Written around 1:00 this morning.
A reminder of the rules: If you play fairly with me, I will play fairly with you. If you FUCK with me, however, I will hand you your head on a platter and kick your ass to the curb. As two beloved students said, “She’s a nice lady. Just DON’T piss her off.” (Thanks, Leesh & D. That quote forever endeared you to me because NO ONE ever, ever understood me so well.)
Today's pic comes from "Take My Siblings, Please," one of my favorite Animaniacs shorts. Yakko deals with the troll pretty damn effectively in the end. Nothing like a mallet to the head to tame a troll.
For March, the Empress is roaring in like a lion, and a troll has gone to the slaughter like a succulent bit of New Zealand lamb. Excuse me, dearest blurkers, whilst I laugh myself silly. Cackle, even (and we all know how dangerous it is when a witch starts cackling). Tonight, I have engaged in my absolute favorite intellectual sport of all, and one that I am so very, very, VERY good at: Troll Baiting.
And what, exactly, is troll baiting? Well, those of us who’ve been around the interwebs for a while and played on usenet and newgroups and forums and public figure Facebook pages are familiar with the inevitable, unavoidable internet parasite known as trollus publicus vulgaris, or the common internet troll, a hopeless, annoying asshole who feels they need to harsh someone else’s groove because they are a miserable, worthless person.
Now, occasionally, a normally decent, pleasant and good netizen will lapse into trollishness. It happens to the best of us—I’ve had my flame wars, especially during the Xanax Days of the month, when my hormones and rage took over my fingers, directly bypassing my brain and common sense. However, age, maturity and sheer laziness (because I honestly don’t give a righteous fuck these days unless someone starts shit that they really deserve the metaphorical Louisville Slugger to the head for) has brought me to the point where I usually stay out of it.
HOWEVER… sometimes the troll is so damned annoying and so deserving of a good kicking, I can’t help myself. Case in point: an incident over Jim Jefferies FB (he deleted the thread, sadly. A pity—there was actually a really good debate going on about netiquette, piracy and digital rights) back in Novemberish in which a troll reared his fugly head and declared to the world that henceforth, he would put every single thing Mr. J had committed to DVD out on the torrents because ART SHOULD BE FREE!
Now, I know there are several writers who check in here and scan my musings. I know there are a number of performing-type people who make their living from their own talent (or try to). There are a couple of people I have zero qualms about ripping off (the Mouldering Bones are at the top of the list) although I WON’T do it because ethics is ethics, dammit; HOWEVER, being a writer trying to get her shit published so she can quit the job she used to adore and now wants to bang the heads of most of her co-workers together, there is no way in hell you’re getting my shit for free (except this because, hey, this isn’t my novel—it may become a memoir, but you’re getting raw data, first draft, brain droppings). I’ve seen Jim Jefferies live twice—the guy works for his living and has a great deal of pride in his work. He deserves the money he makes from his shows and DVDs, and sorry, no, there is no argument that can justify piracy. I’ll agree that there needs to be a change in the delivery system for recordings, especially with the region coding that makes life a misery for those of us who get our entertainment from other places (unless you’ve been introduced to VLC, thank you, Chris & Stas), but for now… now, we need to suck it up and deal.
ANYWAY… the troll annoyed the piss out of me, and being me, I let him have it. And I was mean. I mean, seriously mean—I used logic and insinuation and mocked him openly for being an upper class twit, a trust fund baby who never had to work for a living (because it’s usually people who’ve never had to work for a living OR really retarded idealists who spew that bullshit; working class idiots like myself say, “FUCK YOU! PAY ME! I got bills, motherfucker, and I worked HARD to make this art!” which is why I don’t get Jackson Pollock. Sorry, it just ain’t art to me). Well, I hit a nerve so badly that not only did he freak publically, he sent me a PM, and from the language, I made him cry. (To be fair, he was not a trust fund baby but a drug-addled idealist musician who was making at least double what I make. I don't consider $80K a year to be chump change; so much for the Great Champion of Art For The People. Stooooopid troll.)
Do you know how hard it is to make an English man cry? Damn fucking near impossible without several pints, generally. (Sorry, that WAS mean, and only applies to the assholes who’ve broken my heart.) I laughed for a good hour. I was tickled. Cruel? Yeah, but this moron asked for it. And once in a while, we all need a kick in the arse. I try not to indulge in my more sadistic impulses--and I have a LOT of them--simply because I was raised right, and I can't walk on water unless someone points out the stepping stones. (That's another old chestnut that I love, corny as it is. Something about priest, minister and rabbi jokes always crack me up.)
