“HOW IS MOCKING MY WIFE AND HER TERMINAL HEALTH CONDITION ANY DIFFERENT OR BETTER THAN MY FOLLOWING THROUGH WITH AGGRESSIVE REPORTING ON LEE STRANAHAN’S TRAGIC LOSS?”
Well, here’s one difference…what you did was ostensibly to make you feel like you had a job and were doing WORK.
I’m only doing it for FUN.
All I have is FUN.
But, for the sake of discussion, let me stipulate to the idea that it is no different. Not in the slightest bit is it any different.
Does that make you feel better?
How about if I promise, cross my rotting black heart and hope to un-die, that in two years, after you and She Who Shall Not Be Named are long gone and forgotten (the Good Lord willing and the creek don’t rise), I write a dozen or so squishy and meaningless here’s-my-excuse-isn’t-it-a-good-one non-apology apologies just like you?
Will THAT make you feel better?
That’s what I’ll do.
P.S. If you have a problem with my blog, I have a simple solution for you. Stop reading it. If you’re addicted to it, you can always gouge your eyes out. That’ll fix it.
P.P.S. Of course all promises here at Thinking Man’s Zombie come guaranteed to be no more sincere or enforceable than the promise of a demented cyberstalking freak to leave Twitter. So I got that going for me. Which is nice.
UPDATE – for you Zombies, that P.S. is a near word-for-word reproduction of a comment that the Emperor of Overshares left a few days ago in reply to someone’s reaction to one of his blog posts. So, you know…fuck him if he can’t live up to his own rules.
On a related note, after I stipulate that what I do for FUN! is just the same as what he did to the Stranahan’s, he wants to say what I do is evil?
I’m fine with that. If the ramifications of that admission escape him, THAT’S NOT MY PROBLEM.
You see, the REAL difference between what he does and what I do is this: I DELETE NOTHING. I CAME INTO THIS WITH EYES WIDE OPEN, AND I AM IN IT TO THE END. I DON’T PISS AND MOAN, I DON’T WHINE LIKE A LITTLE GIRL, AND I SURE AS HELL DON’T PRETEND TO FEEEEEL BAD WHEN I HAVE TO DELETE ENTIRE BLOGS TO COVER MY ASS BECAUSE OOPSIE POOPSIE. NO, I DECIDED TO COVER MY ASS ON DAY ONE, SO I COULD SAY WHAT I’M GOING TO SAY. YOU’LL CALL THAT COWARDICE, BUT I CALL IT BATTLEFIELD PREPARATION.
And if you don’t like it, well fuck you some more. Go cry in your fucking FroYo, you goddamn weakling.