Dear Knock Knock Motherfucker:
Newborn vampires must answer to their maker and are unable to resist if their maker commands them to do something. Eventually, makers will allow their wards to go out into the world themselves to be independent and free. Wards can return to their makers if they wish and will always be loyal to them.
The first time I saw your page name, I got all happy inside,
but that is a story for another time.
So, I “liked” you. I had been swimming in
a sea of anger for months – Trayvon Martin, Rick Santorum, Newt, Amendment One
here in NC. I am pretty sure that my skull was about to fucking explode. A few months
later, I saw something that I created on your wall. I commented. You commented
back. I messaged you. You messaged me back. I messaged you again, you messaged
me back. I didn’t even know there were 3 of you then and I still don’t know
which one of you gave me such great advice or if the other 2 even know that
exchange existed. You were all like, “you need to do this and this.” And I did
it and you said, “No. not like that. Like this.” And, I did it. And you were
all like, “one more thing.”
As a result, my page was born and suddenly, life
has new meaning, to me. There’s beauty up above in things you never take notice
of. Is
it just me, or is this letter seriously deficient in the fucking cuss word
department? I digress.
In the short month that has followed my making, I have found all of
you to be so amazingly fucked up and disturbed and awesome and I totally love
that sometimes I don’t know which one of you is talking to me and sometimes I
do and that at least two of you dig me back. I have “met” some hilarious fucked
up chicks like Insane in the Mom-Brain, whom I enjoy immensely. (Don’t be jealous, you will always be my
bottom bitches). I have pushed more fucking envelopes than I can count and
all without fear. I have a fuck ton (by my measurement, 600 is a fuck ton) of
fans that I have a shitload of fun with. See, KKM, you
stepped into my life without asking, making the life that I had seem suddenly
shiny and new.
So, thank you, Knock Knock
Motherfucker, for recognizing what an incredibly hilarious bitch I am and encouraging
me to share my neurotic bullshit with the rest of the world. (completely
unrelated side note: at work when I speak of you, I totally call you “my friend, Knock Knock
Motherfucker.” It’s fucked up that I insinuate that we are actually friends. But, we are. And now
S has said that I am your FB BFF, thereby affirming that we are permanently connected, I’m going to keep referring to you as
such). And for teaching me about cuntbabies and twatwaffles. There are still so
many fucking things that I don’t know that you really should teach me. I mean,
you can’t just kick me out of the nest and never look back. That would just be fucking
cruel. Like screen shoot. I have no
fucking idea how to screen shoot. So, there is that. And thank you for making a
card for my boss and for sharing my shit and for letting me love you. And for
not thinking I am a psycho stalker bitch with a new obsession. I’m not. I’m
totally not ever doing that again. For real. Don’t worry.
Oh, J, S & R, I have so much
more to say to you, but alas, this is starting to get creepy, so I will leave
you with this pledge: You, KKM, are my Facebook Maker. While I may enjoy
the blood of other humans, I will always be hopelessly devoted to the bitches that
made me. You didn’t have to love me like you did, but you did, and I thank you.
Yours in dolphin rape and cuntbaby banishment, ISYI
