The Second Coming of Lyley The Whiney
Well, Lyley the whiney has replied.

"hrmm... how did you know my age anyway? wait: you actually went through my archives because the only time i mentioned it was in my first post."

Actually, I did not go through them. I did the smart thing and went to the earliest one because that's where all the unoriginal people give self-intros. And I looked up your age only because you called me a kid. Also, you mentioned it in more than one post. I know that because you were interesting enough to warrant me reading more than one post. Consider that a compliment.

"i got your address via blogger - the recently updated blogs area.

oh - and i'm not a moron (although sometimes i think i'm insane, which i probably am, but that's not the point). but of course i'd be wasting my time if i try to make you think otherwise so i won't.

and i do tend to whine a lot. it's my thing.

have a nice day."

Well, just as being whiney is your schtick, being abrasive on my blog is mine. It's all in the name of good, clean fun, dude. You don't seriously think that my friends would stick around if I called them idiots and meant it, do you? Actually, they probably would because they're a bunch of spineless assholes who would be nothing without me. Anyway, you called me a "poor [sic] kid" without even knowing my age, so I called you a moron. One good turn deserves another, see?

"two other things:

1. in all probability my mental age is a match for yours."

Dude, you're 17. People know fuck all at 17. You'll agree with me when you're 25 (hint).

"2. yes, you may link me."

Why, thank you. By the way, if you read my blog, you have to be a masochist and be able to shrug off such things as being called a moron, idiot or retard. I fuck everybody up, regardless of race, language, religion or their relationship with me.  ¶
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