When is it NOT appropriate to troll bait? Another example (again, Jim Jefferies's FB is involved. Sad, isn’t it?)—I blogged about it, the surreal experience of being taken to task by a woman VERY upset by a bit from I Swear to God about dwarves. Now, while I had ample openings to take free shots, it would have been ethically and humanly uncalled for. Just… just lousy and low on my part. This woman has dealt with prejudice all her life (and I know that one, albeit for different reasons); while she was totally off the mark at tearing down Jim, she didn’t deserve a drubbing by Number One Fan Bitch here. I tried to be as respectful as possible in my reply and be as professional as possible without enabling. I think I was successful.
So… as many of you know, I’ve been doing the internet dating thing for a while with limited success. To say I am unimpressed with the men I’m encountering is to vastly understate the situation. Well, I got a message over the weekend from someone with the handle Mikeneedslove. This alone should have been a flag. Where he was pinging from—same town one of my best friends lives in currently and wants out of desperately—should ALSO have been a warning flag. *sigh* Silly moi. Anyway, we exchanged a few emails via the website. He seemed nice. Note, I said SEEMED. Both of us (allegedly) looking for the same thing. Now, let’s be clear, folks—I am actually looking for a relationship. I don’t want to dive right into a commitment—I’d like there to be a couple of dates in there, a little fooling around before the fucking, some getting to know each other, perhaps a touch of romance… I mean, honestly, I’m not looking for Prince Charming. I’d be happy with a warrior for the working day. I’m just sick of the fucking frogs because honestly, it doesn’t matter how many times you kiss the slimy buggers—a frog is a fucking frog (and PLEASE don’t put in the tongue comment here—most of them don’t know how to use it properly, and a clit is NOT a fly, thanks).
The correspondence:
1. Hi i am mike how are u i read your profile u seem interseting email me by the way it says i dont want kids i do want kids
2. Yes i do want kids thanks for the eye compliment u are very beautifil so tell me about u what are u looking for? I am looking to meet the love of my life and have kids i am getting older and older now
3. like to play sports work out hang out with my nephew spend time with my family go to the beach write songs i am very creative i have wrote ten screen plays
4. I like all kinds of movies i just write songs use to play the drums in school u sound awesome and very sweet do u have a cell phone or is it to early
OK, now, I TRY, repeat TRY not judge a person by their written spelling/grammar skills. I TRY. I mean, I know a number of really intelligent, talented people who can't use a comma or spell certain words correctly to save their own lives. However... *sigh* So I gave him my number. Yeah, I know, stoooooooopid Empress.
I get a text message. I reply to it. He texts that he wants to leave me a voice mail so I can hear his voice. I’m cool with that; besides, I was just getting back to the house and had to wrangle groceries, laptop, satchel, coffee, etc. through the obstacle course that is Hell’s Vestibule. Totally cool. His voice sounds OK—bit husky, pleasant enough, touch of the Boston accent, and thankfully, doesn’t sound like the guy who missed the short bus because his mom didn’t put him out on the curb in time. (One of these days I will explain my issue with the Riders of the Short Bus—of course it has to do with my family. Why else would I have an issue with something?)
Well, I get a text from him this afternoon and replied before I left work. We text a bit. And then, I get this: [Note that texts are verbatim—I’m not editing his atrocious grammar, etc.]
8:00 p.m. (him) Yeah I like staying up at night wish I had someone to spend it with I hate being alone
Now, I’m trying to get out of the office. I’m thinking about the gym, the work I need to accomplish tonight, all the shit I have to deal with, so my response is innocent:
8:01 p.m. (me) Awwwwww. I’m ok with my own company, but it does get lonely. (And honestly, there’s only so much writing even I can do.)
The next texts from him:
10:00 p.m. Are u around?
10:20 p.m. U bought a drum set u won me lets talk do u think I got a sexy voice I can envision talking sexy with u
10:22 I want u to call me we could have a awesome talk
My phone rings around 10:55; I try to answer it, no one there. I text him asking if he tried to call. His response:
11:17 p.m. Do u want to talk do u think my voice is sexy
He calls. I can barely hear him the connection is so bad. I’m in the middle of dinner (a nice, healthy salad--spring mix, fresh mozz, tomatoes, bit of chicken--which he mocks—I mean, I’ve told him I’m working out regularly; why am I going to come home from the gym and pig on bad food?). Can’t understand the questions he’s asking. In retrospect, probably a good thing. The line goes dead.
