At Least Betty Boop Was Coy

This is Vicious Vikki:

I'm smarter than you.
I'm sexier than you.
I'm meaner than you.
I'm bolder than you.

Did I mention that I'm sexier than you... c'mon now, what's not to like?

Y'all only wish you had the balls to be like me. WhatthefuckeverLoser.

All right...digest that for a moment, and then I will continue.

Good? Good.

Putting aside that I’ve been stubbing cigarettes out on my arms to try and stay awake while searching for some evidence of the bluster above, I’m going to address the "balls" issue first:

It is absolutely, positively, scientifically impossible to be bold, sexy, and have "balls" when you are a cartoon-character; the very fact that there is a drawing representing you should preclude you from using the above-mentioned adjectives. Moreover, if these qualities were evident, well, I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t have to tell me about them...you’d say something smart and/or sexy, and I’d say, "wow! That chick’s got herself some balls!"

But no...instead, I get this:

"You know why I love wordpress so much? Cause I can cheat. Yep. I can. I’m doing it right now. Bite me."

That’s one whole post.

For real.

How bold; that’s almost as interesting as watching that old guy in my building who makes his daily pilgrimage to the mailbox across the treacherous tiles of the lobby while navigating each crack and dent in the floor as though rabid grout-alligators wait between the tiles for just one opportunity to bite a big, steaming chunk of elderly-flesh from his wrinkled ankle...no, wait. That would be interesting...or, surely more interesting than a bunch of glorified text-messages spat out seemingly at random.

Granted, there are various hints that there’s something going on beneath the veneer of unjustified self-aggrandizement, but I don’t know that for sure because I would apparently need to "sign-in" to find out...and considering that I’m doing a blog-review and not joining a sewing-circle, I guess I’ll never know.

As a blog, though, this thing is a fucking abomination. I’d rather listen to my mother getting attacked by thirty-five axe-wielding werewolves in an echo chamber than spend any more time looking at a giant-sized cartoon of what someone named "Vikki" wishes they were.

Harsh? Well, to quote the woman herself: "WhatthefuckeverLoser".

So, here’s one flaming finger, because more might make her think she’s "bad-ass".



Oh, and Vicious Vikki? Just so you don’t think I don’t care: write something for someone other than your little coven of cyber-friends and re-submit; I’m curious to see if there actually IS anything there, or if I’ve just wasted some of my precious life reading about "asshats" for no reason at all.