of a bumbaclot

I woke up this morning to this comment on my about page.

Needless to say, I was pissed. Surely I wouldn’t have 180+ followers if my writing was this shallow! At first I was going to allow it to appear and reply to him in the comments section, but then I realized that my Chetan Bhagat syndrome wasn’t going to allow it and I would HAVE to write a full blown letter to whatshisface about it. So here goes:

Dear Subrat,

(Is that even your real name?)

No, I don’t know what you mean, but thank you for your “sincere suggestion” that I write like Chetan Bhagat and am an aspiring Rakhi Sawant. I will take this as a compliment for two reasons:

1. I may find Chetan’s writing uninspiring but hell, he sells books and people make movies (and money) out of his brainfarts.
2. Rakhi thrives on negative publicity (such as this) but thrives nonetheless. By god Jejus ki kasam, I would give my other arm and my remaining teeth to appear on Big Boss. I could get a set of sparkly white dentures with all the money. (I’d also get breast implants but that’s besides the point.)

I’m a glass-half-full person, you know! Oh but how would you know? You didn’t bother to read anything other than my posts on the bad stuff Indian girls should not be talking about. Yes sir. I’ve recently learned to decipher my stats page and have been doing my homework. Gotcha, you bumbaclot!

At this point, I’m wondering this: if I were to write more posts about divinity and how Indian women are destined to pander to the whims of the men in their lives, would you then think I’ve grown up and/or graduated? Also, what upsets you more, the fact that I have sex or that I talk about it?

In my defense (rhetorically speaking), if you were to read between the lines lines that do not contain the words “sex”, “masturbation”, and “vagina”, and “naked”, you’d realize that I also write about independence, love, heartbreak, freedom, family, and the general travails of being a single woman living alone. I write about weirdos I come across (such as yourself). I write about pain and depression and thousands of other things that your birdbrain may not be able to process.
But I don’t blame you. With your head that far up your ass and your eyes shut as tight as a camel’s ass in a sandstorm, I don’t know if you ever can. So I just hope you’ll leave me and my 180+ followers alone so I can “find solace” in my “graceful writing” through which my readers can “gather good” about me.

Really looking forward to hearing from you.  Go on, say something that actually makes sense. I challenge you!

Also, I don’t mean to nitpick but I think you meant “posts”, not “blogs.”

~ Anawn

Do you agree with this guy? Do you think I am really that bad? What was the stupidest piece of non-criticism you ever received? Have you ever left messages like this behind? I’m listening!