A love letter to you.

[The Good Reverend Roger]

If Roger was one-tenth the monster he gets made out to be, this forum would be a wasteland.

But it happens every time.  If I'm arguing with someone, it's my fault.

Each

and

every

time.

But I don't mind.  I especially don't mind if logic is contorted into something resembling the Gordian knot to justify the opinion that I am at fucking fault.  I LOVE that shit. 

What I love is when you're blamed, BUT YOU WEREN'T EVEN TAKING PART IN THE CONVERSATION.

It's teh mind lazors, you see. 

Or even better, when I am in an argument with, say, Cram...And I am told by casual passers-by¹ that I am creating a CULT because by the act of disagreeing with Cram, I am stilfling all opinion on the board.

The irony of that particular statement sent me into paroxyms of ragemirth.


¹  Cram, himself, had nothing to do with this.

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

If Roger was one-tenth the monster he gets made out to be, this forum would be a wasteland.

But it happens every time.  If I'm arguing with someone, it's my fault.

Each

and

every

time.

But I don't mind.  I especially don't mind if logic is contorted into something resembling the Gordian knot to justify the opinion that I am at fucking fault.  I LOVE that shit. 

What I love is when you're blamed, BUT YOU WEREN'T EVEN TAKING PART IN THE CONVERSATION.

It's teh mind lazors, you see. 

Or even better, when I am in an argument with, say, Cram...And I am told by casual passers-by¹ that I am creating a CULT because by the act of disagreeing with Cram, I am stilfling all opinion on the board.

The irony of that particular statement sent me into paroxyms of ragemirth.


¹  Cram, himself, had nothing to do with this.

Yeah,  that's a good one.

[Adios]

If Roger was one-tenth the monster he gets made out to be, this forum would be a wasteland.

But it happens every time.  If I'm arguing with someone, it's my fault.

Each

and

every

time.

But I don't mind.  I especially don't mind if logic is contorted into something resembling the Gordian knot to justify the opinion that I am at fucking fault.  I LOVE that shit. 

What I love is when you're blamed, BUT YOU WEREN'T EVEN TAKING PART IN THE CONVERSATION.

It's teh mind lazors, you see. 

Or even better, when I am in an argument with, say, Cram...And I am told by casual passers-by¹ that I am creating a CULT because by the act of disagreeing with Cram, I am stilfling all opinion on the board.

The irony of that particular statement sent me into paroxyms of ragemirth.


¹  Cram, himself, had nothing to do with this.

It's the Ripple Effect™. Every time you log on 72 virgins die and all internet drama is automatically redirected to your IP.

[The Good Reverend Roger]

Anyway, I've spend quite a bit of time thinking about this, and I've come to a few conclusions.

1.  Someone who treats me or talks to me like a friend only when it's of benefit to them is not my friend.  They are at best a casual acquaintance.  If you don't ever have time for me, I will not have time for you¹.  I'm not fucking stupid, nor will I be treated like an annoyance that can be dealt with in a condescending manner.  I do not, in fact, need to be hit in the face with a wet mop.  That being said, I have decided to outright terminate 3 friendships...1 local, 2 online.  I don't plan to be a dick, but they just became a face in the crowd.  These people know precisely who I am talking about.

2.  I no longer care if people assume I'm the fucking bad guy.  Fuck you, I'll BE the bad guy.  You can just fuck right off, fall in a disused mineshaft², and die.

3.  I am done being polite to a few people who I SHOULD have been done being polite to a long fucking time ago.  

4.  Thread derails with inane personal bullshit³ will be dealt with in a manner that will make the treatment DK received look like fucking CANDY LAND.


¹  I fully understand that people get busy, don't have time, whatnot.  What I'm talking about is when someone cuts you off completely after years, because you are no longer useful to them.  This, beyond anything else, is what has spurred this little outburst (alongside #3, below).

²  The preferred method of idiotic accidental death in rural Arizona.

