Thread by @lauralexx

If cowardly is not wanting uninvited interactions with dull pedants who insert themselves insultingly into light conversations in order to wank all over the perceived moral high ground THEN PAINT MY BELLY YELLOW AND POUR ME INTO A FRAIDY CAT COSTUME

“You don’t want to talk to me so therefore you must be afraid of my truth. I am powerful.” He said, in his most powerful keyboard baritone.

She looked at the words, lying bare across the screen and hesitated. Perhaps he was right?

But he wasn’t so she got on with her day

She looked at him across the internet, ‘he must be exhausted. it’s tiring work finding conversations between two women he doesn’t know and finding a way to twist them into a superiority complex.’ If only he knew someone in real life who could bring him a refreshing juice drink

“She is tweeting me!” He cried aloud, the first sound in his room for 8 mtgs that wasn’t a damp fapping noise. “This must mean I’m under her skin! I win!”

And he was right, he had got under her skin... he was a mild annoyance that she could choose not to look at: like cellulite

The attention engorged him & he looked at his arsenal, wondering what to hit the professional writer and comedian with next. What would really sting her?

SJW? Snowflake? Swivel eyed lefty? How about “so called” comedian? That always worked. Then his eyes fell upon the cry laughing emoji and he grinned victoriously

He was torn between the joy of notifications, for attention meant an end to the crushing loneliness, & the annoyance that the idiots on Twitter were liking the wrong tweets - not understanding his reasonable position. Why couldn’t all women be as kind as the ones on his posters?

Tiffany Amber Thiessen gazed at him with her kind, understanding eyes. She would never talk down to him, she would always do her best to understand he was an intellectual without parallel forced to engage with plebs, she would never use a word with three syllables