You’ve been perusing the internet for a while, because you like to be entertained. You in particular like to read. You read books, and you read text in its various forms, but what you don’t read is writing directed most specifically to you.

 “That’s silly!” you say. “I am especially fond of friendly, marshmallow-shaped aliens and I found a book that details their plight in-depth, how could anything be more clearly geared towards me?”

 “Ridiculous!” I bellow, smacking you for emphasis! “Marshmallow-shaped aliens!? How much time do you have?” No, I mean, there is a voice in between first-person and third-person, and it is used least often because it is the most awkward to write in.

“Ah!” you say, nodding wisely. “The middle child is indeed the most often neglected.”

I smack you again! We are not talking about children!

“Good,” you say, rubbing your [cheek/arm/other] and frowning. “Because you shouldn’t smack children. Why are you acting so inexcusably violent today?”

I apologize. You’re right, I’m being far too slap-happy. But I find that a slap adds drama. Bad movies taught me that. You nod appreciatively. You also dislike those movies. It’s what drove you to marshmallow-shaped aliens.

“So you specialize in awkwardness?” you ask me. Ah, now you’re getting it! Grinning from puberty, particularly if braces and acne are involved, I nod vigorously. But do you notice your part in this?

“Is acne contagious?” you moan. I am shocked that you could be so ignorant, as pimples are clearly explained as a punishment from the pox fairy because you haven’t been eating your vegetables. Obviously.

No. Your part in this is that you’re a part of it. Get it?


I resist the urge to smack you a third time.

I really hope you’ll read our blog.

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