Hello Darkness! The Official Blog of Helen Keller

I'm trying to time the release of a three part post over the course of three days allowing the grand finale on the 100th day in office.

If I fuck it up, I blame you.

Otherwise...

THE COMMENT CORNER IS GOING TO TURN 100

Fanaholics, it’s been 100 days since the Comment Corner opened its doors and allowed the web’s best and brightest inside, allowing them glimpses of idiocy, full-blown dumminess and other shocking revelations. It’s been a titillating ride to be sure, but if there’s going to be social retards unchained, there’s going to be a Comment Corner.

For instance, recently, I had an acquaintance return from a resort trip to St. Lucia. I’m all for sending dumbasses out of the country and I’m all for calling in fake drug smuggling tips to the local Caribbean authorities to bar them from leaving. I’m a social activist.

However, once these people eventually do make it back to the country, they have no problem inundating me with banal details of shit I couldn’t care less about. That is, I get the Big Three reports I didn’t ask for. Much like a punch in the side of the head from Gary Buesy, these are coming your way whether you like it or not.

You get the First Big Report: the weather. As if I’m entirely not capable of understanding that countries closer to the equator experience higher average temperatures due to the prolonged exposure to the sun, dicko will attempt to channel Tycho Brahe and explain the weather. Well, explain is too sophisticated a term, dicko will describe the weather. Thanks. If I had wanted to know what the temperature was in Kingston Jamaica, I’d phone down there and have somebody put the telephone outside, I’m not an idiot. First part of the First Big Report is what it was like either stepping off the plane or outside of the terminal. “Durwheez, it was hot! My clothes just sucked right to my body!” Then it’s a thousand variations on how to tell me it was warm: “It was so warm, it was very warm, it was just the right amount of warm, oh it was warm and it was nice, one time I did crystal meth and picked a fucking hole in my arm for 3 days and when I was down to the muscle, it felt as warm as it did on the Sunday we left.” There is only one challenge to explaining how warm it was; incorporating the rain they had. Much like Magellan on his voyage ‘round the world, these people feel the need to keep the most accurate weather details, as though NASA were dependent upon it for the next broken Shuttle launch. “Golly-pissface, it rained for 4 hours, all in a row no less, on the first day we were there, then on the Wednesday for a few hours in the morning and then we had a hell of a storm Saturday evening! You could see lightning and everything!” Fuck. Like fighting a hydra or arguing with the civil service, each time you shut down one avenue of talking about the weather, seven more spring up. Heaven help you if this is being described to an audience. There’s always one Neville Chamberlain in the crowd who’s going to fuck things up worse by asking other banal questions. Here’s what you have to do. Give a thunderous side kick to Neville in the knee, shattering it inwards towards the other leg. Neville should crumple straight down before a scream registers. Immediately go down to the ground with him as though you’re concerned. Let everybody know that you think he ate a bad 12 grain bagel from Tim Horton’s. Neville may protest, but keep one hand raised in the air to distract onlookers and quickly fire a silencing elbow into an eye socket.

Ultimately, you’ll accomplish two things. One, you can feign helping Neville away from the scene, avoiding hearing ear-bleeding details of the windy nights and secondly, you’ve punished Shittles McQuestionAsky for prolonging the torture. Win/win.

Stay tuned for more from the party of the century!