Sticks and Stones

There's something undeniably thrilling to me, whenever I publish a blog post rich with scandal and the potential to ruffle some feathers. It's like I kinda get off on the nervous excitement that accompanies sharing my more lurid stories...and the anxious anticipation I feel while I wait to find out if there'll be fires to put out. I'm always my most agitated, during those first 24 hours immediately following posting a controversial entry...wondering who all I've pissed off or freaked out, and what the possible repercussions might be. Yet it never ceases to amaze me that after getting myself all worked up over the threat (or the promise) of collateral fall-out, the typical response is nearly always either positive remarks (preesh!) or complete and utter silence. I'll be there thinking, "Woah...how can everyone really be cool with this piece?" I guess it could be that most of my readers are too shy to tell me what they really think...

So, when Matchstick Man's initial reaction to my last blog entry (which - in case you haven't read it - I devoted entirely to ripping the poor guy to shreds) - was one of acceptance and resignation - the residual side effect was this sort of blah combination of vague disappointment mixed with not-so-welcome relief. Here I'd been apprehensively awaiting whatever backlash would presumably ensue...but instead, what I got was a big ole goose egg, since for the most part, he claimed to be copacetic with pretty much every aspect of my evaluation of him...and he expressed his deference to my harsh opinion, in a comment that he submitted to the blog:

"I KNEW I could make it to the blog - one way or another! (p.s. not the least bit insulted) Signed, the Matchstick Man"

huh...so that's it?...how very far removed from what I'd expected...The whole thing was just too damned anti-climactic...I mean like, how could the guy be that fine with my scathing assessment of every aspect of his character? I had (for all intents and purposes) chopped him down to stumps, had I not?

Stranger still, he continued to dole out his unconditional and enthusiastic approval of what I'd written about him, by stating in an overtly desperate DM:

(subject) "Very well writen..." (and No, that is not a Big Ugly typo)

"Dear Larualyn (interesting spelling...and yes, my cover is blown. Contrary to prior blog entries, my name is not actually Isobel. There, finally got that outta the way...moving on)

I apologize in advance if this message is redundant - sent it IM off line also. I LOVE your blog! Little harsh on the descriptives, but that's artistic license. I can take the heat, and don't offend easily but in all seriousness, if you don't like me and don't want to chat (much less do anything else) why not just say so? I am a grown man and have been shot down plenty of times. It's really not a big deal. Otherwise, a dinner date is still an open offer (how big of a boob can he be?) - you can bring your girlfriend who thinks I'm the Axe Murderer too. My treat. I might translate better in person than on-line. (seriously...like - has. he. no. pride.)

Still your FB friend,

Matchstick Man"

A little while later, I was roused from my bewilderment, when I received an email notification that another person had commented on my blog. Upon reading this most recent submission, a devilish grin slowly crept 'cross mah face...and I began mentally battening down the hatches for the slight chance of a shit storm, now in the updated forecast. This new comment (I hoped) might be just the thing - to help Matchstick Man grow some fucking balls, and respond accordingly (like any self-respecting man should) to my unrestrained annihilation of his person. And if that were to happen, I just might get a taste of that tumult that so often...I crave:

"Great entry - love the blog! Stick with the young guys! You pretty much eviscerated The Matchstick Man. I don't know how he could not be insulted. He must have no self-respect!

P.S. - You are smokin' hot!"

I knew there was no way in hell, that even a suck-up little weenie like Matchstick Man, could completely ignore the guy's insult...I myself, winced with embarrassment for him, the first time that I read the thing through. I had no way of knowing just how he'd react, but I felt certain that the stranger's comment indeed had the potential to trigger, if not a ground-swell of hostile retaliation - at the very least - a retraction of Matchstick Man's knee-jerk benevolence...

When he finally got the nerve to man-up and defend himself, I thought, "Ok, now this is more like it!" My assumption was that we'd go toe-to-toe in the ring...two fierce opponents eager to duke this mess out. But my hopes for a fair fight were irreversibly dashed, the more closely I inspected his tenuous attempt to berate me. The guy didn't stand a shred of a chance...

