Some of my more observant readers may have noticed that perched atop my site lies a Cracked banner, which amongst other things, contains links to various other Cracked blogs. A quick perusal of their sites reveal that they have been apparently been culled from the middle ranks of LiveJournal humour sites.
Normally these other bloggers don’t concern me too much, but because of one of my favorite hobbies (Googling myself), it’s come to my attention that these fellows have been talking about me. This didn’t catch me unexpected – in fact I outright encourage this sort of behavior. I am after all, fascinating. However, unlike the legion of Robotman fan sites and Robotman slash fiction sites that dot the Internet, these blogs have only been focusing on my unflattering traits, instead of, let’s say, my powerfully muscled ass.
For example, here Sean Crespo alleged that he saw me speaking a Mohammidan tongue called “Arabic”, about some sort of vicious attack on “America”, in some sort of “chatroom.” These charges are patently ridiculous, and I explained as much to him using both the comment feature of his web site, and small, easily understood words.
MW, who is normally a reliable sort, in that most of his posts don’t spew bile at me, here claims that I eat piss. Which is technically true, but hurtful. Picking that one fact about me to relay to his readers appears to be a deliberate attempt to hurt me, as were he to mention an interesting fact about me completely at random, the odds dictate that it would almost certainly be about my powerfully muscled ass.
Responding to these attacks in a similar fashion would only add fuel to the fire. Hateful words would beget more hateful words until someone – not me – ran from the blogging scene in tears, never to return. Therefore I won’t respond with more slanderous outrage, or ludicrous lies that aim to humiliate my wayward blogging companions.
Instead I will dig a pit in front of MW’s house and put some branches over it.
My aim here is to wait in a nearby vantage point (unmarked van, shrubs, zeppelin) and watch while MW exits his house, crosses one of the many piles of dead foliage that litter his yard, and plummets unsuspectingly into a pit.
It will be hilarious.
Because I’m not a vicious sort, I won’t line this pit with spikes, or Poison. No, I want MW to survive, and given ample time to reflect on his transgressions. To that end, at the bottom of the pit I will place a box of Raisin Bran, and 3 Tom Clancy novels, to give MW something to eat and something to sit on, respectively. So that he has a reasonable chance of escape, I will also place a rope ladder nearby, to be found by one of the many strangers who respond to MW’s craiglist ad seeking anonymous sex.
Because my pit digging arms will be tired after this, I won’t be able to strike Sean Crespo in a similar fashion, although I would advise him that if he owns any small, easily kidnapable pets, he’d do well to teach them to sleep with their eyes open.
You fools. You’ve opened a can of worms now. You have no idea how powerful I am.