The Comment Imposters

Recently, my spam filter has been avoiding its job. Let me tell you the story of my assumed rise to fame and then the fall back into regularity.

About a week ago, I checked my Gmail (As I do every day) for messages concerning my darling people who like, comment, and subscribe to this blog. I was astounded when my inbox was filled (or maybe it was just like 23 emails) with messages about comments from the lovely beings of WordPress.

What’s that I see? 23 comments and counting on my own humble blog? What, pray-tell, did I post that was so inflammatory to the eyes of the public that I would receive not one, not five, but TWENTY-THREE emails concerning it?!

Well, I rushed right over to Blog Central to check it out and was sorely disappointed to find 23 very similar messages.

We were very impressed with the content you offered on your blog. May I suggest a theme from to make your blog more appealing? 

Well, that is just so flattering, guys. You’ve made me feel super confident in what I do and also convinced me to spend 60 dollars on a web layout. And by that I mean:

Please fuck off, I dislike it when you get all up in my shit. I’m just trying to express myself to actual people, okay? Okay. Good? Good.

Of course, these spammers don’t actually read these dear posts of mine and thus my ‘Please Fuck Off’ messages are shot into cyberspace where only my real human followers have to deal with them, which is both sad and unfortunate.

I’ve decided to call these ‘Faux-Commenters’ the Comment Imposters, and they are evil beings that seek the demise of honest and talented individuals such as myself and yourselves and many other selves that exist out there.

I was just discussing with my father how it would be nice to have a small army backing me and supporting me on the road to fame, but here’s the thing: I want that army to be made up of real, honest, caring people. 

If you follow my blog because you believe I am a total fucking rock star from Mars, I love you forever and please keep reading and enjoying. If you follow my blog for any other reason that has any type of emotional, physical, or intellectual value to you, by all means, continue. I love you forever.

If you follow my blog because you are a robot and/or impostor and/or Dalek…well, I don’t know why you do. You don’t have a brain or a heart, so it’s either a clerical error or you think I’m going to lead you to the Wizard of Oz. Anyhow, this ridiculous post is getting long and it’s getting dark out.

I still have a snow fort to build! Until next time, my lovelies (and not-so-lovelies).

Love ya!


About mylifeinheartbeats

Telea is an aspiring Musician who spends too much time aspiring to be a Writer who thinks she's a Comedian. There's not much more to know, except for everything. Telea has a tendency to not think before she speaks or acts. She enjoys chocolate, long walks on the beach, and talking about herself in the third person. She wants to get to know you, so please send her your Name, Address, and SSN. Telea promises that, though she has indeed committed one count of Lewd and Lascivious behavior (to be tried under a court of law), she is a good person and will not intentionally harm you/expose herself to you/hate you for your stupid perspectives/axe-murder you. Telea believes in the greater good, Nutella, peace, free love for all, and snuggles. She chooses Bacon over you, unless you come bearing bacon. She is a fat woman trapped inside a curvy woman's body. She is not for sale unless the price tag you put on her has something to do with world peace. She will sell herself for world peace. She hopes in the deepest of her heart places that you will enjoy her blog and find reason to follow it. Telea thanks you.

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