³  Derails happen.  But I don't care about your love life, your financial status, or any of that shit.  I didn't spend 30 minutes puking a rant so that you can tell us all about the TOTALLY UNRELATED EVENTS IN YOUR LIFE.  Leave it in open bar, FFS.  

[Adios]

Fuck yeah.

[Dysfunctional Cunt]

I don't know what to say.....

I'm just 

I count my friends on one hand and you are among them, so while I can appreciate the errrr sarcasm (maybe) in your posts, it bugs me that people assume so much bullshit about you.  But you know that. 

[Don Coyote]

If Roger was one-tenth the monster he gets made out to be, this forum would be a wasteland.

But it happens every time.  If I'm arguing with someone, it's my fault.

Each

and

every

time.

But I don't mind.  I especially don't mind if logic is contorted into something resembling the Gordian knot to justify the opinion that I am at fucking fault.  I LOVE that shit. 

"Your Love is Drug"

"Roger Not Even Once"

[The Good Reverend Roger]

Dear America™,

Shall I tell you how I love thee?  I love you more than I love that epidemic of crabs that went through the barracks in 1988.  I love you like I love my acid reflux.  I love you like I love hearing about my neighbor's commitment to Jesus.

Sometimes I lay awake at night, contemplating my love for you.

If I were a public figure, I could make you understand my feelings, I could bellow them at you from your television, while freaking out on the Oprah! set.  I could tell all in some page 6 magazine, and maybe send you naughty pictures of my hairy, scabrous ass.  My, how the pundits on E! would talk.

But I'm not, I'm just little old me.  Bashful, retiring Citizen Roger, who will quietly love you from the sidelines, like Mark David Chapman worshiped John Lennon, like Yolanda Saldívar loved Selena, like Richard Milhous Nixon loved the hippies at Kent State.

Or Kill Me

[Freeky]

This thread fills me with The Love. Got the shakes all over, man!

[The Good Reverend Roger]

Dear America™,

I know you've tried, believe me, I know.  But we split back in '91, for Chrissakes.  Please stop sending me things (The first time you get a bushfire war in a decade, it's sweet.  The third time it starts to get creepy.).  

Please stop calling my cell phone to tell me what I've just won, or what I can get for such an amazing price.  

Please stop following me around and keeping tabs on me.  

Please stop trying, on my television, to show me how great things could be if we got back together.  

It's OVER.  It's time to MOVE ON, to find someone new.  This isn't healthy for either of us, and before you even bring it up, we're not going to be "friends with benefits".  I am going my own way, now...I have been for 20 years and change.

Just leave me alone.

Or Kill Me.

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

Dear America™,

I know you've tried, believe me, I know.  But we split back in '91, for Chrissakes.  Please stop sending me things (The first time you get a bushfire war in a decade, it's sweet.  The third time it starts to get creepy.).  

Please stop calling my cell phone to tell me what I've just won, or what I can get for such an amazing price.  

Please stop following me around and keeping tabs on me.  

Please stop trying, on my television, to show me how great things could be if we got back together.  

It's OVER.  It's time to MOVE ON, to find someone new.  This isn't healthy for either of us, and before you even bring it up, we're not going to be "friends with benefits".  I am going my own way, now...I have been for 20 years and change.

Just leave me alone.

Or Kill Me.

OOOH YEAH!

[Jenne]

for the whole thread!

[The Good Reverend Roger]

I like the heat.  I like the chase.  I like tap-dancing on the tightrope.  I can't help myself, I've been an adrenaline junkie for 22 years.  I can't stop doing stupid shit, I simply MUST fuck with bigfoot, just because he's there.  I had things under control for a long time, I had Curly smiling at me from the teevee, you know, he just smiled no matter what, and I felt better.  Calmer.

