You’ve been warned
If you’re reading this blog entry, you are obligated to click the “Comments” link down below and leave a comment. I think you’ll find that it’s not too difficult, and actually can be quite a rewarding experience!
If you’re not reading this blog entry, then I can make scathing remarks about you and you probably won’t care. Well I suppose you might, if you had read it previously, and then at some point you remembered what I had said about people that weren’t reading this blog entry, and since you fit into that category at that particular time you realized that the comments applied to you. And then the next time I talked to you you would say, “Jared, you made me cry.” And then I would feel bad.
Unless, of course they were tears of joy. Then I wouldn’t feel so bad.
Unless I hated you. Then I’d probably be more irritated than anything else.
Unless you had a cold, cold heart, and feeling joy caused you great physical pain. Then I would cackle with delight!
Unless you were a masochist, and you enjoyed it. How irksome.
Unless you were publicly chastised for your deviant sexual behavior. In which case I would revel in your humiliation.
Unless it turned out that a majority of Americans support masochism, and you used your newfound public acclaim to run for political office and you won. Then I would shake my fist at the ceiling and curse.
Unless that public office was titled “Head Dick,” and didn’t come with any real executive power, but the only duty was to be the subject of public ridicule and mordacious political commentaries. That would be funny.
Unless somehow by being such a good sport you managed to have a strange relationship with the public, where you were loathsome but somehow also endearing, and so you got invited to lots of parties and fundraisers, and turned out to be quite popular. Then I would throw my hat onto the ground and stomp on it in frustration.
Unless you gained a reputation among your new “friends” that at these parties you had a tendency to pretend you knew a lot about things that you actually didn’t know thing one about, and so you came across as being kind of stupid and they made fun of you a lot behind your back. That would be oh so sweet.
Unless you never found out that they didn’t like you, because ignorance is bliss. Then my plot would be foiled.
Unless you were SO ignorant that you couldn’t tie your own shoe. This would bring me great satisfaction.
Unless you had those weird basketball shoes with no laces. Then I would scream and rip my hair out of my scalp.
Unless these shoes were extremely uncomfortable and gave you big, painful, unsightly corns on your feet. That would be awesome.
Unless you went to see a really hot pediatrist, and you ended up sleeping with him/her. That would piss me off!
Unless the pediatrist gave you a scorching case of herpes. Then I would be happy.
Unless what really happened was, you were supposed to go out with the pediatrist, but your twin brother/sister answered the door, and then decided to pretend they were you and went and banged the pediatrist and contracted herpes, and you saw it as poetic justice for having stolen your date away from you. This would aggravate me to no end!
Unless I hated your twin brother/sister even more than I hated you. Then it would be ok I guess.
… But I digress. Leave comments!