Come to Brooklyn
I had an exceptionally difficult time writing yesterday’s post. This was not due to a mental block or anything of that nature, mind you; my Internet connection was very, very sluggish. I cannot count the number of times I lost copy-edits because my connection timed out. This was more than a little infuriating.
Is it just me or does it seem like every time some politician or self-proclaimed pundit wants to create a “hot button” issue it invariably involves the Internet. As Larry Flynt put it:
Opinions are like assholes, everybody has one.
In fact, I’d even go a step further and assert that the majority of opinions I read regarding the Internet are tendered by assholes, but I digress. Be it privacy, spyware, pornography, spam, blogs or online predators I have heard a litany of ‘experts’ pontificate about them all. Often.
Honestly, none of the previous subjects really move me. I do not like having to clean out my inbox several times each day because an army of online assholes is trying to sell me medications designed to pump up a pecker I do not possess (among many other things), but I have grown to accept it as an occupational hazard. What does disturb the living shit out of me, rather, is the fact that every fuckwit, half-wit and their damned dog has Internet access and has seen fit to block the information highway’s colon with semi-literate offal.
These people should not be allowed to have computers. Come to think of it, they should not be allowed to have telephones either. The only means of communication that should be made available to such people is either the U.S. Mail (so their 2nd Grade handwriting can be enjoyed by all) or the Jerry Springer Show. At least on the Jerry Springer show you get a couple of cat fights or a boob shot to wash down the pieces of human debris parading before you.
Case in point: the following is an actual email exchange between one of my friend’s neighbors (here in Greenpoint) and some other e-tard with one extra chromosome and way too much time on her hands. Apparently the woman was very proud of her repartee and wished to share this accomplishment with my friend. Uh-huh. Being the proud author of this turd is sort of like going to a battered women’s shelter to pick up chicks: both are more than a little pathetic.
Ghetto Trash: listen you ugly fat bitch stop talking to my boyfriend just b/c your man beats you doesn’t mean you have to talk to mine!!! peace
Greenpoint Trash: hahahahahahahahahah u are one crazy ass girl! dont hate the palyer hate the game hahahah your crazy!! oh and by the way i aint fat hahahahaha!! i look the bomb you got issues!!! hahahahahahahahahah
GT: actually you are fat… stay the fuck away from him, fattie peace out
GPT: listen mamacita, dont hate on me cause he was my man b4 he was yours!! hahaha i don’t want him, and im a grown ass woman, and he is a grown ass man and i will talk to whoever the fuck i wanna talk to, if you see me as such a threat come out to BROOKLYN where we kept it fucken gully and i could pound your ass out hahahahahaha your so corney! grown the fuck up!
GT: he even said you were fat and he felt bad 4 u b/c u liked him so he’d throw u the bone every once in awhile then he dumped your fat ass for someone who was actually hot so i really wouldn’t call him “your man” and talk to whoever the fuck u want just not him and bitch i would u up so fuckin bad
GPT: hahaha yooooooooo your really fucken psyco! take some medication! your like 4 feet shorter then me you little leprichaun!! ahaha i could step on you! and im not gonna say anything to incriminate saul because im smarter then you and what we talk about is between us! and what we had is between us!! thats why we were together for 4 1/2 years you dumb cunt rag! you need to check yourself! and yes i will keep talking to him just to piss your little leprichaun ass off! so fuck off!! come to brooklyn!!!!!!! come out here if your sooo rough and tough! hahah i will stomp you out! i dare you! your too pussy to come out here!
GT: have fun trying to talk to him when he blocked you.. listen stop talking to me i don’t associate with ugly people
“Come to Brooklyn” I like the ring of it!
The powers that be should integrate this masterpiece into the Brooklyn tourism ad campaign. I can see it now: an actor dressed like Walt Whitman recites the previous verse stoically while a video montage of cat fights and topless shots (featuring some of Kings County’s finest ladies, naturally) runs in the background. I can’t guarantee this will increase tourism, but you can rest assured you will have the viewer’s undivided attention.
Photo Credit: Miss Heather
Ghetto-ass Credit: The Stuporintendent of Miss Heather’s apartment building