This article stinks. Don't read it.

[emily rice]

Hey. You. Yeah, you. I know you’re reading this. I bet you thought I couldn’t tell, eh? Well, I can. And you know what? I’m mad. Really mad. Kinda. Didn’t you read the title? I told you not to read this. Really. I don’t want people reading this. This is the crappiest article I’ve ever written. It’s embarrassing. Do you know how little freaking content there is in here? The most informative words are the “by so-and-so” beneath the title. I mean, not only does it lack content, it’s also incoherent and doesn’t use big words. It’s like a kindergarten essay, except spelled right and without the nifty crayon drawings.

It’s almost a sin to write this article. I mean, if anyone read it, they’d be wasting their lives. Yup, five minutes right down the drain, never to be recovered again. Even worse, if anyone reads this during class or when they should be working, I’m contributing to juvenile delinquency. Ugh, why don’t I ever think before getting myself into such messes? At least I warned you. Yup, I warned you. Nope, not my fault. I told you not to read it. I told you it stinks. Can’t pin the blame on me. I’m as innocent as a newborn. Don’t look at me when you’re sitting along the gutter in your cardboard hut. No sirree.

And you know what else? This article is riddled with poor sentence structure. Take, for example, “No sirreee.” That’s not a sentence. There’s no verb. It’s not even spelled right. And you’ll start doing that, writing sentences without verbs. I know you will. And I’ll be blamed. Life is soooo unfair.

Holy cow, I just realized something. I’m reading this article as I type it. Dang, I’m a hypocrite. I suppose I could type with my eyes closed, but I pity the editors. Maybe memory suppression… that’s the key. I did not read this article. I wrote it, but I did not read it. If you ask me, I’ll say I have no recollection of its contents. Let me practice: Article? What article? I don’t write for RYE! I don’t even know how to write! Heck, I’m blind and deaf and mute and can’t tie my own shoes! In fact, I’m not human. I’m a caterpillar in disguise. NOW, BACK OFF!

Seriously, shoo, off with you, go away. There’s a great article about talking sock puppets right below this one. I’m not playing around here. Stop reading. If you don’t stop reading, I’ll avoid all eye contact with you and scowl when I see you in the hallways. Maybe one day I’ll throw a little wad of paper at you. Maybe I’ll call you by your last name instead of your first…or maybe I’ll even call you by the wrong name. Or maybe I just won’t talk to you at all because I don’t know you.

Now I know what you’re thinking, person-who-shouldn’t-be-reading-this: “You’re nuts.” Well, I’m not nuts. I’m just in a weird mood right now. No, it’s not drug-induced or due to sleep deprivation. Okay, maybe it is due to sleep deprivation, but it can’t all be. Oh shoot, I forgot to take my medicine. Maybe it is drug-induced, or rather, the lack of drugs induced. Hey, not THAT kind / of drugs! Okay, I’m going to change the subject now…

So… are you still there? You must think I’m horribly amusing. Or maybe you’re thinking I’m horribly disturbing and are just reading it for the shock factor, like how people watch Tom Green because his creepiness/weirdness is both fascinating and incredibly troubling at the same time. Or maybe you aren’t thinking anything at all… in which case, you are dead. That’s not good. Get yourself to a hospital, man. Eek, maybe you’re dead because you read my article. I could be sued. I wonder if they’d publish a little “I’m not responsible” blurb if I wrote it at the bottom. Hmmmm… not worth the effort.

You know what? I need a life. There are a bazillion things I’m supposed to be doing now, and I’m not doing a single one of them (besides breathing and other involuntary functions). Yup, I’m writing an article that I’m telling people not to read. How pointless is that? I think my life just officially lost all meaning. Oh well, I’ll be over it in an hour.

Oh my gosh, you’re still reading this?!

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