CULTIVATED INFLUENCE

24 January. 2012

This one’s for… Well, you all know who. This is for the people who require some sort of constant conflict and attention in their lives to feel important. This is for the chicks still distributing drama like entry-level drug dealers. This is for everyone who publishes their emotional roller-coaster relationships. Shut the entire fuck up! No, wait, I’m really joking. Don’t.

Hello people of aforementioned circumstances,

I’m just writing this to let you know I notice. Please don’t stop being you if this applies to you. As a matter of fact, thank you. In these bitter cold months of being cooped up inside in my free time and not answering texts of women who make poor body perfume decisions, I need the entertainment you provide.

However, this is a Tough Love blog, after all and what disservice would I providing the good people if I didn’t share some annoying, yet simultaneously hilarious tendencies that you procure?

Sooo.

First off, I don’t know how you people login and share your entire personal life and proceed to get mad when others discuss it. How does this make sense? I’m bewildered constantly at this.

… And how do you expect your relationships to work out if you broadcast the entire situation? I just want to look at cute chicks who have freshly Instagrammed profile pictures, not be subsequently intertwined in your love affairs because I read your latest post about all how men don’t treat women right anymore or whatever the hell no one cares about it is.

Some of you are so bad with it that I feel like I could be called as a witness in a trial because of what transgressed on my timeline. Fuck that.

But, by far the most entertaining juvenile, dramatic act I see you ladies and glitter boys doing online are the blatant, subliminal tweets. Reading tweets like:

“Maybe if you partied less and devoted more time to your child I wouldn’t be taking you to court you broke piece of shit.”

thoroughly amuse me, but really… Chances are, (I hope anyway) that there’s only one person in the world that you could be speaking about. You might as well just attach their @ name on there so they know it’s real.

By the way, every time you repugnant hoes choose to spell “bby” instead of “baby” it makes me stammer when I read and I hate you all for it. At what point will you jezebels type like you learned something in school? Dr. Pepper managed to fit 23 flavors into one beverage and you basic bitches can’t even manage to include the only full-time vowel in a four letter word. I can tell your cooking repertoire revolves around Hamburger Helper, Ramen and Velveeta.

I’m sure some of you are asking, “Gee, person who writes these Tough Love blogs, you’re hurtful, yet somehow insightful with your words in this piece. How can I reform myself, but still entertain you with my naturally instinctive, basic ways?”

Well, it’s rather simple, really, but it wouldn’t be any fun if I just gave you the answers to social prosperity and the key reasons why men of valor and women of elegance bypass you, would it?

I’m still not over this “bby” spelling shit… That’s the real reason why. You know how bad it bruises my ego when I stammer over that shit? The voice in my head sounds like it has an impediment, man. Fuck you guys.

I’m out though. I’m going back to laughing at people proudly posting beginner’s Temple Run scores on Twitter like it’s a “My son/daughter is an honor student” bumper sticker.

Be safe, stay great.

-SG

P.S. The show Basic with a Baby Teen Mom is for the hoes.

Follow me on Twitter @SpencerGlover

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