My original plan was either to bury it altogether (to spare him further humiliation) or to wait...and feature Matchstick Man's visceral (3rd) response to my last blog post - in my newest entry, which was easily several days away from being ready to publish. But after urgently daring me to clear his good name, by insisting, "If you post the rebuttal, you will have shown decency and courage missing in your blog. I never figured you for the cheapshot coward."...along with, "that's what a 'friend' would do" - I decided to table my current entry and write and post this one, instead (once again, entirely in Matchstick Man's honor) The way I saw it, his feeble attempt to back me into a corner, was the equivalent of giving me implicit permission to drag his sorry ass though the mud...

His "rebuttal" arrived mere hours after he'd sent that first wave of glowing remarks. It appeared in my regular email inbox - as typo-ridden, meandering, pseudo-intellectual drivel, and all I could think, the more that I read was, "You wanna play, old man? All right then - Game On!"

And without any further ado - I give you the long-awaited, official Matchstick Man "rebuttal" (with heckling from the peanut gallery in parentheses, for good measure):

"Yes, Laurlalyn (again with the screwy spelling) I am a big boy (subject to debate) Now let us see how big of a girl you are (big? no. tight? quite. but alas, something you'll never know) I have had the day to digest what you have posted about me. It's quite well written and funny - as always, but mean-spirited and sad (oh, pumpkin...why the long face?) Though I am honored that you dedicated an entire blog post to me and that you spend so much time and energy looking at my profile photos and whatnot (true story - I have invested less than one minute of my whole entire life, looking at your pics.. however, I did expend a fair amount of energy running away from them in absolute horror) I detect a direct cause and effect here (aaaaaand the "cause and effect" is what, exactly?) Do you have the courage to post this rebuttal on BigUgly to some of the statements you made about me? (absofuckinglutely) Some how I doubt it (oh ye, of so little faith)

With regard to the woman I was with (lies) who I told you may have forced herself to vomit after a meal we shared (ew?) I should never made that allegation to you or anyone else (to just how many people have you advertised this slander?)

because I had no proof (dude, we got it...we know the girl doesn't exist) After further consideration I think I was wrong about that I have seen no further evidence that she may be bulimic. She does like to spend a bit of time in the bathroom but that may be for other reasons - she simply likes to be fresh! (ok, even if she was real - there's something decidedly gross about needing to spend LOTS of time in the loo keeping "fresh") Moreover, I should also have known that any conversations that transpired between us that I took to be confidential could be outed on BigUgly (duh) After all, many FB 'friends' are not really 'friends' in the real sense, only photos and message (blasphemy!) It's so much easier to be abusive to people who live far away and who you don't really know (sounds as though you speak from experience) Several layers of computer anonymity facilitate trash-talking and low-brow cheap shots (fucking deep, man) You have proven this in spades (oooooh...ouch) By taking information that was heretofore private and making it public, you have shown a lot of class - all of it low (not just smart...but witty, too!) Revealing anything of a personal nature to you was a mistake I won't repeat (does this mean that we're no longer speaking?)

With regard to my Matchstick Man body, yes, I am 'skinny' by todays standards of male dough-boy oafishness. I am 6' 4" tall and around 190 lbs. In my life lean = fast and I like fast (no idea what that even means) If you and your girlfriend find me unattractive, there is really not much I can or care to do about it (outside of inviting us both out to dinner, your treat) But, the fact that you gave me you phone number and chatted with me extensively prior to my commenting negatively on your writing would indicate that there was at least a passing fancy and some point (simply put - you are fucking delusional) You took offense to my critique of your last blog entry (au contraire! I merely capitalized on your lapse in good judgment) Let's be clear: I criticized its content (exactly) I said it was repetitive (no shit) The fact that you would find such a private comment (what's so private about it?) so offensive as to send you off a-writing ("a-writing"? what tha hell is that?) a huge, scurrilous, personal attack (...and I quote, "I LOVE your blog!") is unsettling (one man's discomfort, is our entertainment) It's your blog, you are free to do as you like (thanks for the green light there, buddy) Really if you lose one of your dozen followers (correction! that's 15 followers - thank you very much) who cares? My critique was offered privately and in good faith (nooooo...it was offered as yet another lame attempt to try and get down my pants) You have chosen to respond publicly and viciously (cuz that's just the way that I iz, and you know that) Again, that's your prerogative (but he did spell "prerogative" correctly - 17 Scrabble points for that one!) More often than not we reap what we sow (amen) Maybe one of you Cubs will turn on you and trash you on the internet (a girl can dream, can't she?)

