Welcome to the Hostages, otherwise known throughout the blogeshpere as the “Get the Fuck Out” blog and asylum. Priding themselves as coining several phrases all meaning “if you don’t like it, get the fuck out”, they maintain a daily ritual of demeaning and belittling remarks steeped in sarcasm and condescension. You will find yourselves in awe because some residents here are the Billy Mays of the ridiculing industry.
By requirements set forth in contract with MCPO, a song:
We are now entering the main lobby. As you can see by the shiny new trophy in the corner, someone was just told to “get the fuck out”, and they did. Isn’t that special? Notice that it is a triple-decker trophy – quite rare indeed!! It’s an especially treasured trophy because it was earned by slyly stalking their prey and blindsiding them. It was tricky — the sugar-coated remark came in the form of “I’m so offended, I’m going to offend you even worse” , or “if you can’t take it”, or “it’s rough around here”, or “perhaps this isn’t the place for you”, but make no mistake, the meaning was clear– “if you don’t like it, get the fuck out”. No, no, don’t pay any attention to the the niceties said to you as you enter, such as “we’re all friends”, “glad you’re here”, “anything you need”, and the ever tricky one “you have the right to your opinion.” Because in the end, it’s all “this is just the internet and we can’t take it seriously.” Instead, adhere only to the underlying rule that you are required to eat the shit with a shiny spoon and pretend it’s all funny or get the fuck out.
But, I digress. As you embark on your journey here, otherwise known as Wiser’s Ego-Trip and Prickish Landing, please be careful you don’t get too close to the edges of the magic flying carpet, for that may show weakness, and you might just “accidentally” get a little “push”, IYKWIMAITYD. (statistical graph to follow in the newsletter) Once that happens, a sad, disturbing turn of events occurs. Like the victorious, rabid peacock, participants gather around the “accident” scene and display their cocky, colorful “I-showed-them” feathers. Ohhhh,,,it’s SOOO unimpressive, it will take your breath away. Nothing like that adrenalin rush one gets from stomping on the nearly bloody, embarrassed, and humiliated (now)former “friend”.
At this point in our Ego-trip flight, to protect our more ego-sensitive residents, I ask that you don’t spread the rumor that a dangerous black hole was created by the vacuum left when a former owner and admin went missing. In scientific communities it’s call “Who’s the Boss” hole. (I hear Tony Danza will play Wiser’s part in the movie).
Continuing on….By now, I assume you’ve had a chance to take a look around. Pretty sad, isn’t it. Don’t let that dissuade you from continuing your journey, however. The “fun” has just begun. After all, we haven’t come to the “sorry if that bothers you, but it is what it is” room yet. That’s the room decorated with the piles of condescension fabric left over from the Obama inauguration. You know the kind–nice and velvety on the outside, but rotten on the inside and smells like sloppy-seconds sarcasm. Here in the “It is What It Is” room (also known as “I’m so clever to think of yet another way to say ‘get the fuck out’ room ” ), you can view the old, rusty trophies from times past. These trophies record all the history of the asylum patients – only to be dusted off and brought to the Get the Fuck Out trophy case to remind everyone of discretions past. So, lest you think you can leave your past behind, and grow into a decent human being and life-long friend here, well… LOL,,,that ain’t gonna happen!! The motto here is “you have a nice persona, be a shame if something were to happen to it!”
Last, but not least, we have the Territorial Howling Monkey room. It’s the last stop in your journey – the room that you will exit our blog from after months, perhaps years of ‘go along to get along to survive’….aww, yes, the room some of our residents are most fond of. Pay no attention to the spatters of blood and feces in the corner where the last uncooperative “friend” was taught their lesson on how to get the fuck out.
After our tour, if you should decide to stay at the Get the Fuck Out Blog, please sign the registry at the door. By signing, you will agree to become part of the discardable peon group. They meet once a week in a 12-step email program to ease the pain of being treated like a disposable plastic spoon someone just used to scrap dog shit off their shoes.
As your tour guide, and well-worn asylum resident, I hope I have somewhat prepared you for what’s ahead on your journey. Please step carefully off the magic carpet – it isn’t just the first step that’s a bitch. Please fill out the survey card given to you earlier and then roll it up and shove it, because, regardless of the “we care what you think fine print”, we really don’t give a shit what you think. My job here is done, and I shall now go ponder whether or not to take the advice – given to me so many times and in many clever ways and get the fuck out.
Now, put on your safety glasses because you are about to experience a dust storm caused by Wiser rushing to find a 42 second YouTube video to push this down.
Oh,,,one last thing. You may hear disparaging remarks about my tour. Perhaps there are some that won’t find the humor, or refuse to heed it’s lessons–but don’t take the insensitve remarks to heart. After all, the King once said – “it is what it is”…no room for improvement.
By requirements set forth in contract with MCPO, a song:
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