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Violent Acres: Biggest Snob of All

Baby Boomer Going Like Sixty Posted on by

His assertion was those who read my website worshiped me and would listen to anything I said. I told him he shouldn’t be fooled. My audience is a fickle bunch who would turn their collective backs on me the very second I wrote something disagreeable.

I read the post and am just totally flummoxed. But it was entertaining to wander all over her noggin.

UPDATE: Violent Acres missed the boat. A guy just published a book A$$hole: How I Got Rich and Happy by Not Giving a Damn About Anyone and How You Can Too.

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Comments

Violent Acres: Biggest Snob of All — 6 Comments

  1. Arrgggh, matey. I have no words, and you know how rare that is for me. The most popular bloggers I know — cases in point, Miss Doxie and Holly of Nothing But Bonfires — make fun of themselves, and do not attack anyone else. This is why I have never quite understood the popularity of Dooce, who publicly excoriates anyone who speaks against her.

    ‘Cause you know what about words? In the olden days, when folks could write pages and pages by hand and cast them on the fire, one could write what one wished, vitriolic as may be. But today, on the ‘Net? Once you post them, words are forever. I don’t wish to spew hate into the Universe. Someday, it might get me back, one way or another, so I don’t do it. (And apparently I completely lied about that “I have no words” bullshit.)

    (P.S. to GLS: missed you! Coming back to reality sucks ass, but at least I’ve got my virtual friends.)

    Gretchen’s last blog post..DAMN.

  2. @Gretchen: I am honored that I must have been among the first blog you commented on after vakay.

    I’m that way about bitter words. But since I’m near death anyway, not quite as concerned as I should be I guess.

  3. No, sweetie. Because for a girl who was raised Catholic, I way believe in karma. What goes around, comes around.

    One of my deep, deep philosophical theories when I was twentysomething was that everyone had to spend the afterlife with people who will treat you exactly the way you treated others. (That was probably grammatically incorrect, but my kids are howling so I can’t be bothered.) Closeness to death does not matter; the shit will come back to bite you.

    Although: I always said that if I made it to my 70s, I would spend most of my time on the porch rocker with my wrinkly old husband, smoking pot in a corncob pipe and swigging whiskey. (Give us something to look forward to.)

    Gretchen’s last blog post..DAMN.

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