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We Won't Get Rough (Unless You're Into That Sort of Thing)

By Sarina | Comment Diversions | December 2, 2009 | Comments ()


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Last week, I sent an email to Dustin with a suggestion for a Comment Diversion. I was in the midst of a feverish plague at the time and the email was pretty bonkers, but Dustin being Dustin, he just embraced the crazy and ran with it. He asked me, innocuously enough, if he could publish the email for the diversion ... and then the next thing I knew, that wily bastard had tricked me into writing the damn diversion myself. As many of you are no doubt well aware, I'm severely allergic to effort of any kind, so all you lovelies are getting outta me is this here intro to my crazycakes email.

from Sarina
to Dustin Rowles
date Tue, Nov 24, 2009 at 4:16 AM
subject Comment Diversion Suggestion (Request?)
mailed-by gmail.com

Hey,

I know Bucdaddy's been doing the comment diversions lately, but I don't have his email so there's no talking to him, which makes me your problem. Unless you choose to ignore me which, as always, is Option B. But anyway, I'd like to suggest a comment diversion which would be pretty simple, basically consisting of just asking lurkers -- like, especially the hardcore lurkers, who've been skulking and/or hulking in e-corners for a year or more -- to post. Something. Anything. In that very diversion. Don't wait, don't hesitate, Nike says Just Do It. I'm a little loopy on flu drugs right now (because I still have that damn swine flu with which my whore sister infected me) and I hope I'm making sense in between the accidental rhymes. Oooh, maybe you could even spice up the diversion with a Poorly Constructed Poem! Those are like tiny tot art projects; even when they're horrible people still think they're cute. You could make it a song! Set the Poorly Constructed Poem to music. Something catchy, that everybody knows. Then they can sing along to the Poorly Constructed Poeticism in their head, and it will be delightful (in the sense of terrible). I would suggest the tune of that old Playmate, Come Out and Play With Me song. You know, the one with the clapping routine? And some shit about apple trees and dolls and cellars and wow, those lyrics were way creepier than I realized as a child. Whatever. POINT IS, it'd be easy. See:

Hey Lurkers
Come out and play with me
Bring your creepy dollies three
And leave some comments please
Drink from our whiskey fountain
Slide down TK's cellar door
And we'll be jolly friends
Forever more more more

That could probably use some work, since I have the feeling if I were any less chemically intoxicated I'd find it a little shady, like we were trying to trick them into lining up so TK can make lampshades out of their skin. Which we're not (that they know of). It's just that Paheeba Day and the Twilight sparklespaz seem to have really bolstered up some of the lurker nerves and a few have poked their heads out of their dens. I'd like to drag (in a non-creepy manner) some of the more hesitant ones out. Because fresh meat is fun, and frankly some of the resident carcasses in our butcher shop have developed a stank to their asses. I know there are some toolsheds who would LOVE IT if people had to register and be approved to participate in the comments so they can cement their fantasies of some idiotic VIP lounge, but the majority opinion has always been that new people are fun and awesome and it's great how they shake things up every once in awhile. I think things could stand to get all shook up. Uh huh (yeah).

Wow. I'm sorry, I totally turned into Elvis for a second. Look, whatever you do, just don't post THIS as the comment diversion, because it's batshit insane and it'll drive all the new people away and we'll be stuck with nothing but Vermillion & BSlim's panting unresolved sexual tension and George yelling his head off. Not awesome.

I'm really filled with hate today, apparently.

- Sarina

So there you have it. Go forth and multiply! Right in this here column, because Nike really DOES say Just Do It. Nike also used to say some stuff about Bo Jackson knowing some shit, but I can't remember exactly what it was because I was eleven and a girl, so the hell did I care about Bo Jackson? I was way too busy trying to get my bangs to stand up straight on purpose (it was 1989, get off my back, hipsters!). Anyway, THE POINT IS, I would love it so much if every single person who somehow found the fortitude to keep reading up to this point and has never commented on the site before would de-lurk now. Right now. My swine flu has eased up considerably but I still have it, and I promise I'll cough on anyone who's mean to you in this here space. Now commence to commentin' or you'll break my cold, black heart.

Ready, steady, GO!



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