Goddammit. It's been almost one year since that glorious day where many of you hopeless turds were swiftly tossed out of this place for prolonged cuntiness and now that time is here again. FUCKING RUN.
I know this place has become overcrowded again with many undeserving starred people who seem to be convinced that the little yellow thing by the side of their funny name makes them invincible, but remember, you are inevitably subject to my mood swings and today, I'm sorry to say, is one in which my tampon is extremely uncomfortable. So I'm ripping it out and using it as a goddamn battle flail.
Now, a word from the ghost of David Carradine on behalf of the Comment Ninjas (hi-ya!) to explain some of the "rules."
As you have undoubtedly noticed, commenting privileges and stars have been granted more casually and with greater frequency than in the past. Comment approval and star status has been granted for superior photoshop jobs, friending a Facebook page, signing up for emails, suggesting a song, and other similar actions. This increased comment and star volatility has let a number of commenters who may have otherwise gone undiscovered share their talent with the world. However, with increased comment volatility also comes increased commenter mortality - "easy come, easy go."
While stars may be indeed coming and going with more fluidity, some things have not, and will not change. As many of you who have written us privately can attest, our message is simple: comment approval is premised on making funny and original comments. Smart, creative, thoughtful comments that add something of value to the post are valuable, but ultimately subservient to "funny and original." Put another way, if you don't think there's a chance of the comment earning a "+1" think twice before sending; it's not a chatroom. Earning and keeping a star depends on being consistently, exceptionally funny and original, over a long period. Whining about, pleading for, and making a scene about star-hood is (generally) neither funny nor original, and does not help your cause.
Finally, a word about memes. As long as there have been comment ombudsperson posts, the folly of reciting memes instead of actually making jokes has been reiterated. We still hate that garbage. However, an insidious new meme has made it's way into the comment section: the obscure or tragic to be obscure or tragic. Is your reference to some long dead choreographer actually funny? Or is it just an excuse to be "clever"? Is your joke involving the I-35 bridge actually funny, or is it the equivalent of posting the Goatse pic? There have been too many comments that have been the latter, recently, and changes must be made.
Too civil! But thank you, Ninjas.
Anyway, the next couple days will be fun and chaotic. Many of you may not like what's going on but we need this to happen to get better. If you'd like the opportunity to prove your worthiness, today's the day to do it. And don't just hide and wait for a day when I'm not experiencing heavy flow. You will be found. Just like that dumb deer-hunting fuck, Gerald Marois, in the picture above whose legs became bear food. Listen to this dope describe what happened to him:
When the bear charged, Marois said he turned around and ran toward a nearby oak tree - "The one I wanted to put my tree-stand in" - and climbed three-quarters of the way up. The bear followed him up. He shakes as he tells the story from his hospital bed, his arms, legs and face covered in deep gashes.
He said he tried to fight the bear off from the tree's upper branches, but it kept coming up after him.
"I was hitting him on the nose and head, trying to hurt him. And every time I hit him he was scraping me and just pulling on my boots."
The bear pulled a boot off and began biting the bottom of his feet.
"Then he dragged me almost to the ground."
And then he almost got eaten. You know why? Because he thought of himself as Dennis Fucking Miller even though he's most certainly fucking not.
I hate doing this stuff because, as you may have noticed, there are like 50 other things to worry about on this site and I hate to waste my valuable Bagel Day (every Wednesday at the office!) dealing with you people instead of dicking around with Facebook groups and Twitter shit and newsletters and ATHLETE DONG and still trying to figure out who the hell this Dave Matthews person is.
The next couple hours will be fun and chaotic and many of you may not like what's going on but this needs to happen to make your home better. Please just step over the puddles of blood.
DJ, play that song for the doomed. Again.