Ego Pricking (Or To Pilfer A Book Title: Everyone Is Entitled To My Own Opinion)

Groucho Marx, in his warped brilliance, once declared, "I don't want to belong to any club that will accept me as a member."

Conceit? Check. Assholeness. Check. Irony? Check? Perverted sense of humor? Hell, yes. Self-mockery? Absolutely. Truth? Arbitrary, depending which bracket of self-esteem you delude yourself to belong to.

This is why I have absolute addiction to I Will Fucking Tear You Apart.(From hereon shall be referred to as IWFTYA)

Let's run the checklist once more: Are they conceited? Yes. Assholes. Yes. Ironic? Yes. Warped Sense of Humor? Yes, although their brand of humor is so wry they end up wiping the smiles off deluded bloggers' faces as a matter of delicious habit.Which is a very welcome proposition. Self-mockery? Well, they don't seem to take themselves too seriously, so we can qualify it as a yes.

Truth? Can I spray-paint YES in neon tangerine across the blogosphere?

Long ago, in my anomalous pursuit for self-validation, I bumped into IWFTYA and since I am deeply masochistic I enthusiastically submitted my blog to be diced. (Impertinent sidenote: I also submitted my link to Berate My Blog and Review My Blog and got summarily ignored.) IWFTYA listed me in their long queue and, to some people's disappointment, they ceased ripping people's self-esteem by announcing that they will stop reviewing blogs. Imagine my genuine surprise when I was notified that they are back with much sharper scythes. (checkout their charming Grim Reaper mascot).

The charming mascot's scythe incised my merry neck, as expected. But what a riot!

(This entry is not written in self-defense. Methinks I made fair warning in my blog's "About Me" section as to what unsuspecting bloghoppers should expect.)

However I cannot agree more on what was written on the review: It's incisive, brutal, and goshdarn honest. If one has to squint a bit, the roughshod dissection of my blog even contains a crooked hilarity that often escapes the touchy-feely breed. Which brings me back to this entry's opening quote which is linked to my unpretentious regard of IWFTYA: I love that scythe-wielding site because they have imposed upon themselves not to dispense fawning, sophomoric reviews. I am all for democracy; and in a democracy I do not expect everyone to agree or become echo chambers of my neurotic, self-absorbed drivels. In fact I would be freaked out if they gushed like hormone-crazed schoolgirls in adoration to my disputable brilliance.

Which they didn't as expected.

However let me straighten out this bent bisexual's misperceived points. This is not to score reversal points or appeal for a rating repeal. Somehow for a western reviewer to fully understand the inner tweakings of a third-world mentality, the easiest route should have been to completely sidestep the local language entries, as it will only breed frustration.

Excessive verbiage and all those unnecessary textual embellishments are consciously done to annoy all the simplistic I-Only-Read-Blogs-That-Have-Less-Than-Two-Syllables blogfrogs. Least-common denominator way of blogging rampant in this side of the world. Of course my method is downright pretentious but it is also a weeding out device to keep those silly linkhunters to solicit elsewhere. This also proves the evident suspicion of many that I am a full-pledge twat. Several local bloggers view my blog as a prerequisite for nosebleed, which also feeds my deep well of conceit. But here's something I concur on but I do not necessarily practice: “Sometimes brevity really is the soul of wit.” I have had an herniating experience watching Dr. Zhivago and in that context I can fully agree that brevity is a virtue.

There are flashes of cleverness: "I was swiftly sucked into a time-warp. High school! Haha! Zits! Rampaging hormones! Circle jerks! Kidding, again." (Although methinks he's not kidding.) And if he'd stick with more of that and less wry pomposity, I'd be more inclined to read. Maybe. I was really kidding. If I had circle jerks in high school I think I would have grown up happier and blogged along the tone of Mary Poppins instead of a crabby prick who sometimes prefer pricks.

My initial intent was to write sordid details about my online exploits. To recount all the tacky orgasmic details and the souvenir tales that go with such shameless exercise. It was meant that way until I realized that gazillions of sexually bents in this side of the blogosphere are embracing this type of blogging prototype that it can be safely considered to be a bona fide mental disorder. Why would I contribute to the flood of breathy porking articulations when every other link I chance upon are already overripe with erection-inducing narratives of sexual exploits? Which of course brings me to my glaring fault: I should change the sub-head of my blog's title because, as the review pointed out it can get misleading. Maybe I would. Maybe I won't. See, I'm a stubborn freak, if that wasn't apparent yet.

Tell me something real. Why are you blogging? Just to trot out your blasé musings? Again I'd conveniently point my snout to the right hand corner of the blog. Zoom past the convuluted “puffed up verbiage ” and pin your eyes on that punctuating line that I'd like to pass off as 'real': He blogs to authenticate his deep insecurities.It's all there is. A validation of insecurities coated with conceit and verbal puffery. And, of course, an egotistical awareness, that this is a blog and not a possible short list material for the Booker Prize.

Do you have relationships with people beyond superficial snarkage? If so, that might be interesting to know. And maybe it's there but I can't get past the self-satisfied smirk and frothy text to find it. Somewhere in the grand mess of this blog I have repeatedly conveyed about writing multiple blogs detailing my other 'serious' relationships outside the domain of snarky remarks, as the entry would put it. This blog is exclusively for the bent bisexual angle, which is remiss on the sexual entries category, yes, but I'd like to believe that regardless of the nature of this blog I'd like to flatter myself into thinking I am not a complete walking mass of cynicism. Or hideousness. Hey, Even Hitler, Stalin and Mussolini have had bestfriends.

I maybe delusional but I don't flinch in the face of scathing truth.

That's why I honestly welcome the ego-curdling review. In fact IWFTYA reviewers are the types I'd want to have double vodka tonics with on a Saturday night. But I'm not positive they'd find the idea of a languid self-possessed asshole inviting them for a drink.

Which is just fine. I'll have more time to ponder the secrets of the universe. Then I'd have more reasons to believe that everything is absurd, and boring, and idiotic.

I am a brilliant philosopher. And Groucho need not apply in my club.

There's not enough room for my overblown ego.