For the most part bloggers are placid animals who only bear their claws on the interwebs when they have been wronged by their husbands, the person who makes their coffee, the wine delivery guy and kids that, well, kids are asking for it.
They don’t have many known enemies for they are solitary by nature, and yet a clan not to be fucked with… and the fuckee generally has a smaller audience so should approach with extreme caution.
The biggest predator of the blogger is the troll.
According to legend trolls live under bridges in slimy waters surviving purely on blog archives and Spam. No wonder they get themselves all worked up in a tizz. Some of my earlier stuff was paltry and the sluggish bowel from existing on tinned meat is enough to give anyone the cranks.
Non bloggers may or may not be aware of a site dedicated to hating on bloggers.
It spans the world and no blogger is safe because this site is like a jolly great cyber bridge for extremist trolls to scurry under, like cockroaches under the fridge, and shoot their forked tongues off about people they’ve never met. Not that cockroaches have forked tongues, but you get the picture.
I vowed to never look at the site.
All websites inciting hate and ire are disgusting and I cannot fathom who has the time to read and comment about people they don’t know.
I don’t actually don’t have the brain space to care if people I don’t know hate on me, because I’m generally paranoid enough about how the people I actually like perceive me, however I had a trickle of traffic from said site and curiosity prevailed. Like a child watching a horror movie I snuck a peek through fingers poorly splayed over my eyes.
They were fairly tame to me, to be honest, I dodged a bullet….but I kept reading.
I saw them hating on people that I consider to be my friends, either online or in real life. They even attacked one of my friends about the name of her dog.
What kind of bored loser attacks a person about the name of their dog?
Sure, if the dog was called Retard, or Tony Abbott, it’s worthy of inciting ire but anything else is no one’s business. I know that I sometimes hear kid’s names that I think they’ll want to punch their parents for in years to come, but really, in the grand scheme who are we to judge?
I’ve had a few trolls on my blog or socials of late hating on me for really stoopid shit and you know what?
Instead of being mature and turning the other cheek or ignoring them, I’m going to flip them a monster bird.
If me using the word vajayjay give you the irits then VAJAYJAY.
When said vajayjay-hater told me to get real I laughed so hard I farted. Then I laughed even harder and peed my pants. I’ve been accused of many things, but fake sure as shit ain’t one of them.
I also note that not everyone thinks the word vagootz is as hilarious as I do, but if you must know the origins – it’s my drag name.
I say vagina every second word at the moment as I’ve tackled labiaplasty, pelvic floor, painful sex postpartum, menstrual cups and tantric sex all in a matter of weeks so I’m fairly au fait in dropping the V word. Also, my three year old is working out the difference between boys and girls so she’s currently asking people in the supermarket, and at tea parties, if they have a vaginas.
As for the uptight chap who had a crack at me about being an entitled and ungrateful twat, I flip you a double bird.
Walk a mile in my Uggs, Bozo.
They’re a little bit smelly, and a little bit stained where I dropped food on them when I was cooking, but even if you read every damned post I’ve ever written, you still wouldn’t get me. And I’m good with that.
So, haters, whether you think I suck (unless you’re talking about my grammar and I know that sucks balls) or someone else is vapid or frumpy take a look at what you did today out of your comfort zone, because sitting behind your computer hating on people ain’t a hobby or a vocation –
It’s cancer waiting to happen.
Ooh, yeah, how good does a rant feel?
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