Do I think you are hot? (absolutely) Absolutely - you have a stupendous body. Your chosen current path is one of sexual risk-taking which you hope to parlay into some sort of writing career (and this - coming from a man whose career ambitions include suckling on the unemployment tit, indefinitely) But the audience for middle-aged females hooking up is small and not particularly fresh or new (what are you saying?...the audience isn't fresh or new? I'm lost)

Like I told you privately, I don't think there is anything wrong with sex for sex's sake (and maybe someday, you might have some) And, there is nothing wrong with having sex with younger men (awww...thanks, dad) - to a point (oh) But you have to ask yourself - is it really satisfying? (hells YEAH - it is!) How young is too young? (mmmmm...) You are sleeping with twenty-something's now (yep) how about teenagers? (18 is legal, so theoretically I could) Will you be doing the same thing when you are fifty? (dear lord please yes) There is an undercurrent of pedophilia in your behavior (please tell me you're not REALLY this stupid. last time I checked, 22 = legal consenting adult) You state that I am jealous of the Cubs you have sex with (that's because clearly, you are) but in reality I find them rather pathetic (studly as shit) They can't get (choose not to have) a date with a girl (brainless twit) their own age so the resorts to trysts with a woman close to their mom's age (close to perfection) Or, maybe you are third or fourth on their list of the weekend possible (maybe so, but I'm still getting laid) and if they strike out on the top tier, they give you a call (but even if I wound up with no dates at all, I still wouldn't go out with you) Your young Marine guy should be shagging a half-dozen chicks his own age (would rather hang out with an older gal who really knows how to give head) Jesus women, I get more pussy than your cubs do! (show of hands from everyone who believes that Matchstick Man gets more nookie than...well...anyone)

Thankfully, as far as I can tell, my two twenty-something sons of ("of"? it's "have" ya' dumbass) not stooped to MILFing (oh, but they will) In the end what you wrote about me is more of a reflection of you (really? how so...) Yes, it's big (and I am rawther huge) and yes it's ugly. But the ugliness is all yours (you know how to cut to the core of me, Baxter)

The Matchstick Man

My only question for Matchstick Man, after reading his rambling rebuttal, is - you've known all of this stuff about me since day one, am I right? So why then - all of a sudden - do you find me and my behavior to be so unattractive? None of anything that I've ever told you about myself (and I have always been brutally honest) ever negatively impacted your opinion of me before. Nor did it hinder your big push to meet me, despite knowing I've fucked all those guys - curiously that is - until I made it very clear (in my blog) what a parasite I find you to be...funny how that works...

You know, my tiff with Matchstick Man is not the first one I've had with douchebag guys who I've met online. And each of these spats has been exactly just that - an easily diffused minor squabble - nothing more. The fact that not one of these altercations has ever escalated beyond more than a few terse emails and texts, leaves me feeling more than a little let down. Like - that's limp. wtf! Where's the challenge in that? It's almost as if I'm longing for the day when push comes to shove with a man who can take it and dish it out. A guy who approaches confrontation with gusto or who impresses me by giving me what for...An intimidating man possessing unsurpassed mettle and commanding the utmost respect...*sigh*

No doubt, I'm an antagonist and I do tend to egg people on, from time to time. But I may be that way partially because I feel that I am more than adequately equipped to defend myself as well as my actions. Like, "Bring it the fuck on!" I mean seriously, what can anyone possibly throw at me, that I haven't already said about myself? Through the honest, uncensored stories in my blog, I have essentially beaten everyone to the punch...and because of that I feel I am somewhat impervious to whatever personal attacks I might encounter...

I dunno...maybe this whole fiasco with Matchstick Man isn't over yet, but I honestly hope that it is. Mostly because I've grown so terribly bored with him and all of his shit, which has long since ceased inciting any passion. Knowing him, he'll continue to flail in a last ditch effort to try and save face - but I hope for his sake that he bows out gracefully, rather than becoming a full-blown pariah after falling short putting me in my place...