl who I was kind enough to interview only a day before told me I had a lousy sense of humor. I wanted to reply, "I've read your blog, and your complaining about my sense of humor is like Stevie Wonder making fun of me for wearing glasses," but for some reason I restrained myself. No lie, it was like if Christopher Reeve had laughed at a guy who walked with a limp.

In closing, if you're alone and feeling superior even though you yourself create nothing, don't be an anonymous hater. Do the world a favor and be an anonymous suicide statistic.