In The Greatest Blog Post Of All Time
In the greatest blog post of all time, every debate was solved. At last, we solved rape culture, learning in the end it was, as defined by the dictionary, “a term used by those seeking approval on the internet, not by anyone who wants to help anyone else who has dealt with abuse or assault because when was the last time you heard of someone not being assaulted because a rapist or bully or asshole read something on the internet and thought, ‘hey, that’s right, I’m going to stop being a rapist or bully or an asshole because I just read an important article on the internet about rape culture which stopped me from being bad and I don’t think this article is a podium for the author to gain more Twitter followers at all.'”
In the greatest blog post of all time, we finally learned what it meant to be adult. And there was a number before each word we read. And it was wonderful.
In the greatest blog post of all time, there was so much relevant stuff about the lost girls in Africa, and just by the power of people talking about them on the internet those girls were, well, not saved, but they received over a million retweets in support. Just think of the retweets.
In the greatest blog post of all time, we learned how to let go, and when to hang on, and why love is hard, and what someone will never do again. And it was so true.
In the greatest blog post of all time, we got very scared. There was such a creepy tale told we didn’t know if it was real or made up. It began with “I saw this picture in my grandma’s basement of me as a child, and you’ll never believe what happened next,” and there was a picture of a face but the face was all static and it was the scariest thing you ever have seen believe you me.
In the greatest blog post of all time, all issues between genders were solved. Men became women with beautiful vaginas and women became men with hearty penises, and everybody knew how everybody else felt. Except we still somehow shit on transgendered people.
In the greatest blog post of all time, the comments were perfect. Most of them were written by those who understood English at a grade school level, so they were perfect for writing internet comments. Some corrected the grammar in the post and said it badly needed an editor, while others denigrated the author by saying they were fat or bald. Still others said “YES, THIS,” and claimed it was the best thing they had “EVER read.” And they were right.
In the greatest blog post of all time, Rihanna materialized in your living room wearing that dress with all the crystals. And she agreed to marry you as long as you could beat up Chris Brown, and so you fought Chris Brown and beat him and he went away crying. Then you flew to Barbados with Rihanna and got married to her, in the greatest blog post of all time.
In the greatest blog post of all time, we learned penis size doesn’t matter, except when it does.
In the greatest blog post of all time, the satire was so biting and true you didn’t even need anyone in the comments saying, “This is satire, guys” then others responding to that with, “You just don’t get the definition of satire” and then more in response to that, “Well, satire is supposed to be funny.” No, in the greatest blog post of all time, the satire rang true and broke down walls instead of creating more with poorly constructed ideas in the attempt to gain Twitter followers because the author was too afraid or ignorant to write anything earnest or original.
In the greatest blog post of all time, misogyny died and was replaced by “merryogyny,” a word made up in the greatest blog post and is now used worldwide as a way to describe men who love women so much they write blog posts defending them because there is no way a woman could stick up for herself or live in a way in which she will dictate who and what she will or will not be afraid of.
In the greatest blog post of all time, no one in the comments wished that the website in which they were commenting at would return to the old days when it was “actually good,” instead they kept reading, unlike others would have who had stopped and enjoyed another website like a normal person.
In the greatest blog post of all time, we made lists of every movie or album or song or comedy special or makeup routine or book we heard about in a thousand other blog posts. This time it was special.
In the greatest blog post of all time, you could reach out and touch the screen and when you returned your fingers to your lips your fingers tasted like Chipotle.
In the greatest blog post of all time, we learned how many times the author had kissed someone, or not kissed someone, or where it was that they first had sex, or how it was when they last had sex, and what it was like when they first had their heart broken, or what it was like when they first broke someone else’s heart. We learned all the details about everyone, and there was never need for diaries again.
In the greatest blog post of all time, we solved racism, so that was good.
In the greatest blog post of all time, we learned how many struggles there were for insomniacs and baristas. As it turns out, there are a specific number of struggles for them.
In the greatest blog post of all time, a volcano of discourse erupted a hot lava of productive ideas and thoughts, as opposed to what blog posts always do, create a vacuum of vitriol coated as obnoxious blather which solves no problems and cements prejudice and bias that some authors would purport as real discussion but is really, like I said, vitriol coated as obnoxious blather that solves no problems and cements prejudice and bias.
In the greatest blog post of all time, we found out the answers to all of life’s key questions like “Is There A God?” and “What Does It Feel Like To Have A Penis In Your Butt” and other questions relating to the penis and to God.
In the greatest blog post of all time, we saw pictures of cute animals and videos of people squeezing puss out of their bodies and entire wedding parties falling into lakes, and those parts were the most popular parts of the greatest blog post of all time.
In the greatest blog post of all time, there were so many clever lines about everything, like McSweeney’s clever, like B.J. Novak book of short stories clever, like so clever that the cleverness ate itself and became clover, that kind of clever that is green, and sheep eat it.
In the greatest blog post of all time, you learned what liking any art or person or thing, living or dead, meant about you. And it was so true. It was just so true.
In the greatest blog post of all time, all of your drive for nostalgia was satiated. 90s and 00s and 80s and 1200s, all of it, every single last piece of culture you remembered, or didn’t but seem to almost maybe kind of remember because you or your friend definitely had something like that, was recalled, and man it was so weird to remember that stuff you did before the time that is now.
After the greatest blog post of all time, world peace was achieved, hunger was no more, disease wiped out, overpopulation curtailed, nuclear weapons disarmed, school shootings erased, animal species restored, pollution eradicated, the oceans and lakes cleaned, disasters averted, human trafficking stamped out, child armies disbanded, fathers reunited with sons, mothers and daughters too, the Middle East became a fun place to live, garbage is now edible, all trees sprout money. No there are no jobs. Everyone has sex in a big pile. All kale has become pizza. 