11:22 p.m. (me) What happened?
11:22 p.m. (him) My phone died i am sorry
11:23 p.m. (him) Do u like to talk about sex
Question: If his phone died, how is he texting me? Yeah, I know, silly Empress, applying logic to a troll.
*headdesk* Yep, my nasty little suspicions were correct. *sigh*
11:24 (me) Errrrrmmmmmmmmmm… yes, but not until I know someone.
11:25 (him) Do I have a sexy voice I can pic me talking about sex with u
11:26: (me) Mike, no offense, but can you rein it in? We haven’t even met yet, I can’t picture anything.
Now, honestly, that’s a bold faced lie. If he had sufficiently enticed me, I could have pictured damned near anything, but I really hate someone faking me out—I hate being told a guy is looking for a relationship when he’s really just looking for a hook-up. This was not Rugby Boy—this was NOT an Adonis—this guy is an ordinary schlub who sounded decent enough to give a shot. Until now.
11:28: (him) Its cool i can picture u and i talking sex u have a sexy voic
11:30 (him) Are u horney though
11:41 (him) If i was to send u a pic of my thing down there would u mind
ARGH. *headdesk* Patience is now LOST. I have work to do, and no patience for some loser trying to get his wank on when I’ve said no.
11:47: (me) Yes, I already asked you to cool it down and you’re pushing. Lose my number.
End of story. I’m not investing time on someone who won’t respect my wishes. I’ve been date raped twice because I was nice; never again, kids.
11:48 (him) Ok whatever i will bye have a good night your number is gone
11:51 (him) Goodbye i don’t care i am a sexy guy with a sexy voice who can get anyone you look like u have a huge ass bush down there bye
WHAT THE FUCK IS AN ASS BUSH? I have never heard this insult before, and I am laughing out loud from it. Yep, gotta live ‘un! TROLL BAITING TIME! And the Empress takes out her barbed troll prod and pokes…
11:53 (me) Nope. You’re a pushy loser with zero respect. Ciao!
11:54 (him) Whatever i have a house and two suvs in my driveway but i am a loser
11:56 (him) U think i am a loser wow i have a lot you’re a fat ugly tramp with a big bushe bush down there
And now… now I am ROARING with laughter over my salad. I mean, seriously laughing out loud in the kitchen. My reply:
12:00 a.m. (me): This is going to make for such an awesome blog post. I haven’t had to deal with such an ignorant little troll in a dog’s age. I won’t give you phone sex and I’m a tramp? BRILLIANT! I’m sure you vote Republican, are a devout Christian, & drink heavily. You certainly can’t spell or punctuate. My readers are going to LOVE this, ditto my stand up. Thanks for the laughs!
I ain’t subtle. And he can’t say I didn’t warn him. But, oh, a troll is a troll is a troll is a troll. And yes, children, he replied. Stooooooopid troll:
12:01 (him) Well first of all i am not a catholic person i don’t care
12:03 (him) I am going to succeed i know u have a big ass bush
12:04 (him) [empty text]
12:05 (him) I am a genuine awesome guy not worthy off u
Yep, got THAT right!
12:11 (him) Why don’t u just go away
12:12 (him) Go away u have a huge ass bush
12:17 (him) U want to see my thing guaretee u would alo e me u have a huge bush
2:05 a.m. (him) Whatever lose my number u are ugly
Note, after my "troll" comment and warning about being the star of the blog today, I said nothing. And he KEPT TRYING. (Mind you, I was having a damn good laugh over on FB with some of you darling blurkers about this already.) Thankfully, the texts stopped after this. I am hoping the drunken idiot passed out. I am still grinning about this because I really ruined his night. He tried to manipulate me into something I didn’t want, I said no, he tried to berate me into it, and in the end, he was the one STILL trying to manipulate. I really love it when a troll thinks they’re smarter and just doesn’t get it.
It amuses me.
There was one barb I didn’t throw: I’m betting all of his (unsold) scripts are for bad porn.
Behave yourselves out there, kids.
