The Triumphant Return

So it's been a while, my good audience. Yes, I'm still addressing you. After some extended time where I felt neither motivated nor creative enough to post whatever I'm thinking to this amazing and indiscriminately-accessible medium (the internet, for those of you struggling already), Zeppelin is back. I feel no shame or regret in the almost-3 year lapse of content, and I'm not qualifying a damn thing, so let's just get right into it. Here's what got me back into the self-publication groove, what reminded me that I do in fact, still have it.

This is a conversation. On teh internet.

MAtt
Don't judge me

Tyler
i judge you as a trendy blackberry-carrying asshole. grow balls.

MAtt
I need it for my job, the dig is too easy

Tyler
excuses are like assholes. like trendy blackberry-carrying assholes.

MAtt
iPhones are trendy, BlackBerrys are ugly. There's nothing trendy about a BlackBerry.

Where it gets interesting. All subjects of humiliation are henceforth to be kept anonymous. Except for MAtt, of course.

Feminine Object of Scorn:
boys.
stop.
peace.
:)

MAtt
[FEMININE OBJECT OF SCORN] DO NOT FUCK WITH ME

Feminine Object of Scorn:
MAtt why are such an asshole?
fuck you dude

MAtt
I was playing along with the "boys stop". Don't be sensitive.

Feminine Object of Scorn:
WELL ALL FUCKING CAPS DEFINITELY TOOK THE FUCKING SENSE OF HUMOR OUT OF IT.
just like that did.

Tyler
piss off. this is the most classic form of strengthening there is. there is nothing more timeless and respectable than masculine competition, two men doing their damndest to cut the other down. the battering of ram's head against ram's head, the construction of elaborate nests besting your neighbor's to attract female birds, the list goes on. and personal berating through the relatively anonymous medium of social networking sites is our generation of young men’s means of doing so. and i'll be damned if i let you take that away from us. i'll be damned.

MAtt
I miss Dynosite.
And I don't miss prissy high school girls.
And I still hate you Tyler.

Feminine Object of Scorn:
oh yeah MAtt you know me so well. I'm definitely fucking prissy with all this cursing. Very lady-like, I must say.
You still act like an immature high school boy.
So shut the fuck up.

Tyler
yes, yes, let the animosity breed. it's all like a nice cool breeze up my skirts.

MAtt
I misspelled cunt. When the name of the conversation is "fuck you friend" don't butt in and expect anything but a "fuck you."

Tyler
word.

Feminine Object of Scorn:
tyler you're just mad cause i never let you hook up with me.

Uh-oh.

Tyler
oh no no no. somebody just made a big mistake.
[Feminine Object of Scorn], i'm going to give you the opportunity to apologize for that most regrettable last comment of yours in the spirit of what used to be our friendship. i certainly hope you'll take advantage of this offer and recognize a few certain things. firstly, that what you said was uncalled for and unsolicited, seeing as how you had absolutely nothing to do with this conversation. secondly, that your remark was, for lack of a better word, cheap, and stands as a pretty good indication of what measures you'll resort to when you feel slighted by someone on the internet (which in itself is pathetic, but not unusual enough to be it's own point). and finally, that in a game of insults and articulation, the objective being the public humiliation of the other party, you will lose. horribly.
this game will commence in 5 minutes unless you say "tyler, i'm very sorry and i'll never do it again." you have my demands.

Feminine Object of Scorn:
ok, i'll make things a little more private for you.
check your email

MAtt
Tyler can be articulate, I'm just rude. You're fucking hideous. I can't imagine the messes that must be fucking your weather beaten cunt, though I suppose I don't pay attention to the girl in the drive-thru either.

Fuck private, bring it out bitch.

Feminine Object of Scorn:
MAtt, sweetie, I wasn't talking to you. Ass.

Tyler
the pathetic excuse for an explanation you left festering in my inbox was not at all what i meant by an apology. i made this whole thing quite simple for you, and yet you still can't help but interject your awkwardly formulated, and frankly incorrect, summary of this little confrontation.
firstly, everything i have to say is viewable on this picture wall. i hid nothing and deleted nothing. MAtt took no editorial liberties with anything i said either. one of my less endearing qualities: frank honesty when provoked.
secondly, you're entirely wrong about how i perceive you. i did value your friendship and even enjoyed talking to you all the way up to the point where you no longer needed my attention because you were getting it from many other sources. (MAtt: "getting it"-"sources": double entendre.) i am also not ashamed to admit that i considered the idea of being inside you. however, your insistence that i think of you as nothing but a hole to fuck is entirely misguided. you're not even that much.
tell me when you want it to stop.

Feminine Object of Scorn:
i'm not apologizng[sic]. call me immature. i don't care. i know i am. i'm only 17. damn. but i didn't like what you said the other night.

and excuse me for sending that email. i won't ever again for anything. better, how about lose my number, and i delete you here?

Tyler
your continuing inability to see the humor in this confrontation, and the irony of your replies, stuns me. how do you come up with this shit? it's fantastic!

MAtt
She's only 17! Leave her alone! I bet she's never said "treat me like an adult" before.

Tyler
oh, and you're losing, by the way.

Feminine Object of Scorn:
k

Tyler
damn, anything but nonchalance! that affords me absolutely no material!

MAtt
I don't know. I think that puts her about even with you. You better try harder to put her in her place.

So that's it. I hope you enjoyed it. If you didn't, don't lose faith just yet. This just seemed like it deserved to be accessible to all search engine crawlers and bored associates of mine. Stay tuned for more content hot off the presses.