As a direct result of some person from the Fast Cupid community anonymously leaving a message on my private blog that I felt was made in the spirit of meanness, I have decided to seek retribution by crashing your party. Blogo-terrorism is not nice. It caused me to lose sleep and I was unable to work for many hours. I have decided that this person must pay by being forced to deal with my presence. I don't expect to be let in to the blog party, but the mere suggestion of my presence at this party should be enough to cause prolonged stress and possibly lead to physical disease. This is why terrorism is so effective and popular today. The stress alone causes enormous damage to the population. Just look at me. Stress has made me a wreck. If I don't make it to this blog party, I'll be sure to be at one in the future. Maybe I will crash more than one blog parties. I am the dark cloud on the horizon of any future blog event. Changing times/locations or trying to conceal this information from me will not work because I have eyes and ears on the inside. Even if I didn't, you don't need to be Jim Rockford to figure out where this one is going to be.
Rest assured. I have a lot more to fear from you than you have of me. I am just a weak, lonely and pathetic Jewish guy who takes Valium. Well before I get into the door, the great defender of feminism, Pac Daddy will probably bludgeon me with a copy of Margaret Mead's book while his minions stab me in the back. Maybe Shakti will level her rifle or shotgun or whatever that thing is at me. I don't think she would deliberately pull the trigger, but, being that the gun is actually bigger than her, she might lose control of it and accidentally blow my head off.
I don't believe in God. But it's only because there is no evidence of him. Maybe the great irony will be that there is a God. Maybe he will be Jesus Christ -- that guy that I as well as most Jews can't stand because we've been repeatedly accused of killing him. (We're also kind of tired of having him jammed down our throats everywhere.) Perhaps when I'm killed by you, in the afterlife, I will watch Nancy Grace have a week-long wig-out about "the heinous blog cult that savagely killed this poor, defenseless, weak, middle-aged Jewish guy that suffers from extreme mental illness." I will be sure to bring love poetry with me, so to make myself appear even more of a victim. And Manishevitz. I will wear a yamaca too. I want to make sure to gain the sympathies of the Jewish community. I want them to know what these gentiles did to me. And of course I will have my medication on me so that Nancy Grace can more dramatically report to the idiot masses of America, the patheticness of the victim that you brutally murdered.