Much love,
Empress
A reminder of the rules: If you play fairly with me, I will play fairly with you. If you FUCK with me, however, I will hand you your head on a platter and kick your ass to the curb. As two beloved students said, “She’s a nice lady. Just DON’T piss her off.” (Thanks, Leesh & D. That quote forever endeared you to me because NO ONE ever, ever understood me so well.)
Today's pic comes from "Take My Siblings, Please," one of my favorite Animaniacs shorts. Yakko deals with the troll pretty damn effectively in the end. Nothing like a mallet to the head to tame a troll.
For March, the Empress is roaring in like a lion, and a troll has gone to the slaughter like a succulent bit of New Zealand lamb. Excuse me, dearest blurkers, whilst I laugh myself silly. Cackle, even (and we all know how dangerous it is when a witch starts cackling). Tonight, I have engaged in my absolute favorite intellectual sport of all, and one that I am so very, very, VERY good at: Troll Baiting.
And what, exactly, is troll baiting? Well, those of us who’ve been around the interwebs for a while and played on usenet and newgroups and forums and public figure Facebook pages are familiar with the inevitable, unavoidable internet parasite known as trollus publicus vulgaris, or the common internet troll, a hopeless, annoying asshole who feels they need to harsh someone else’s groove because they are a miserable, worthless person.
Now, occasionally, a normally decent, pleasant and good netizen will lapse into trollishness. It happens to the best of us—I’ve had my flame wars, especially during the Xanax Days of the month, when my hormones and rage took over my fingers, directly bypassing my brain and common sense. However, age, maturity and sheer laziness (because I honestly don’t give a righteous fuck these days unless someone starts shit that they really deserve the metaphorical Louisville Slugger to the head for) has brought me to the point where I usually stay out of it.
HOWEVER… sometimes the troll is so damned annoying and so deserving of a good kicking, I can’t help myself. Case in point: an incident over Jim Jefferies FB (he deleted the thread, sadly. A pity—there was actually a really good debate going on about netiquette, piracy and digital rights) back in Novemberish in which a troll reared his fugly head and declared to the world that henceforth, he would put every single thing Mr. J had committed to DVD out on the torrents because ART SHOULD BE FREE!
Now, I know there are several writers who check in here and scan my musings. I know there are a number of performing-type people who make their living from their own talent (or try to). There are a couple of people I have zero qualms about ripping off (the Mouldering Bones are at the top of the list) although I WON’T do it because ethics is ethics, dammit; HOWEVER, being a writer trying to get her shit published so she can quit the job she used to adore and now wants to bang the heads of most of her co-workers together, there is no way in hell you’re getting my shit for free (except this because, hey, this isn’t my novel—it may become a memoir, but you’re getting raw data, first draft, brain droppings). I’ve seen Jim Jefferies live twice—the guy works for his living and has a great deal of pride in his work. He deserves the money he makes from his shows and DVDs, and sorry, no, there is no argument that can justify piracy. I’ll agree that there needs to be a change in the delivery system for recordings, especially with the region coding that makes life a misery for those of us who get our entertainment from other places (unless you’ve been introduced to VLC, thank you, Chris & Stas), but for now… now, we need to suck it up and deal.
ANYWAY… the troll annoyed the piss out of me, and being me, I let him have it. And I was mean. I mean, seriously mean—I used logic and insinuation and mocked him openly for being an upper class twit, a trust fund baby who never had to work for a living (because it’s usually people who’ve never had to work for a living OR really retarded idealists who spew that bullshit; working class idiots like myself say, “FUCK YOU! PAY ME! I got bills, motherfucker, and I worked HARD to make this art!” which is why I don’t get Jackson Pollock. Sorry, it just ain’t art to me). Well, I hit a nerve so badly that not only did he freak publically, he sent me a PM, and from the language, I made him cry. (To be fair, he was not a trust fund baby but a drug-addled idealist musician who was making at least double what I make. I don't consider $80K a year to be chump change; so much for the Great Champion of Art For The People. Stooooopid troll.)
Do you know how hard it is to make an English man cry? Damn fucking near impossible without several pints, generally. (Sorry, that WAS mean, and only applies to the assholes who’ve broken my heart.) I laughed for a good hour. I was tickled. Cruel? Yeah, but this moron asked for it. And once in a while, we all need a kick in the arse. I try not to indulge in my more sadistic impulses--and I have a LOT of them--simply because I was raised right, and I can't walk on water unless someone points out the stepping stones. (That's another old chestnut that I love, corny as it is. Something about priest, minister and rabbi jokes always crack me up.)
