Scream

Every day, I sit down to write something here.

Every day, I think of the awesome people who read here who might sympathize, empathize or maybe even benefit from my stories.

Who might provide a laugh even if it really isn’t funny. Who would nod and say, I enjoyed reading that, thanks.

I miss those early days of Ye Olde Bloge. And Ye Olde IRC Chatroom and MySpace and wherever else I had friends.

Then I think of the freaks who don’t have an idea of their own so they come here for something to write about as their own on some other medium.

Because without me, they are nothing. Even with me.

I mean, it makes sense. I say things that they don’t know at their advanced age, like maybe don’t announce to the world that the protector of the house is out of town or how about don’t say shit meant to insult me when there are other people out there who are taking that insult personally because you can’t think past the end of that schnoz on your puss.

In any event, my heart is with Gabby Petito’s mom as the dumb fuck Moab cops release a statement that they should have arrested Gabby and maybe this could have all been avoided. (ARREST THAT TINY, SWEET GIRL FOR WHAT.)

It’s also with the parents of Stanley Davis III who was killed at an intersection by my house. A fucking Braddock Beach cop who’s been involved in now THREE incidents like this chased this poor kid up the street and now he’s dead. And, um, where is the body camera footage?

I have been arguing with some dumb Karen on our local rag page on Facebook because she thinks Stanley’s parents should be charged. With what, another shitty cop killing another black child? I’m like how about an ounce of compassion for yet another family who has to go to bed tonight without their baby? She told me it’s time for me to shut up. Oh HELL no.

All you miserable fuckers who have nothing good to say to or about me can seriously go be useless somewhere else.

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