Wednesday, February 24, 2016

Question: I want you to do something for me. I want you to stop writing this blog. Got that?

Is this the mafia? Maybe it's just me, but it sounds like the mafia.


I don't want my cyber-knees broken, and I sure have no desire to sleep with the phishes, so I guess I'd better comply.


It was fun while it lasted, I suppose.


No. This can't be right. The mafia wouldn't ask me to stop. They don't go into a store and say, 'Hey, stop being a store.' They probably just want a cut. A little strong-arm tactics, eh? I get it now.


Here's your cut of the zero dollars I make writing this blog. You can just reach for the screen and the nothing dollars will appear in your hand like magic.


And if this isn't the mafia and you just don't like reading my blog, you can reach out and grasp a big handful of go somewhere else on the giant internet you fucking dumbass.


Short Answer: All I got is herpes and very little disposable income. So you're the one who's a loser. Or something.

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