When is it NOT appropriate to troll bait? Another example (again, Jim Jefferies's FB is involved. Sad, isn’t it?)—I blogged about it, the surreal experience of being taken to task by a woman VERY upset by a bit from I Swear to God about dwarves. Now, while I had ample openings to take free shots, it would have been ethically and humanly uncalled for. Just… just lousy and low on my part. This woman has dealt with prejudice all her life (and I know that one, albeit for different reasons); while she was totally off the mark at tearing down Jim, she didn’t deserve a drubbing by Number One Fan Bitch here. I tried to be as respectful as possible in my reply and be as professional as possible without enabling. I think I was successful.
So… as many of you know, I’ve been doing the internet dating thing for a while with limited success. To say I am unimpressed with the men I’m encountering is to vastly understate the situation. Well, I got a message over the weekend from someone with the handle Mikeneedslove. This alone should have been a flag. Where he was pinging from—same town one of my best friends lives in currently and wants out of desperately—should ALSO have been a warning flag. *sigh* Silly moi. Anyway, we exchanged a few emails via the website. He seemed nice. Note, I said SEEMED. Both of us (allegedly) looking for the same thing. Now, let’s be clear, folks—I am actually looking for a relationship. I don’t want to dive right into a commitment—I’d like there to be a couple of dates in there, a little fooling around before the fucking, some getting to know each other, perhaps a touch of romance… I mean, honestly, I’m not looking for Prince Charming. I’d be happy with a warrior for the working day. I’m just sick of the fucking frogs because honestly, it doesn’t matter how many times you kiss the slimy buggers—a frog is a fucking frog (and PLEASE don’t put in the tongue comment here—most of them don’t know how to use it properly, and a clit is NOT a fly, thanks).
The correspondence:
1. Hi i am mike how are u i read your profile u seem interseting email me by the way it says i dont want kids i do want kids
2. Yes i do want kids thanks for the eye compliment u are very beautifil so tell me about u what are u looking for? I am looking to meet the love of my life and have kids i am getting older and older now
3. like to play sports work out hang out with my nephew spend time with my family go to the beach write songs i am very creative i have wrote ten screen plays
4. I like all kinds of movies i just write songs use to play the drums in school u sound awesome and very sweet do u have a cell phone or is it to early
OK, now, I TRY, repeat TRY not judge a person by their written spelling/grammar skills. I TRY. I mean, I know a number of really intelligent, talented people who can't use a comma or spell certain words correctly to save their own lives. However... *sigh* So I gave him my number. Yeah, I know, stoooooooopid Empress.
I get a text message. I reply to it. He texts that he wants to leave me a voice mail so I can hear his voice. I’m cool with that; besides, I was just getting back to the house and had to wrangle groceries, laptop, satchel, coffee, etc. through the obstacle course that is Hell’s Vestibule. Totally cool. His voice sounds OK—bit husky, pleasant enough, touch of the Boston accent, and thankfully, doesn’t sound like the guy who missed the short bus because his mom didn’t put him out on the curb in time. (One of these days I will explain my issue with the Riders of the Short Bus—of course it has to do with my family. Why else would I have an issue with something?)
Well, I get a text from him this afternoon and replied before I left work. We text a bit. And then, I get this: [Note that texts are verbatim—I’m not editing his atrocious grammar, etc.]
8:00 p.m. (him) Yeah I like staying up at night wish I had someone to spend it with I hate being alone
Now, I’m trying to get out of the office. I’m thinking about the gym, the work I need to accomplish tonight, all the shit I have to deal with, so my response is innocent:
8:01 p.m. (me) Awwwwww. I’m ok with my own company, but it does get lonely. (And honestly, there’s only so much writing even I can do.)
The next texts from him:
10:00 p.m. Are u around?
10:20 p.m. U bought a drum set u won me lets talk do u think I got a sexy voice I can envision talking sexy with u
10:22 I want u to call me we could have a awesome talk
My phone rings around 10:55; I try to answer it, no one there. I text him asking if he tried to call. His response:
11:17 p.m. Do u want to talk do u think my voice is sexy
He calls. I can barely hear him the connection is so bad. I’m in the middle of dinner (a nice, healthy salad--spring mix, fresh mozz, tomatoes, bit of chicken--which he mocks—I mean, I’ve told him I’m working out regularly; why am I going to come home from the gym and pig on bad food?). Can’t understand the questions he’s asking. In retrospect, probably a good thing. The line goes dead.
