Each week, our commenters blab and blab and blab. We used to reward them arbitrarily with a night in our Gold Star Motel. But that was just to get them to shut up. Who will listen to them? Who will care? Not us! But we know who cares: Crazed uber-commenter (and Gawker ad fella) LolCait cares!
Oh, Gawker. Sometimes when we touch, the honesty's too much.
There we were, drumming along, a fairly typical week of the youngs, the poors, and the parties. And then, at approximately 11:50 am on Thursday, 10/11... WHAM! Something slammed into this tower of babble with such incredible force that I hasten to think the very foundation of Turner Field shook.
I am speaking, of course, of the post un-hyperbolically titled "Nightmare Online Dater John Fitzgerald Page Is The Worst Person In The World." This story not only laid bare a character of monumental douchery and arrogance; it also bore magnificent commentorial fruit not seen since Foxy Brown made her Hail Mary BlackBerry toss. So, without further ado, I give you some of the most upscale comments from this most glorious testament to the value of humility.
Oh, just you wait. In an attempt to grab the spotlight back, Neal will write a column about Elijah looking at girls in his daycare, shaking his head at one, and saying "No. That one's too fat for me."
He's listed as a Promising Newcomer in John Willis's Screen World, Asshole Edition
Sadly, he lost the part of Notebook, in the eponymous film, to Brad from Bay Ridge.
What is there to say about this? It's just beautiful.
On a more serious note: Mr. Page. I'm sure yesterday was a fairly difficult day for you. And for that, I am sorry. We mock your internet personality, knowing nothing of who you really are. I guess the lesson would be to be careful what you say online, as the world's population is drawn ever-closer to each other by the wonder of these internets. Or, don't be careful. Take this and run with it. As commenter XIBIS suggested (on the phone, I believe): Chris Crocker the shit out of this. A reality show can't be too far on the horizon. And I'll tell ya, you've got one loyal viewer already in the bag.
So now, we'll end with one more bedtime douchebag story:
"Today, I love myself, I love my family, I even love my boss and the cuckoo lady in my building who sautees onions all the livelong day, and barks back at her dogs. I love everyone and everything, because all my negative feelings now have a proper receptacle. In this way, Fitzy can bring about world peace, simply by just douchin' on."
I think that pretty much says it all.
Oh, and P.S.:
Nuts! I mean, Boobs!