When I read someone’s blog, I want to comment to form a connection with them. But then when I see that there are already plenty of comments, it makes me not want to comment anymore. I feel like I would only be one of many people who already commented and that it would pretty much make no difference whether I comment or not. I like it more when I’m the sole person doing something. I want to be special. But I’m not. Oh, maybe that’s why I want to be someone’s significant other. I didn’t think I was going to discover something about myself with this little post.
So… I released a game last week. It’s just a limited release and got over 50k views in a week, blah blah blah. It’s not wildly successful or anything, but it’s nothing to scoff at either. Going in, I knew that the world was full of stupid people but it seems I couldn’t predict how stupid people can get. Stupidity truly knows no bounds. There are a lot of haters who’ll just hate shit for no reason. They’re annoying, but they don’t really bother me much. Haters are like farts. Like a douchebag passing by and farting a cloud in your face. As much as it sucks, it goes away in a few moments. But then there are assholes that are made of pure hate. Unlike haters and their farts, these assholes take a full shit in your house and you have to go out of your way to clean that shit up. Sure, you can ignore the shit and just wait for it to decompose into dust, but that’s not very good. …I’m not sure if the analogy holds up at this point. I also don’t know why I always use shit in my analogies.
Anyway, I encountered a giant asshole today. Right off the bat, the site seemed a little off. Most places probably have less than 10% assholes and the rest of humanity is usually surprisingly pleasant. This site seemed to have at least 90% asshole. I’m slowly putting the pieces together and it kind of makes sense. The site specializes in finding web games, creating cheats for them, and posting the game on their site with the cheats. The staff seems to have the decency to keep my ads within the game, so they’re not “stealing” anything from me. But then I should’ve realized that players who seek out cheats for games have no integrity and that carries over to all aspects of life.
I try to respond to every comment. Whenever I comment, I always want someone to respond to them and I felt like I should deliver that to as many people as possible. If I didn’t care about people reading my comment, then I wouldn’t make the comment at all. If the comment is a little shitty, I still try to respond positively, giving the person the benefit of the doubt. If a comment is really shitty, I just ignore them because I know people are retarded and there’s no point in engaging them. However, one particular comment stuck out to me a little. I could easily just ignore it, but I felt like pissing him off for fun. I can easily detach myself conversation and maybe the drama will draw some people in. Bad publicity is good publicity and all that jazz, you know?
This is the first comment that caught my attention:
Damn tedgaming, are you of such low self esteem that all you have is the desire to troll your a$$ off and making weird almost nonsensical comments towards anyone and everyone? Dude we get it, you “made” this game, and you think it’s top notch.
I responded with this:
What kind of imbecilic retard reads comments and then complains that there are comments? I’m making sure that the game’s working and offering info about the game. Wtf are you doing here? Are you of such feeble mind that you need to female dog about dust?
That last line was a product of the site’s censorship. It was supposed to be “bitch about shit” instead of “female dog about dust”. His response is:
I guess I rest my case. At no time in your incoherent ramblings did you make any sort of sense. Are you Drunk? Drugging? Both? Just do us all a favor and crawl back in that dark hole you call a home, and STFU. Thanks for shopping, bye-bye now…
I respond with: (I hate these I respond, he respond lines, lol.)
I’m sorry that you lack the ability to comprehend logic and simple censorship.
Just giving u the FYI, it seems that the only person alive that will listen 2 u is urself. I guess marveling @ your own magnificent’s knows no bounds it will continues till one day you realize that ur the only 1 around who will believe ur own bs
Then I said:
If I were a troll, then I would’ve succeeded in trolling you. Touche to you for trolling me too. I don’t get how you can be so blind to that.
He just wrote another response but it’s riddled with grammatical errors and nonsense. I think I broke him. Oh, and I forgot to mention the weirdest part of this. The first comment I quoted was actually this guy’s 2nd comment to my game. His first comment was:
This is a pretty good game. I do like the blood gore, especially when u do headshots or using ur grenades. IDK if it’s ppl’s setup, maybe the reason ppl r having probs w/loading is their web browser. Firefox, or I.E seems 2 b crap w/Larger games.
I expected his kind of behavior from someone who didn’t like the game, but this guy just seems like a total mess. I’m bored with him now. If he tries to instigate shit again and it’s amusing, then I’ll write another blog post about it. He probably won’t be very amusing though.
When I wrote about my dumbassery (part one), I mentioned that there was another topic I wanted to write about and this is it, coming to you several days later. I had a few ideas but I had not written them because I couldn’t find the best words to write them in. I still haven’t found the words yet but I’m going to write it out anyway since I’m trying to kill some time. I have too much time this morning because I woke up at 5am to the sound of fuckin birds. Fuckin birds… (It’s times like these that the distinction between fuckin and fucking actually matters.) I’ve already masturbated so I shall proceed with my mental masturbation, blogging. I am a truly masturbatory being.
