Maturity Isn’t my Strong Point.

A week or so ago I posted this article, in which I discussed how a fellow Cracked writer received death threats for insulting the comment section of the site and the subsequent backlash “true fans” embarked upon to destroy Cracked.com as an entity. Since that article went live, I too have been on the receiving end of some uncalled for abuse, most of it from one man. If you’re familiar with my site, or my book, you’re probably aware that my normal protocol is that I’d publish a post mocking that person. However, in this case, I honestly feel like it wouldn’t make any difference.

Because, here’s the thing, I’ve researched the ever-loving fuck out of this person, no really, I spent hours tracking every comment they’ve made across multiple sites to build up a workable image of this person I could share with you guys (because when I do something, I do it right, ladies). This information is now sat in a folder on my desktop, I even went to the effort of changing my background so it looked like a cow was totally grooving on the sweet nectar of my e-hatred.

Image

However, the image I built up, was of a man who leads a life so cripplingly depressing that I simply couldn’t bring myself to mock him, because nothing I could ever write about him would ever sting more than the realisation that he’s stuck the way he is. And considering some of the other stuff I’ve published here, that’s just sad.

5 thoughts on “Maturity Isn’t my Strong Point.

  1. Indeed. There’s no way you could mock a 55yo sober alcoholic on liver cancer’s death row, whose wife committed suicide some years ago, and who is living off the revenue of the books he’s published, without YOU coming out as a complete and unredeemable asshole.

    That’s okay. I understand.

    • If that’s really the life he leads I’m happy for him to continue with his blog and for him to continue insulting me. If that’s how he makes himself feel better about himself, so be it.

      His situation shouldn’t excuse his behaviour, but it makes it a lot easier to understand why he’s such a colossal asshole about everything.

      I’m used to being insulted, if he get’s some kind of kick out of pointing out how wrong I am or when he sends people over here, or if he feels better about himself when he makes fun of my last name or my looks. I’m ok with that. I’m happy with my life, he obviously can’t say the same about his and that’s sad. There’s too much sadness in this world, it’s why I started this blog. To turn the petty insults aimed at me into things that would entertain people. So words that were intended to cause me sadness or pain would instead cause the people reading them amusement. That was the plan anyway.

      The messages of encouragement I’ve had from people reading my work more than make up for any insult about my looks.

      There’s no amusement to be had looking into his story whether it’s true or not. He’s not just someone sending me a message calling me a fag, there’s something wrong with him, either physical, mental or both. And there’s nothing funny about that. If I have to have him insult me to make himself happy, I’m ok with that because I’m still making someone feel better. And as an entertainer, that’s all I ever want.

      Thanks for reading.

      • He had found a group of friends in the Cracked comments section. They were hanging together there like you would hang out with your pals at the local friendly bar, laughing together at the bartenders’ jokes.

        Then one day, out of the blue, one of the bartenders called them all pedophiles, and when they were hurt and complained, the owner called them cockroaches and threw them out.

        If you want to feel sad about something, it should be that.

  2. Wow, you are one sad piece of shit. Guess the “small dick” part hit a nerve, yes.? I could break you in half, but you’re a coward, right?

    Bitch.

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