To my friends and my foes, my readers and my haters,
Long time no see, you selfish troglodytes. Let me ask you this: when you all retreat to your homes or go out traveling the world, who is left to care for me? Be honest — I’ll bet most of you didn’t think about me even once this summer. Did you think of your other friends? Did you invite them out? I’ll bet you did, but nobody cares about poor, poor Bobby.
After all I’ve given to you people, I would expect some more love and respect. I sit here, typing away with my fat lighthouse fingers — which is really hard, by the way — answering your idiotic questions and acting as your pathetic jester. I thought you would get better after I called out your disrespect last winter. I thought we had finally built some kind of bond here, me and you all. I mean, some of the questions were so lovely last semester. Not all of them — please stop asking if I’m bisexual — but some were nice. I really felt like we had something, but not a single one of you reached out to me the entire summer. Nobody invited Bobby to their beach trip. Not once.
When you find yourself alone in the dark woods at night and you hear leaves rustling behind you, you’ll regret how inconsiderate and disrespectful you were towards poor Robert. Watch your backs this year — that’s all I’m saying. Wherever you think Bobby might not be, I promise, I am. I am omnipresent. I know all. I know what you do when you wake up in the morning and when you go to bed at night. That’s disgusting, by the way, and you should feel ashamed of yourself. You know who you are.
I can’t just be mad at my readers, though. This goes all the way to the top. These Mass Media nerds shut down printing operations for the summer, effectively gagging me with a towel and throwing me in a closet to rot. Little do they realize, the only reason anyone picks up their stupid paper is to see my cherubic face on the 14th page. Oh wait, we’re on page 10 this week because these losers only need me to fill space. It’s funny how that works — how you depend on me to even survive as a publication. There’s nothing funny about this letter, though. You should have put this sh-t under news.
How egotistical is it to call yourself ‘The Mass Media,’ anyway? Do you know how many news outlets are in Massachusetts? You’re THE Massachusetts media? I’ll believe it when I see it. The only “mass” about you is the mass amount of waste you produce by printing a paper newspaper that nobody actually reads. Your whole operation is just an excuse for a bunch of judgmental grammar freaks to have a better LinkedIn than the rest of us, only to not get a job anyway. News flash — nobody hires journalists anymore, Clark Kent!
I don’t like to fly off the handle, but I won’t sit here and tolerate the disrespect I’ve been treated with. That being said, I’m still contractually obligated to answer your questions regardless, so don’t think you’ve seen the last of me.
From your most cherished lighthouse,
Robert B Beacon
