Reflections on a Twitter Drive-by

Huh. That was... anticlimactic.

I finally realized this past weekend: there's something fundamentally and intrinsically sad about people who think they can insult you on the internet.

I got a few random people from out of the blue insulting me about something I posted this weekend on Twitter. Not even phrases, for the most part. Single word insults. Credit to one guy for actually putting some thought into calling me fat, but...

Seriously? Are you so pathetically insecure about yourself that you tried to come up with a devastating insult, and that's the best you could do? I've gotten harsher - and more honest - feedback from grade-school girls.

To all the internet randos who created sock puppets to insult me: this expired Frosty coupon truly represents the combined value of your efforts.

My dudes, within 24 hours of running my first political ad, I was receiving incoherent rage messages from people telling me to kill myself. I would tell y'all to up your game, but frankly? I don't think it would help. I get the distinct impression that your combined command of the English language peaked somewhere around middle school.

Just one of those life lessons, I suppose. It's easy to let social media give the illusion of connection. To get suckered online by one of these schoolyard bullies into thinking, "OH NO! Someone in my group doesn't like me!"

Nah. There are quite a few people in this world whose opinions I value. You aren't part of that group. So I should thank you, collectively, for reminding me of a lesson that I learned a long time ago: you deserve my pity, not my attention.