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2003-02-24 | 12:34 a.m.

this bit of brilliant writing from our dear friend keed:

"hey fuckface, i don't mind if you criticize my writing. i do mind if you have a fucking tiny dino brain that is incapable of understanding HOW to write.. i save comments that mean something to me, not your fucking goofy senior citizen puddle in your panties anger over my genius..stop waving your cane in my direction, and start using it to help your crippled dr. seuss ass back into writing rehab.."

Which brings up a very valid point. Should people who are not necessarily very good at writing continue to filthy up places like Diaryland with their tripe?

Should folks of average... or wait, even less than average intelligence bother to waste time on the arts? After all if they can't write well, or draw sublime pictures or sing beautifully, should they bother? Should they even try to find pleasure in art lest they upset some diary-nazi with a bad case of tunnel vision and short, narrow fingers? And.......should they dare ever comment on the genius that is The Keed?

psst, leeesten keed, cheel magn. eets yust a freekin die-rey ok?

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