a trolls guid to public service

and a bell end ballad

Out on the trail with Zeke a couple of weeks back we were rolling slow and easy around the dirty basin.

It was the first fine Sunday morning.

There were people out everywhere.

Good morning!

We called out cheery greetings all along the way.

Pretty much everyone we encountered was happy, smiling, holding their dogs.

Thank you! We’d call out as we passed.

Thank you too! They’d call out to us.

It was all very Canadian.

As we made our way through Sacktown we encountered a large group.

Good morning! We called.

YOU NEED A BELL ON THOSE THINGS WHERE THE HELL IS YOUR BELL?

Thi may have been an approiate response had we snuck up on them. We hadn’t.

We were driving towards them.

Not seeing any canes I stopped.

Who here is blind?

The mouthy old tosser looked like the kind of guy who starched his sheets.

His jeans were pressed and he pressed on.

You need to ring your bell to warn us despite the fact we saw you.

He admitted it.

You said it yourself. You saw us.

That wasn’t enough. He asked his buddies to help surround us.

I’m callin’ the mounties. These guys didn’t have a bell. I want them to get a ticket.

His friends looked at their feet and shook their heads in shame.

Oh Larry. Don’t.

Larry looked wild. He looked like a retired middle management bureaucrat. A man short on power and desperate for control, he had the airs of a DMV employee who would fine people for confusing there and their.

His friends looked sad. They had heard this tune before. Larry likely has ruined many an outing with his desperation. But, a friend is a friend and Larry was their arsehole, their troll.

Poor Larry likely knew he was being an arsehole. He didn’t want to relent.

C’mon Larry I began as I started to roll away.

I didn’t want Larry to feel like the bad guy here.

I wanted to help him. He needed something real to be angry about, so I sang Larry a song.

I sung the words to a number he likely knew from his youth.

Put your head on my shoulder… I crooned.

Only I didn’t sing those words.

It was a more naughty, pornographic version of the song.

Dear reader, I’ll let you use your imagination on what I sang but the word ‘head’ was substitued with ‘mouth’ and ‘shoulder’ was substituted with…

Well, I trust you dear reader.

I’m sure you can come up with a nasty place suitable for Larry’s mouth…

Larry and his friends were outraged and Zeke and I were out of reach.

I kept taunting them with disgusting, graphic words.

Oh dear reader I sung them beautifully and in doing so I became the bigger arsehole. I became mean and obscene. In doing so Larry and his friends, once separated by Larry’s idiocy were united in their outrage at my terrible behaviour.

Larry got what he wanted.

He got to feel right and righteous.

His friends got to support Larry in feeling like a victem.

And my trolling?

That was a public service.

I let Larry off the hook.

Better still I gave him something real to complain about while relieving him from the shame of being an arse.

So remember my friends, if someone is insisting on making an arse of themselves by taking an idiotic stance, give them something real to complain about.

Then be on your merry way.

Love the people who love you

And fuck the fucking fuckers.