ENCYCLOPEDIADRAMATICA DEAD!?

Oh, lulz, what hath ye wrought?


Today, I was horrified when I tried to go the website known as Encyclopediadramatica.com, and was redirected to some random vomit-inducing version that wallows in the manure of political correctness. When did we come to the stipulation that being off-the-wall offensive and unreadable was no longer going to be supported? When did ED go from being absolutely decadent to absolutely decedent?

I wish I could produce a touching montage of all the moments ED and I shared throughout the years, because yes, while growing out my neckbeard and sitting in my mom's basement, growing jabba-like on hot pockets, in between bouts of completely unprovoked trolling on poor innocent souls, I would gander at the beautifully scripted and angelically poetic writings of all those who contributed to what can only be described as a "clusterfuck of wtf and stfu faggot", I laughed. I laughed at all the jokes. I, for one, was touched (inappropriately) by this now-deceased bastion of trolling goodness, and it brings a black emo tear down the side of my milk-white face. Even as I type these horrifically tragic words onto my world-famous blog that everyone reads, I am blasting Hawthorne Heights, and looking apathetically at my bleeding wrists, which I cut with a razor. It's the only way I can feel anything anymore.

From ED, I learned many things about myself. I learned that misanthropy can be hilarious. I learned that Long-Cat is really long. I learned that drawing pictures of half-snake half-human people who are part male and part female and then crying about how no one understands your artwork is nuts. I learned that by taking Computer Science III, I can shut down any website in the world whenever I want. I learned that Harry Potter and his friends are actually gothic kids who are constantly going to muggle concerts. Most importantly, I learned that reciting memes to people doesn't make you cool or funny. Only funniness is funny, and memeiness is akin to fagginess. Now, as brutal as that may sound, I want to be clear: I am not being homophobic by saying "fag". When I say "fag", I am always referring specifically to the English slang for a cigarette. So if I say, for example, "Stop being a fag", I mean "Stop being a cigarette". Confusing? Good. So be reciting memes in chatrooms/omegle, you are not being clever or funny. It is like smoking cigarettes all day, but instead of destorying* your lungs, you're destorying your SOUL.


*note: "destorying" is not a typo. Destorying refers to the act of destroying something so bad that you literally erase it from history, i.e., annihilating it's very story.

BAD week for Blogging

It was a horrible week for bloggers and blogging everywhere, because my computer monitor shorted out for no reason without any warning at the crack of dawn. It now lies in ruins, as seen here:

















So, in other words, no juicy celebz gossipings, no hot girl of the week, no joy and peace to the world. During this difficult time, I spent the nights lying wide awake, wondering how the hell my life had spiraled into such a non-blogging state. During the days, I kept myself mildly entertained by playing UFC: Undisputed while drinking soy milk, blasting Lady GaGa music and cursing the sky.

So, had I been able to blog, I would've blown the roof off of some hot Lauren Conrad gossip that no one knows about, not even that shining golden bastion of pure knowledge, TMZ. It was so juicy that if this gossip were in the form of an orange, and you bit into it, juice would go flying all over your face. Juice would fly into your dog's face, and all over a baby, and all over the walls, and just generally everywhere. But it's too late. It was time-sensitive material, so I guess I can't do that.

I was also going to do a scathing hit-job story on Olivia Munn, but I decided not to, because I am very very afraid of the powers that back her. They could snap me over their knee like a really long graham cracker with ease.

The hot girl of the week was going to be... I don't know... Jessica Alba or something. I don't know nor care, because I wasn't able to do it, and this makes me want put on some Bullet For My Valentine and just start the cutting. Maybe I would've made it Olivia Munn, just to make up for all the nasty things I almost said about her, but didn't, so it doesn't count, right?

Okay, peace, nerds.

The Fame Monster Has Me

Dearest Diary,

I'm sorry I haven't written on you in awhile, and I know how turned on you get from the feeling of cold ink pouring out all over your pages, getting you all dirty. I know all I wrote this week was the letter "y", which is probably not sufficient for an official celebz gossip blog, covering the glamorous and amorous lifestyles of the hottest starz, like Lauren Hill and Gilbert Gottfried. However, I've been very depressed, and as a result, I put on some black eye-liner, covered one eye with black bangs and wore tight jeans while cutting my wrists while listening to Hawthorne Heights. It was very very sad, but I feel a little bit better now after binging on brownies and listening to lots of death metal. I also did some kickboxing to let my emotions out, because there's no better way to deal with anger than to train your brain to start punching when it's upset.

Then, I had a thought: if fish cried, would anyone know?

So I'm doing this for you, fish, because I know that you're potentially crying every day, just no one gets to see it because you're surrounded by water.