11:22 p.m. (me) What happened?
11:22 p.m. (him) My phone died i am sorry
11:23 p.m. (him) Do u like to talk about sex
Question: If his phone died, how is he texting me? Yeah, I know, silly Empress, applying logic to a troll.
*headdesk* Yep, my nasty little suspicions were correct. *sigh*
11:24 (me) Errrrrmmmmmmmmmm… yes, but not until I know someone.
11:25 (him) Do I have a sexy voice I can pic me talking about sex with u
11:26: (me) Mike, no offense, but can you rein it in? We haven’t even met yet, I can’t picture anything.
Now, honestly, that’s a bold faced lie. If he had sufficiently enticed me, I could have pictured damned near anything, but I really hate someone faking me out—I hate being told a guy is looking for a relationship when he’s really just looking for a hook-up. This was not Rugby Boy—this was NOT an Adonis—this guy is an ordinary schlub who sounded decent enough to give a shot. Until now.
11:28: (him) Its cool i can picture u and i talking sex u have a sexy voic
11:30 (him) Are u horney though
11:41 (him) If i was to send u a pic of my thing down there would u mind
ARGH. *headdesk* Patience is now LOST. I have work to do, and no patience for some loser trying to get his wank on when I’ve said no.
11:47: (me) Yes, I already asked you to cool it down and you’re pushing. Lose my number.
End of story. I’m not investing time on someone who won’t respect my wishes. I’ve been date raped twice because I was nice; never again, kids.
11:48 (him) Ok whatever i will bye have a good night your number is gone
11:51 (him) Goodbye i don’t care i am a sexy guy with a sexy voice who can get anyone you look like u have a huge ass bush down there bye
WHAT THE FUCK IS AN ASS BUSH? I have never heard this insult before, and I am laughing out loud from it. Yep, gotta live ‘un! TROLL BAITING TIME! And the Empress takes out her barbed troll prod and pokes…
11:53 (me) Nope. You’re a pushy loser with zero respect. Ciao!
11:54 (him) Whatever i have a house and two suvs in my driveway but i am a loser
11:56 (him) U think i am a loser wow i have a lot you’re a fat ugly tramp with a big bushe bush down there
And now… now I am ROARING with laughter over my salad. I mean, seriously laughing out loud in the kitchen. My reply:
12:00 a.m. (me): This is going to make for such an awesome blog post. I haven’t had to deal with such an ignorant little troll in a dog’s age. I won’t give you phone sex and I’m a tramp? BRILLIANT! I’m sure you vote Republican, are a devout Christian, & drink heavily. You certainly can’t spell or punctuate. My readers are going to LOVE this, ditto my stand up. Thanks for the laughs!
I ain’t subtle. And he can’t say I didn’t warn him. But, oh, a troll is a troll is a troll is a troll. And yes, children, he replied. Stooooooopid troll:
12:01 (him) Well first of all i am not a catholic person i don’t care
12:03 (him) I am going to succeed i know u have a big ass bush
12:04 (him) [empty text]
12:05 (him) I am a genuine awesome guy not worthy off u
Yep, got THAT right!
12:11 (him) Why don’t u just go away
12:12 (him) Go away u have a huge ass bush
12:17 (him) U want to see my thing guaretee u would alo e me u have a huge bush
2:05 a.m. (him) Whatever lose my number u are ugly
Note, after my "troll" comment and warning about being the star of the blog today, I said nothing. And he KEPT TRYING. (Mind you, I was having a damn good laugh over on FB with some of you darling blurkers about this already.) Thankfully, the texts stopped after this. I am hoping the drunken idiot passed out. I am still grinning about this because I really ruined his night. He tried to manipulate me into something I didn’t want, I said no, he tried to berate me into it, and in the end, he was the one STILL trying to manipulate. I really love it when a troll thinks they’re smarter and just doesn’t get it.
It amuses me.
There was one barb I didn’t throw: I’m betting all of his (unsold) scripts are for bad porn.
Behave yourselves out there, kids.
Much love,
Empress
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