But he's gone, now, and I've gone back to fucking with TSA agents in Buffalo, with their silly pervert machine.  I've returned to bad behavior and irresponsible use of vehicles and firearms, and I have a hankering for some cactus...Because the air is thin, and breathing can get hard when the deal goes down and the upside down people come by every night.  These new Pills^TM are helping some, at least for my definition of "helping", but I feel like I'm strangling in suburbia.  I wasn't cut out for this white picket fence shit.

No, I was made for cheap bourbon and cheap cigars and my beloved City, and to hell with that damn doctor.  He doesn't understand how things are managed out there, he doesn't know how things get done at 3AM on a Saturday night, when the bad things run loose and the perverts reign.

No, he's a very civilized man, is my doc, and he just doesn't feel the same compulsions that I have to deal with.  He doesn't spray stomach acid out of his mouth while he's losing his shit at his desk.  As such, he's unqualified to determine what's best for me.

And what's best for me is America.  Not the United States, and sure as hell not America™.  I'm talking about MY America, where people mind their fucking business if you aren't hurting anyone (who didn't beg for it), and me and my pervert friends can get our monkey on in style.  MY America, which has precisely NOTHING in common with the "america" that the teabaggers and the religious right keep whining about.  People have a fun time in my America, they don't go fucking hungry, and their children can read.

But since my America doesn't actually exist outside of my own personal space, I am occasionally forced to deal with America™, and one day I'll shit on you all, kick you IN THA NADS, and fling you off the side of the mountains.

There is some shit I won't eat, and most of it seems to be on the news.

Or Kill Me.

[LMNO]

FUCK YEAH.

[The Good Reverend Roger]

It was an accident, you know?  It was just one of those Good Times that got out of hand, and the SWAT team accidentally shot a Marine veteran 60 times, with 71 shots fired (That also means 11 bullets went on their merry way, looking for someone to say hello to, on a nice Tucson spring day.).

She was only trying to make rent, right, make rent and maybe get a little "medicine", to help her forget she was once daddy's little girl, with teddy bears on the bed and a few boy-band posters on the wall.  She got rolled by a John and stuffed in a dumpster, but it was really nothing personal.  Just another day in South Filth. 

Just another chance for the 21st Century to say, "Hello, I know I'm not what you were expecting.  The picture on my OKCupid profile was from a pulp magazine from 1946, but I just know my personality will shine through the bits of wear & tear that I've accumulated since then.  By the way, can I stick my finger in your ear?  That's HOT!  Maybe we can go for a nice walk, you know, maybe to Iraq or Afghanistan or maybe this new club I've heard about in North Africa."

He was just a simple preacher man, a bit of a schmuck, really.  He thought for years that humans could be civilized, if only they were given a chance to slow down and catch their breath.  It took years, but he finally realized why Curly's smile was always so sad looking...That the only thing making the humans run was themselves, and that they no longer wanted civilization.  They wanted self-righteous murder in foreign lands, they wanted expedience over principle, they wanted the trappings of empire.  They wanted rule, not government.

So this preacher man, yeah, he decided that a new career was in order.  He started studying The Machine™, he studied the cogs that it is made of, which is to say "people".  He took off his minister's collar, and put on a surgical smock.  He became a Doktor, and swore to burn it all down.

After a time, he relaxed a bit, he got a little lazy and overwhelmed, he started feeling bad for the humans again.  He began to preach again...For a while.  Then The Truth sank back in, and he began his Doktoring again, only in slightly smarter, quieter ways.  Everyone got used to the preacher man again, and they forgot to look behind his pleasant smile and amusing rage-y rants and sermons.

It's probably for the best, really.  There's nothing behind that smile but malice, 7 pounds of bad wiring and misanthropy that would make Paul of Tarsus blanch.  He smiles and he smiles and he learns where the gears are, and readies his bags of sand.

Just kidding.  He's just a simple preacher man, and he loves you.  He loves you all, and he really wants what's best for all of you.

Because he loves America.

Okay for now.