This is post #69.

I’ll wait while you giggle. Go ahead, get it out of your system.

Done? Good.

My brother-in-law suggested

I write about the difficulty of facing certain positions, in a “tongue in cheek” fashion. You’ll be glad to know that I decided against going this direction. Some scenes are better left unimagined.

Moving on… 

I was examining other posts lately and noticed the biggest and best blogs seem to have an awful lot of HATERZ. And it made me think — where do you pick up those fools? I wanna get me some HATERZ, too. Do you have to sign up for a club membership? “HATERZ, Anon. Get your hate on!”

I guess I should take it as a compliment 

that I haven’t said anything over the line yet to piss off anyone too badly. But I’m preparing myself for the moment when someone decides I’ve gone too far. Which probably isn’t very long from now, because I’m pretty tacky. Except for avoiding the 69 issue. That was fairly UN-tacky of me, I believe.

 When the HATERZ come to my bloggy-blog,

which surely they eventually will, I intend to handsomely reward their interest and enthusiasm. Not with money or anything fabulous along those lines. Still, there will be prizes.

The more poorly written comments will receive GOLD STARS. The more atrocious the grammar and sentence structure, the more GLITTER shall be tossed. I am very excited about this plan. There will be much fun-making. I plan to enjoy myself immensely at someone else’s expense.

But not every comment will be contributed by a dunder-brained fool. Some HATERZ will be intelligent meanie-pantsez. Upon these cruel bastards I shall bestow the coveted PURPLE HEART award, for being brave enough to face my wrath, and for surviving the battle of words. This may sound irreverent, insinuating I make light of a soldier’s plight. But I served in the U. S. Army (no, for realz), so I assure you I’m not crossing any lines here. Also, one time I got lost in a field exercise and TOTALLY should have received this honor for not losing my shit. It was epic. And another time I almost fell off a cliff in Hawaii because the night vision goggles were too foggy and made me feel all claustrophobic so I took them off.

Spoiler Alert: I survived.

Here are some of the future comments I am looking forward to receiving:

“OMG Andi-Roo, you are so obnoxious, why don’t you get a life, you disgusting whore?”

—Not arguing with the accusation of obnoxious-ness. Totally true. I do have a life I enjoy, though. I’m not a whore, as the sex I have doesn’t return me any dollars. I obviously didn’t marry for money.

“Your stance on this issue is understandable given that you are a dumb bitch.”

—I actually happen to be a SMART bitch, thank you very much.

“I’m only following you to see what stupid drama you next get yourself into.”

—Awesome! Might I recommend some other fucked up individuals you might enjoy hating? Try Penelope Trunk or Jenny Lawson AKA The Bloggess. They are sure to fill your quote of drama. Tell ‘em I sent you. Jenny owes me fifty-cents anyway.

“You should quit blogging because you have nothing to offer.”

—My mom says I’m smart enough to go to Yale. So fuck off, ya wanker. Also, my husband was voted among the Top Five Hottest Guys working at Dayton Mall Borders, which means I am married to a local celebrity. What’s your claim to fame, hmmm? Also, one time I wrote to the editor’s section of a comic book and they published my letter. Oh, burn!

“Aren’t you ashamed that one day your children will read this?”

—I should be so lucky that my blog will still be around when my seven-year-old is interested in reading blogs. As it is, my eighteen-year-old thinks I’m fucking hilarious. He also works out with werewolves on a regular basis* and is training with UFC guys to be a cage fighter** — and don’t forget this is the same young man who went to State for wrestling — so you might want to watch what you say about his mama.

These seem to comprise the entirety of the HATERZ comments. I think I’m ready. Are you? How do YOU deal with HATERZ? Is it a source of excitement in your life, as I anticipate it will be in mine?

*Totally not true. There is no such thing as werewolves. Obviously.

**Absolutely true. I worry for his face and hope he doesn’t get cauliflower ears.

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