You are the personification of everything that’s wrong with the internet. Your mere existence in the IRC world is a blight on the digital landscape, a pustulent sore on the otherwise pristine face of human interaction. Your incessant, mind-numbingly vapid chatter is like a never-ending barrage of verbal diarrhea, spewing forth the most banal and intellectually vacuous tripe imaginable. You’re the reason why the mute button was invented and the epitome of why we need an “ignore” feature in real life.
Your conversational skills are so atrocious, they make a caveman’s grunts seem like Shakespearean sonnets. You couldn’t string together a coherent sentence if your life depended on it, and yet, you have the audacity to pollute the chat with your stream of consciousness, as if your random, unsolicited musings hold any value or interest for the rest of us.
You are the human equivalent of spam email—irrelevant, unwanted, and utterly devoid of wit or charm. Every time you type, it’s like watching someone set fire to a library of knowledge, all in the name of sharing your inane, unsolicited thoughts on the most mundane of subjects. Your ability to suck the very lifeblood out of a conversation is a dark art, one that would make even the most accomplished conversational vampire weep with envy.
Your lack of empathy and social awareness is matched only by your boundless narcissism. You treat the chat room as if it’s your personal echo chamber, where every keystroke you make is a profound contribution to the human race. But in reality, you’re just a sad, lonely soul desperately seeking validation from the anonymity of the web because you know deep down that in the real world, you’re as bland and forgettable as the white noise that accompanies a broken radio.