The Empire Strikes Back

Writing is a two way job. It’s a quid pro quo kind of communication. It is not unlike fucking, where the response of your partner impacts the enjoyment of the act. As a writer the response from your audience helps define your effectiveness as a word master. Most of the women whose clitori I have licked or whose mouth I filled with my cock found pleasure in my generosity. Doing this weekly blog for Booble, the response of my audience (you) helps define my effectiveness as a communicator. Though my ability to generate orgasm and clitoral trembling on the part of my ex-wives, girlfriends and out of work prostitutes, my judgment of the blog audience is much more dismal. It is no wonder that you gallop though this web page in search of some reaffirmation that you are not the zombie you seem to be.

My report card for the last two years about your qualities, intelligence and general capability as human beings proved to me that you are a defective and pathetic bunch of losers.

The last ten blogs I ground out was not met with the seal-like applause my utterances deserved but were rather met by the fog of stupidity and lack of comprehension. Rather than respond to my coherent and insightful words, you as an audience instead repeated the same joke ten times, mostly about me wrapping my body in shit, the importance of Trotsky (Assholes! If he is that important, move back to Russia) and the price of cellular phone services in Sweden. As an audience you are an embarrassment to our public school system and our hopes for a literate populace. You are mindless dumbbells, who have the same trouble manipulating your keyboard as you do your cocks.

You get confused and have early Alzheimer’s as you mix up pissing, shitting and masturbating. You are failures, flawed and even Darwin would say you’ve gone backwards. In survival of the fittest you are the personification and embodiment of de-evolution.

This is the first time I have actually had an audience that read me and responded to me. With Screw my “readers” were jerking off in stairwells and desperately calling hookers and phone sex ad. I had always hoped that I was proud of my audience but now I am ashamed of them. You are like kindergarten children trying to understand Einstein.