“When I grow up I wanna be a Youtube commenter.” – Nobody
We have all seen them, the Internet trolls, the lost souls of the World Wide Web. These hobby-less wonders sit in their mother’s basements and type crap nobody cares about, hoping to upset someone or two.
Ennui clearly got to the best of this bored tool. A lone kid behind a keyboard and a monitor, with nothing better to do than leave moronic comments on independent musicians’ remixes, he probably thinks he is the only person who ever made a song before. Or maybe he just wants to bother strangers because he has no life. Maybe both?
How does he get his housework done? If he is that bored, he can come over and clean my cat’s litter-box, and then do my laundry, putting it all away after he folds it. I will not mind.
When translated, the troll’s drivel roughly says this:
The self-proclaimed musical genius could have just scrolled by and found a song he liked better, listening to that instead.
Sadly, used his idle hands to become the Moron of the Week. This is a clear example of how he wasted his time.
Maybe the would-be-customer is one of The Soggies. I had always wondered what they did after they lost the Cap’n Crunch gig.
Did it ever occur to the customer to buy a box of ice cream and melt it themself?
For demanding a ridiculous refund, I award this Karen or Darren Moron of the Week. Maybe they will make an appearance in the new King Kong film, Karen Kong.
I make many things: drawings, stories, songs. The way to my heart is through a love of my talents. If you don’t like my stuff, cool. Move on and scroll past. I am too busy, you know, creating things.
Meet Robert Arwyn Jones, A/K/A “Jones” on Youtube. He started commenting on my music. I liked what I heard and commented back. A mutual exchange, right? No, not in his mind; he was thinking with his other head.
That moron mistook my kindness for lust when we took our conversation to email.
When I told him I bond with people who like me for my talents, the karaoke king took the low road by gaslighting.
But wait — there’s more! My lack of mutual lust had gotten this moron so butt-hurt, he made the choice to hurl insults. Ahhh, the average schoolyard bully.
What a prize! For pretending to care about me as a creator just to try and lure me into bed, I award Robert Arwyn Jones Moron of the Week. Enjoy your award Robert, you’re a real winner.
Some Moran (yes that is their name) thought it might be a good idea to make it legal for bill collectors like the fictional Sybil Kibble text your phones to beg for money. Even if the debt is not really owed; since medical bills are notoriously incorrectly billed, these morons think they can spam your phone.
Oh and people have been thrown in jail over medical debt.
Nobody should do time because they have medical debt.
Here is a better idea for all you who hire those CRASS, LLC wannabes: How about asking the customer if they have additional insurance? Or and here is another no-brainer: how about billing primary and secondary insurances in the order the patient specified? Don’t know which goes first? I dunno, maybe try asking the patient. They just might tell you. Duh.
For choosing greed over empathy, I award these bill collectors and those who hire them Moron of the Week.
It’s not really hard to impress me. Ask me questions about what music I like, and my favorite hobbies. Ask about MoronicArts, I don’t care.
Sadly, about 95 per cent of interested suitors get this part wrong. How had is to to…you know…try?
Take this rando who slid into my inbox:
For acting like most of the other guys, and then probably complaining to your male friends why you cannot get a partner, I award this dime-a-dozen douche and all others like him Moron of the Week. Try and compensate for your deflated ego. You just got an award, dude!
This sad playboy — I am putting it nicely — got all butthurt when I messaged him looking for friendship. Yes, friends, as in getting to know each other better. When he replied to my intro question showing interest in his hobbies, all he said was he liked those things. I replied asking him what he would like to know about me and what was his response? Wait for it.
He said yes, go ahead. Confused by his comment, I replied with a simple question mark.
Since he was five hours ahead of me, I did not expect a reply, or even to see him online at that point. It was 8:50 PM my time, 1:50 AM his time.
This luser got all butthurt, saying I was interested in him and got rather cross because I asked him to tell me more about himself. You know, what humans do to get acquainted. Figuring he had something to hide, I blocked him. I wanted no more contact.
Today, ennui got the best of his soul, so he sent me this message right here on MoronicArts to try and mansplain dating, music, or whatever it was he thought I was trying to achieve when I wrote him, because my blog is chock-full o’ pretend and real-life morons like him.
Hmmm. Maybe he sees a little bit of Peppi Cacca and Pat Splatt in himself. Or maybe Damien Hurlbutt since Gareth’s Twitter handle “tungstenfedora” screams neckbeard. Why not get yourself an anime waifu like the other neckbeards, Gareth? Maybe he should get a hobby, I have things to do and am very busy.
Meanwhile, Gareth, enjoy your participation trophy, I mean Moron of the Week Award. Hold onto it really tightly, because I need it for the next moron.
