Satire/Humor

What Do I Have to Do to Get a Troll Around Here?

I’m Getting Discouraged

“Nobody watches you harder than the people who can’t stand you.” ~ Miranda Priestly

Maybe I’m asking for too much, too soon. I’ve only been writing on Medium for two months but come on! I’ve been a writer my whole life! Doesn’t that count for something? Sure, most of my work is in literary journals, newspapers and print magazines where trolls don’t thrive. But now I’m putting myself out there. On the Internet — where trolls go to wreak their special brand of havoc. I am stomping all over their turf. Why haven’t they noticed me? Am I not good enough? I’m starting to feel like a loser here.

Many writers lament over their trolls that read everything they write, leaving a wake of snarky, hurtful comments. I’m green with envy. Why can’t that be me!

I admit I may be overstepping, but I don’t want any ole troll. Lazy ones need not apply. I want the relentless ones that comb over my articles and stories, waiting to pounce on the smallest thing and blow it up on every social medium platform they have. I want to be made fun of. Scoffed at. Made a mockery of. See! Right there, I just put three incomplete sentences in a row and ended them all with a preposition. Doesn’t anyone have anything to say about that? And I call myself an editor! Ha!

I’m laying myself out here naked in the middle of the information superhighway and pleading to get run over! Anybody there? Where’s all the traffic?

I want that little green button to light up with triple digits. I want my comment section clogged with character assassinations, petty gripes and out-and-out vileness. Rip me to shreds until I’m a pile of confetti. I dream of my reading times soaring as you labor tirelessly over my every word — just looking for something to bitch about.

If I must, I will hold your hand and give you some ideas … Sigh … Must I do everything?

Anybody notice my profile picture? What is that, twelve filters? What am I hiding? Can’t someone say that just proves how inauthentic I am? An egomaniac? Someone afraid to admit who they really are?

Maybe we can look back at my original Medium profile picture. It’s Ernest Hemingway and I, just hanging out. What exactly was I trying to imply here? Was I comparing myself to him? Do I actually think I’m even in his league? Or was it a blatant attempt to show off my boots?

Did anyone see the short fiction story I wrote, “Book Signing Blues?” I mean, it certainly isn’t short. It’s a seventeen-minute read for crying out loud! Can someone say false advertising? Who do I think I am? Seems awfully ostentatious to expect anyone to spend that much time enjoying my work. A total narcissistic move!

I threw in a mention that I loved University of Michigan football in “Funny Names Still Make Me Snicker”. I thought for sure some Ohio State troll would pick that up and run with it. I was expecting a bunch of boo-birds. I didn’t even get a squawk. Must I mention I am a die-hard Lions fan as well? If that doesn’t get the ball rolling, I don’t know what will.

Speaking of the funny names article, where are the haters calling me out for making fun of people with name disabilities. I mean, they can’t help it. Blame the parents, not the victims. Can’t someone start a movement here? Have a petition drive to toss me out of Medium? Where are the right-fighters?

What about my satire, “Plumber Gets His Moment to Shine”? Surely someone needs to mention bathroom humor is a pathetic way to get reads. Can no one point out my career is in the toilet? Put me on blast!

Speaking of lame pieces, I’ve got to mention, “Love Letters to My Neighbors”. Does anyone think it odd I seem to believe making childlike chalk drawings in my driveway makes any kind of impact on society during a pandemic. Talk about being grandiose! The nerve!

And then there’s my flash fiction, “Belly Flops”. Nobody is outraged the teens were embarrassed by the woman in the restaurant breastfeeding at the table next to them? Good God, I was hoping, no praying, women would lactate over that curd and claim I’m trying to clog up the flow of the feminist movement. Where are my female empowerment trolls?

There’s plenty more material, just check out my profile page. It’s a smorgasbord for the nay-sayers. Someone puhleez, start a feeding frenzy!

Isn’t this piece enough to prove I’m an attention-seeking opportunist selling myself out for a couple of nickels? For the love of God, can someone do me a favor and try and shut me up? Shame me! Make me famous! Make sure everyone knows what a jerk I am.

Trust me, trolls, if you harass me, I will give you what you want. I’d never ignore you. I will argue. Banter. Beg you to stop. Plead my case to anyone reading. I will continue churning out drivel. Your parent’s basement will no longer be a boring place. I will overreact and interact.

Twenty. Four. Seven.