The SIB sat neglected last week because it was filled to brimming with junk mail from providers, so there was a plethora of choices for 41st edition of the M3 Friday Follies. Put your drink out of reach. It is time to open the stupidest inbox in the blogosphere.
I adore when hatemailers command this level of stranglehold on the mother tongue. It kinda reminds me of pink marabou handcuffs: All fluff, no action. Meet contestant number one: Sara.
Hatemailing from Massachusetts, Sara took issue with, of all things, Where have you been? What could be her problem with an update on your missing non-spambot captain? Behold.
How stupid it is to collorate on a mytery book? What’re you gunna do, have somebody write the answer for you. Are you too stupid to figure out who dun it?”
This level of cranial concavity made me laugh hard enough to coffee spray the screen. Many apologies to my laptop for the sticky sweet bath. As an apology, I penned the following:
You know, the doctors and the coroner all gave me this massive amount of paperwork telling me all the same thing the death certificate did. You really don’t think I should take their word for it, do you?”
Here’s your dunce cap.
Gender Confused Sex Offender?
Mantra took a beating over last week’s poem I See You. In what appears to be the thousandth case of reading nothing beyond the title/first stanza, enter contestant number two: Ellen.
In a hatemail from Pennsylvania, Ellen was convinced I, nor Mantra, was certainly not who I claim to be. Read. Disbelieve. I did.
I am going to report you to the sex offender registry. Perverts like you need to be locked away forever and castrated. [Redacted something unintelligible about bribing magistrates.] Lascivious, lecherous old peeping men like you are what is wrong with society. Pervert.”
Yes, dearest M3 Readers, we got one who can spell. She may not be able to read or write coherently based on the compromised comprehension level, but let’s give it a whirl.
I will have you know, when they castrated me, I went for the whole package. Every pervert’s dream is to become a lesbian. I am living the dream, miss. So, where do you live, exactly?
I think she needs gender sensitivity training.
A Hanging Offense
One day in an awards show I will reveal my connections to Judge Roy Bean, but in the meantime, let’s take a minute to hear from Gerard. Hatemailing from California, he seemed to have a problem with Carrie and her man friend. Meet contestant number three.
Nobody got them corded phones no more. Bet it is something as simple as she burned the food. Back in them days you could do that if you [expletive] didnt do her wifely dutys. whered you steal this story. Bet the book is good.”
Yes, I wanted a shower after this one. Pen me a response for Gerard, as I am certain his prison does not have GoDaddy service.
Liar! Liar! Hee-haw!
We all know, with truth as a search term around here, there are only around 15 posts on the subject, so it stands perfectly to reason someone would hatemail about the single most-hated post on M3. I quit counting the number of comments I have deleted on this particular post about 30 comments ago. I blamed the renewed response to it on last week’s Friday Follies and yesterday’s post, Quarters & Change.
Enter our fourth contestant, Kaffre. Hatemailing from Turkey, he seems to have a problem with the truth and my lineage, compliments of Google Translate.
You know no truth when you have secrets. Must profess all secrets not eat the soul. Only donkey not tell truth of secret.”
This makes the 18th language to call me a jackass.
Not Our Fault!
Our fifth contestant tonight hatemails from the United Kingdom. With an apparent umbrage to Almost There, Wendell stopped in the SIB with this gem:
What a crock! Nobody intentionally fails. Failure is caused by all the incompetent firends and family who want to help but have no idea what they are doing. It comes from taking the advise of people we trust to give us good advise. When that advise turns out to be dreck, it is not our fault we fail. What so you think is gained by telling people to chose to succeed? Failure is not our fault so how can we chose not to fail.”
Oh, Wendell, buckle up. Let’s get interactive.
With your apparent proficiency in transference, I believe you are truly convinced you do no wrong. It begs the question, was it your parents who sabotaged you when they had sex or is it merely everyone subsequent to your birth who have repressed you?
You absolutely must tell me more. I was unaware Kool-Aid was sold in your country. Do you belong to a group or are you an independent? Do you celebrate your failures as rites of passage. I am always intrigued by new movements.
I am just curious, which member of the Royal family are you, exactly? There are many named Wendell, however, I am unable to trace you to the Royal “we”. I was under the impression Buckingham had a department to ensure failure was not suffered by the Royal family. Do enlighten me because, as an American, I am quite handicapped in the complete system the Royal family uses to gauge both success and failure.
What shall we send Wendell?
It what I consider a nauseating turn of events, I have been diagnosed by a hatemailer. You see, my problem was apparent to a woman from New Mexico. Clarice hatemails to say:
If you were reading something brilliant like the Twilight series or the Harry Potter books maybe someone would be able to understand what the [expletive] you are trying to say.”
I guess she told me. Aren’t you glad you have someone looking out for your literary experience? Got something to say to Clarice?
I hope your week has been free of hatemail, illiteracy, secrets, Royals and sex offenders. Thank you for joining me for the 41st edition of the M3 Friday Follies from the stupidest inbox in the blogosphere! I hope your weekend is off to a terrific start.
What shall we tell Gerard, Clarice and Kaffre? Which response shall we send to Wendell? This is your opportunity to talk back!
(c) Red Dwyer 2012
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