This post brought to you by the letters #MotW.
Watch Carly Simon poke fun at neckbeards in her updated video to “You’re So Vain.”
This Karen, aptly named Karen per the passenger next to her, would not stop staring at me and my legs. Since she sat still long enough in her state of ennui, I drew her, tuning out Karen with my music.
Only then, did this Kareny Karen start to make demands. After I got a lot of the sketch done, I took off my headset, and heard Karen insist I stop drawing her. I advised Karen I would stop drawing if she stopped staring. Square deal, right?
But no! Karen made the conscious choice to gaslight me, insisting she was not staring and using the sense of entitlement at the level of your typical neighborhood Karen. She demanded I move my leg because “I was getting medicine all over the seat.” Yes, that invisible medicine you need special Karen powers to see, I had it all over my legs, my eyes, even inside my esophagus. Mmm-hmm.
Karen insisted she was right, after all, she said she 12 years experience in the medical field! I asked where she worked, Dr. Google?
Of course Karen refused to tell me and instead kept making demands, even complaining to the bus driver since the manager was not on board. The bus driver kept on driving, meanwhile Karen kept on Karening.
I award Karen Moron of the Week. No Triforce for you.
The main inspiration behind the character Damien Hurlbutt thinks MoronicArts is all about him. Seriously. I hope over time more people learn about communal narcissists and how they insidiously abuse people. Overts and coverts are bad enough; communals are even sneakier. I would not wish narcissistic abuse on my worst enemy and wish no ill will. I just wish they would all form their own narc colony on a deserted island and leave the rest of us alone.
Or better yet, drop them from planes into an erupting volcano, and vaporize them so they cannot make more narcissists.
I was married to one of these evil souls. Had I known he was the son of Satan, I would not have dated him, married him and moved halfway across the country for him.
I wish I had been given the omen.
Now divorced, this real-life neckbeard and “men’s rights activist” has told his friends that I draw cartoons of him and write stories about him.
Has he heard of Squirrely Dan?
Allegedly not.
My ex works as a senior library specialist and loves to read. I would hope that someone like him, whom I would think has a good grasp on literacy would understand that Damien and all the other morons are fictional characters.
Apparently my former husband thinks he works in a movie theater, just like the random stranger whom I had met long before him.
I will never forgive my ex for trying to turn the spouse of my late friend against me in his smear-campaigning. Such a tender-heart, a self-proclaimed “old soul” writes lunacy letters like the drivel below and sends them to his estranged spouse’s medical providers.
Because, umm, a librarian knows more about psychology than an actual mental health provider?
I will never forgive him for telling me he was “a nice guy for not throwing me into oncoming traffic” while we were walking into the hospital.
I will never forgive him for manipulating the divorce judge into letting him take custody of my cat Holly, whom he beat and put into the shower to “punish.” Who does that to a cat? Has he helped move a body or something? He had been seeing the same therapist as a convicted murderer who made international headlines and the killer has been living in the same apartment complex as my ex the night of the murder. I left him at 8:30 AM the day after the poor lady was abducted.
I write and draw MoronicArts stories to cope with having been abused. I feel it helps and I am a lot happier back in New York State, doing my own thing, living with my sweet kitty Nicki. I hope to pay it forward by writing jokes while at the same time healing myself, as I feel laughter is one of the best medicines.
I am so glad I brought back Moron of the Week. Every time I think I encountered the biggest idiot, they build a bigger idiot. Take this sad sack who works in education, I kid you not.
Oh, and this idiot mansplained while he was talking down to me. So not only is he a narcissist but a sexist, too.
This ableist fool thinks it is okay to beat kids, with a belt no doubt. Last I knew, it was illegal to hit adults, however this narcissistic moron thinks it is okay to hit little ones. He also thinks it is okay to force kids with food texture problems to eat food that makes them gag, or have them starve as an alternative.
Of course, I called him on it. Like most narcissists and sociopaths, he took no responsibility for his actions and instead made the choice to gaslight. No, heavens forbid he apologizes and changes his ways. Like a typical imbecile, he asked me for an apology for, you know — my trying to teach him empathy. In other words, blame-shifting.
I really wish the military could order bunch of planes to drop narcissists like bombs into a volcano and vaporise them, so they cannot make more narcissists. I would be happy if they just left people alone. Maybe this guy can go start a narcissist colony on some deserted island in the middle of nowhere.
Hopefully the narcissists won’t vote each other off the island.
For condoning violence against children, I award this fragile male the Moron of the Week Award.
(Note: If you are a victim of domestic violence, there is hope. Call toll-free in the United States: 877-633-1112 or visit https://www.thehotline.org or call 911.)
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