Lately, I’ve been blogging a lot more than usual and it might seem like I’m opening up more. But in actuality, I’m getting more secluded because of the blog. When my friends ask me how I’ve been, I just want to refer them to the blog because I already wrote about it but my friends don’t like reading so it pretty much just ends all conversations. And what do I get in return? I’m writing for an audience of 17 people, probably only 5 of which will actually read my new posts, and these people aren’t even part of my life. Sorry reader, I have a tendency to antagonize you.
Being depressed and suicidal makes me not want nor need anything. I don’t need to hang out with friends cause they can’t cheer me up. I don’t need luxury items because they’re just wasted on me. I don’t even need to eat most of the time because I don’t need to live. Do I need to live? I didn’t think so. It took me awhile to realize that I actually do need to live, but only because of the definition of the word “need”. A necessity or need is something that is required to live. So by definition, I do need to live; I just don’t want to. It would be like saying blue jeans aren’t blue. Yeah, I know, semantics can be a mind fucker.
Ever since I wrote the entry on my sexuality, I’ve thought about it some more. I find that I’m attracted to lesbians more than straight girls. But of course, I’m attracted to the girly lesbians and not the butch ones. I’m like a butch lesbian… so butch that I even have a penis. There ought to be a term for a heterosexual who’s attracted specifically to homosexuals of the opposite gender. Oh I know, it’s called retardation.
…”Retardation” is the punchline but I’m not too fond of it. I couldn’t think of a better term that’s concise and funny. Other terms I’ve thought up include: self-defeating sexual retardation, fucktard, retardedsexuality, and he-s-retard-ed-sexuality. If you can think of a better one, write a comment for it. I don’t have any prizes to give but I can approve of your wit and humor. It’s sad how my two cents is literally worth less than two pennies.
My stupid brain decided to not let me fall asleep so I’m going to write this comment topic that I put off for almost a week. I wonder if my anonymous follower is still following this blog. I don’t think this entry is going to be too long but we’ll see. This entry is also not going to be comedy-driven. However, I like to think that everything I write is funny and interesting and since no one has told me otherwise, I’m going to keep assuming that it’s true.
I’ve always been a pretty depressed person. On my extra depressed days, childhood is actually a topic I spend a lot of time thinking about. I analyze how screwed up my life is, how much of it is my fault, and then I think about how many of my flaws are rooted in me from my childhood. It turns out that I can blame my parents for everything. Although I’ve thought about this topic a lot, it’s one of those things that you think about a lot but the thoughts aren’t necessarily cohesive and doesn’t translate well into written form. I will be trying my best to cover the key points.
First I will write about my cheapness. I’m so cheap to the point that it should be diagnosed as an illness. Everytime I eat out, it pains me to know they profit off me. On a regular basis, my spending is asymptotic to zero. I’ve been this way all my life because it’s the way I was raised. Although it’s obviously problematic, I’m going to go ahead and elaborate on some of the ways my cheapness screws with me. Well, the obvious one would be spending money on dating and meeting girls. You need to understand a cheap mindset to know that basically my cheapness means zero dating. Simply leaving the house costs money for transportation so every outing starts off with ridiculously high expectations because I’m spending “so much money” that it better be worth it. “So much money” is relative to zero of course, so any amount of spending is a lot. This relates to childhood because both the transportation and food thing are things that my parents have nailed into my head again and again, even to this day. The biggest problem with this cheapness in combination with depression is that if I don’t really need to spend any money, why bother working to make money.
The other big issue is raising children when it is appropriate to speak. I was raised to make as little noise as possible. My parents took the easy (but bad) route. Basically, if I never say anything, I’ll never say anything wrong. However, this is obviously the wrong way to raise a child because I’ve never said anything to any of my relatives (including my parents) and therefore never formed any connection with them. I care about them less than someone I just met and have a good 5 minute conversation with like the milf in the last entry. Not only that, but I also severely lack conversational and other social skills because of this. This way of being raised is so wrong because I’m essentially a pet brick who greets people on command. That is no way to raise a human.
All I do is point out how bad my parents were at parenting but I’ve got no solution. That’s my biggest hesitation to having a child, not that any girl wants to have my child mind you. Although I’m extremely cynical, hateful, narcissistic, depressed, and suicidal, I think I turned out okay, intellectually. Maybe I don’t give my parents enough credit. At the cost of all forms of happiness, at least I can do math and write a fucking blog.