Brief Probably Futile Musing on Lack of Hits, Friends, etc. 6/11

You know, it is immensely interesting, even funnily ironic to note that even though I belong to, read or follow a veritable boatload of bloggers, I have no followers or readers! Now, isn't that just a fucking laugh...a laugh and a half? I hate to seem so bitter, impolite and vicious, but what the fuck is with those other people? I mean, I read, maybe even comment on, their ridiculous nonsensical, pappy, pithy, familial, pharmaceutical offal, their drivel and their respective doggerel......and yet I, a beacon, a fucking oracle, a pundit, a wag, a whatever you want and need me to be, a chameleon, an improviser, a writer true and supreme of any and all things...I, I, have no motherf**king followers or readers. Not to be self-effacing or self-doubting, but why? Is there something wrong with me and my original, true, cool, poetic, fine, fancy, intelligent, incisive, powerful, great blogs? Perhaps the real problem is that I am too intelligent, my vocabulary and sentence-structure too refined for their precious asses. If I myself am an ass, I am an ass only because of the vile stupidity of others. Here I am, a great writer, whose sense of everything is hyper-attuned and poetic and poignant and potent, and yet, no one reads me...and even if they do, they do not follow me nor comment on me. Well, I am getting to the point where this blog, while still existing, will be only for me, and all others can go fuck themselves! And, by the way, I don't normally talk or write like that, but I do not enjoy being ignored...even by morons, thus, I am angry now and when angry I write and talk scurrilously and with overmuch invective. Well, that's all I have to say for now. Bye.