The Visitor

Franz von Stuck,, "The Wild Hunt," (1899), Musee d'Orsay, on loan to the Frye Art Museum until February 2, 2014.


I had a secret admirer until recently.  Now she has gone public.

A blogger named Water has commented on my blog posting "I am curious (Do you feel the love too?)."


This is what Water wrote:


I found your blog through a particularly uninformed and poorly written review on Yelp, where you seem to be fond of writing one star reviews. 

My god, what a ignorant and pointless diary this is. People like you who are not only unlikeable in every way and feel the need to spread their own brand of miserable and boring "thoughts" AND have the audacity to critique things you so clearly know nothing about are what makes this city so often insufferable. 

You don't know how to use a comma and your hyphen over/misuse is shameful. I can only assume that your only "social" outlet is "writing" because no one can stand to actually be in your presence. 

If I believed in superstitious cliches, I might write something about how the universe will correct itself in some way by severing your fingers and or cutting out your tongue, but since I'm not delusional I will just have to find humor in knowing what a disgusting, friendless and just plain stupid sack of human waste you are. 

My advice: don't advertise it. 

P.S. I anxiously await your witty retort, but since I will never read or think about your blog again, I'll just have to dream about it and hope I don't choke to death on my own vomit while unconscious. That probably won't happen, however, because I don''t have to sleep alone. 




Rest, Water, Rest. 

Puvis de Chavannes, "Le Reve" (1879), Musee d'Orsay