So, one of my trolls who was helping with the blowing up of my phone on my birthday is a “writer” for the student paper at University of Tennessee. And he’s been retweeting my writing all weekend, so I decided to troll him back.
It wasn’t as enjoyable as I thought it would be, and I almost felt a little pitiful — because it was just too damn easy.
I told him how sad I felt that there was no more excitement in Knoxville than college students sitting around trolling an old lady who wipes babies’ butts all day. When I was there, we were national champions and I was too drunk to be that damn miserable or lonely to stalk an almost 40-year-old person online.
Also, I read through some of his work for the Tennessee student paper online, and it’s no wonder he was stalking me. I was writing more coherent pieces in my Hello Kitty notebooks than the shit he’s cranking out. Bless his little untalented heart — no wonder he’s obsessed with my words!
Oww, his widdle privileged Trump-loving heart, it’s got to be hard to sitting around in college with no dates, no life — hell, no parties? — and getting out-sassed by an old woman all the time. Except I don’t generally even have the patience or the time to play this troll game with them because, as a grown ass woman, I have things to do. Like a soon-to-be batshit-crazy 91-year-old Memaw to care for.
As an aunt of a Senior and a two-time state champion, it makes me really sad that this kid has nothing better to do with his life. Who was that pitiful or hard up for real fun in college? I guess his mother can rest easy knowing he’s just sitting around trolling old women, instead of, actually out… you know, doing drunk college shit like rest of us.
Again, child — trolling old ladies online is not going to help you get a piece of ass, Bubba.
Do your homework. Find a chore. Hell, wash up all your orange, kid. Get busy. You’re gonna need it starting September.
Like this, below. Bland. Mediocre. Meh. I guess boys who can’t play ball… Tweet? Cause he sure as shit can’t write.