If your guests can't appreciate the brilliance that is Susan Powter, then don't invite them over. Ever.

"Sounds like Donald Duck getting raped"

"Listen, I want to like you - I really do. But let me just say that you've some fucking nerve to hijack the Weblog Awards for the purpose of feeding your embarrassing self-promotion crusade. I remember when blogging was about creativity and personal expression, a soundboard for those desperately seeking someone - anyone - who'd listen. You've perverted these values with Brat Boy School - a masturbatory blemish on the face of the gay blogosphere."

"Toby", you wrote that in your "calculated evisceration" of Bratboy School some time ago.

I realize any response to those words would probably be redundant since many people have attempted to make you aware of how un-needed you are in the world, but I can't resist in the face of blind conceit from a spoiled brat like you (no pun intended).

I can't really stop laughing when I read your words, not because you're funny, but because you're so incredibly sad. Your writing is kind of like Taradise, but flaccid, Sedaris-lite, and more of an embarrassment to the gay community than any fake underwear twins who were ghost-written into infamy.

You accuse others of being shameless in their self-promotion, when it is you who is so sadly desperate to be famous. Why else would you have a blog?

Are you jealous because the best you can do is get on the blog log (that's a real honor) of the entertainment/penny-saver online edition of The Post? Or did you really think your teenage-cum-drunk-twenties ramblings were going to ignite some sort of fire of adoration, making you famous for being just you?

The only thing more pathetic than a reality television star is a blogger.

Your idol, Camille Paglia, would surely lump your livejournal in with the rest of the blog that she described as "vomit of the keyboard." Sure, you have some supporters, but people also bought Paris Hilton's record. Hell, you probably have the entire Britney Spears catalogue! These examples make it clear that much of what could be seen as "popular" can also be of little to no substance.

You say blogging is a desperate hand reaching out to anyone who will listen. What is it that you have to say besides regaling us once again with how impressed you are with yourself? I don't know what is more frightening, your assertions that you actually have a mental disorder like body dysmorphia, or the fact that you actually believe that a weblog is a valid form of expression?

What's even more disingenuous is the fact that you aren't even "you". You lead a very public life under a pseudonym. How very Candace Bushnell. You would certainly be the "Carrie" of your world; you have a nice enough body and a fucked up face like Sarah Jessica Parker. Why not give your real name? Is it that you can’t stand behind your words? Are all of your stories fake? How are we to know, besides glowing affirmations on your behalf by Agatha, who could also be a fake? Lonelygirl15 anyone?

I guess the point of responding to you is to vent frustration. You really don’t seem to get that while you could be very impressed with your writing, as most young writers are, you really come off as quite an annoying, stereotypical little cunt who has his crabby/snarky pants on because when he finally got to the party, he realized that he is not unique. Others have been sad, mean, drunk little gay guys who push weights and change boyfriends a fast as your brands of bronzer long before you posted your first diary entry from your dorm room.

I sincerely doubt my words will have any influence on your blogging and I don't really care. It's just important to call spades spades, so in summary:

You're a pretty damn shitty writer with an overdone schtick and zero credibility. You also look more ugly than ever in your Halloween costume. I was unsure as to whether or not that could even be possible.

It's like watching Fred Phelps protest the funerals of service men and people with AIDS. Sure he has a right to his opionion, but it's the face of pure sickness. Camille, you're a sad, sad man.

What's the surest sign you're doing something right in the blogging world?

When you start generating comments like this. Good job "Toby"!

BTW Camille -

Kinda ironic you bitch and moan about "hiding" behind a screen name, then proceed to use one yourself. That was the one thing that actually made me laugh in your whole little diatribe.

Other than that - whole lotta smoke (read: empty invective) w/o any actual fire (read: substance). Camille would be more disappointed in that than anything.

You know, in France they don't circumcise their chickens. Just sayin'

Wouldn't it have been easier for this "Camille" to have just said, "This blog is kinda shitty?"
I mean, why hide behind a fake name when you talk shit? I see things like this and refer to my regular response, "Were you saying something? Oh, sorry, I was pretending you weren't there."

It is kind of amusing when a cascade of pseudonyms start fighting with each other.