When a blogger feels scorned, she has a big decision to make. Either she can write a novel-long post documenting all the gory, intimate details that led up to her curling up in the shower with a bottle of bourbon last week (ensuring that everybody knows it’s HER that’s the most hurt in all this, not HIM…a classic victim power move, if you ask me), or she can spare the readers’ eyeballs by not disclosing the play-by-play of one of the worst experiences of her life, and just focus on writing about things that make her happy. I chose the former first, and typed around 4,000 words that basically made no sense at all….repeating “I WAS WRONGED” a hundred and fifty times doesn’t exactly create a literary theme. Bad writing aside, I was still prepared to dole out some Raggle-style justice, so I added in a couple more ‘douchebags’ and ‘assholes’ to the post, and got my gnarly, little Golem finger ready to hit ‘Update’……..but then didn’t.
