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Nerdcore Rising
Smirk
mudcub
MC Frontalot:
I hate your blog.
It’s incredibly terrible and bad.
I hate your blog.
You own a dog, and you feed it.
I get to read it.
Plus five paragraphs on the socks you bought and your thoughts on whether
Nicole Ritchie’s hot or not..
You got no reason to be typing, yet you persist.
Hit each key with your fist till you punch out your top ten list of all
the things that happened to you in your life.
Number one: met Michael Jackson’s second wife.
Number two: got Curly on the Which Stooge Are You Poll, as the GIF proves.
Click for the link-through!
Three: saw puppy pictures on a web page, kittens in a nest egg.
The idea gestated: why not make your own?
So you bought the account and yet I hope you don’t put the payments in on
it every month like they want, ‘cause then you’ll disappear off the
internet, haunt just the Wayback Machine like a ghost.
And I won’t be like, “How come you don’t post?”
I promise I won’t.
I hate your blog.
Your recipe for vegan eggnog is stupid.
I hissed and booed it, and then eschewed it, never made it once.
Yes, your blog roll is a confederacy of dunces.
It abuts less interesting links in your posts.
Hamsters that dance!
I’m not engrossed.
I’m not opposed to your collection of All Your Base pics, but they’re
longer in the denture than a ninja flipping out doing face kicks.
I’ll phrase this nice: it’s hard to get to bed, but your web site will
suffice to entice me to slumber.
I mumble impoliticly, “I tried not to click ‘read more’, but you tricked me!”
Want to stick the whole computer in the trash can instead of reading about
the constipation lately and your ass plans that you seem to contemplate.
Your thought I would rate your page ‘awesome’ and ‘great’?

Reply:
You’re just jealous.
Yeah, that’s it – envious even.
Turning green when my counter broke ten thousand this evening.
Mad you can’t match my keyboard content or petitions for legalizing
micropayment thieving.
X-rays of teething eight-month heathens and pictures of kittens heaving,
the calories in everything I’m eating, yaoi art my girl drew of Goku
making out with Joss Whedon, my 300-pound friend’s exposure (that’s
indecent).
But that’s only negatives.
I’ve got discussions on the homeliest alien relative.
The final battle, Sam Cassell versus Carnage and a triple-threat match:
Charles vs. Marilyn v. Shirley Manson from Garbage.
I pay homage to great Americans like Bill O’Reilly and Ann Coulter,
Westwood radio for help when insulting countercultures.
My blog stands above all others by head and shoulders.

MC Frontalot:
I hate your blog.
You ain’t logged in in a month and a half, and I, for one, am aghast.
I mean I’m fast on the way to removing it from bookmarks.
If I took part in vanity I might be trying to look smart by not checking
eight times a day.
Your blog is so despair-inducing I can’t bear to look away.
Oh well!
Got to do what your muse compels.
Guess I’ll try to go despise a blog made by somebody else.

Even if you don't like rap music, please check out MC Frontalot's new CD "Secrets From the Future". Self-proclaimed master of "nerdcore" music, he has the only song I know of that name-checks both Fermat *and* Puccini. And he's gay friendly to boot!

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