Tuesday, June 28, 2005

Stalker U.?

When you're at an elite level in society and admired by thousands as your superiors are, there are times, sadly, when our admirers get too close. Like most celebrities, the people you wish you were have found ourselves, at times, being the target of low-class detritus who become insensed at the writings in our bi-weekly missives.

As important as this blog is to your feckless existence, Pinhead Nation provides a reason for the wretched to climb out of bed every morning, put on his paper-hat and report to his work station at the the drive-thru. Not surprising, most of our stalkers hail from the dirty end of Commonwealth Avenue at Boston University. While we enjoy the good life, sipping champagne and smoking quality cigars, on occasion we witness one these admirers hiding behind a bush wearing a sad look that only a Boston College rejection letter can create.


Many Boston University alums, like "Gord", have been known to hide in the shadows or stalk your superiors on-line long after their shift at Wendy's is over.

Though having clandestine and covetous "devotees" would be troubling to many of you great unwashed, having a higher intellect and worthier existence provides your superiors with the necessary disposition to chortle at the obsession possessed by our adherents. Like mucus on society's mustache, our friends at Boston University stand out and prove themselves to be a whimsical escape towards bufoonery.


Even middle-class rabble can find humor in the sad obsession owned by Boston University fans towards Pinhead Nation.

I was speaking to a dear collar-up chum of mine from my time on the Hill who happens to a professional in the field of psychiatric disorders. After a rather meritorious round of golf, we discussed their fascination with their betters and my doctor friend diagnosed the problem immediately.

It seems that due to feelings of inferiority created by a predilection to attend Boston College and their subsequent nonacceptance to the college due to neanderthalic intellect or social skills, a complex feeling of detestation persists that causes them to lash out at Boston College's cognoscenti. This sour feeling of rejection has overwhelmed their psyche and has left them with a bitter, yet at the same time, feebleminded view of those who were awarded admission to the school their covet.


Deep feelings of inadequacy force Pinhead Nation's stalkers to take rash actions to give themselves a release for their deep-rooted anger fueled by feelings of social worthlessness.

In the end, your superiors simply fill our flumes and chortle at their fascination while perusing BU's most recent graduation roster seeking the next generation of septic repairmen and animal control engineers. Perhaps someday these folks will step out of Pinhead Nation's shadow and begin to live a normal, albeit raffish, life.

- Collar Up.

DW


A gratuitous celebratory hockey photograph taken in this century.

13 Comments:

At 11:27 AM, Anonymous the shadow said...

While Alex may be a dope stalker, I don't know that he is any worse than that dope "eagles wingz" on the BC message board. I think "eagles wingz" may be a stalker of Patrick Eaves. I have never seen a bigger geek than "eagles wingz" on a message board. Either he/she is a puck bunny or a homosexual.

 
At 12:20 PM, Anonymous JuandeWater said...

Why would anyone ever read this piece of shit blog?

 
At 7:25 PM, Blogger Endless Mike said...

Well JuandeWater, a lower life form like yourself would read this fine blog to learn more about your various shortcomings. Burn!

 
At 7:10 PM, Blogger Pinhead Nation said...

Juandewater

To be honest, your superiors at Pinhead Nation are somewhat surprised a dolt like yourself can read. Do us all a favor and drown yourself.

PHN.

 
At 1:43 PM, Anonymous PoncedeLEON said...

I'm with Juan- this is a seriously weak site.

You'd think someone interested in starting and maintaining a blog would be able to form interesting, entertaining, and coherent ideas.

Whoops. Maybe not.

This place is a festering, puss filled sore on an infected asshole.

 
At 8:26 PM, Blogger Pinhead Nation said...

Ponce

Maybe you and your "male friend" Juan should do something about that puss filled sore on your asshole. I suggest Astroglide.

Anyhow, thanks for reading. As always, input from a semi-retarded dolt is always appreciated by your superiors.

 
At 11:04 AM, Anonymous PoncedeLEON said...

Fortunately for me, I don't have to claim ownership of the sore. You created it. A trip to the doctor may be in order.

Hey, I threw together a pretty decent couple lines on the absolute retardation running rampant on this site- but sure, *I'm* the idiot. Whatever helps you sleep at night, bro.

Meanwhile, this site will continue to bore, suck, and not be read by anyone with more than two brain cells, myself included (except to check back on your undoubtedly pathetic rejoinder to this comment).

God, please, just stop. Now. Just hit "erase blog."

 
At 11:37 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

 
At 12:00 PM, Blogger Pinhead Nation said...

Ponce

Again, thanks for reading! Check back soon!

 
At 6:18 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

 
At 1:00 PM, Blogger Endless Mike said...

There's nothing like a troll who creates a Blogger username for the sole purpose of commenting on other people's work. Ponce and Juan deserve a Bud Light commercial dedicated to them and their "genius".

 
At 12:53 PM, Blogger Pinhead Nation said...

Kuntjob

What you meant to say was Pinhead Nation owns you and Endless Mike is your Daddy.

Carry on my (possibly) retarded friend.

PHN

 
At 12:04 AM, Blogger Endless Mike said...

"I mean really, who gives a hairy beanbag about all this boring-ass shit regarding your stupid ass New England network of colleges and stuff?"

Well KuntJob, considering how avidly you read and post here, it looks like you care about this fine blog. My only concern is that with all your blog posting, it leaves you very little time to care for your baker's dozen of illegitimate children.

 

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