A Neopet's Revenge

By the 50th time I had tried to give my blog some attention, like any other absentee parent attempting to do the bare minimum, I decided I hated everything creative I had ever done and I gave it up for a while. I regretted having a blog in the first place. I wondered what blog control might look like for people online who should really never have blogs and oh god why did I have a blog I just created yet another reader-less burden on the system. No one to look after it. No one to love it. I googled “is retroactive blog abortion a thing and how do I get one?” then, “is retroactive blog abortion just murder?” I thought about contacting Ted Cruz for a little insight on a blog’s right to life, before the clock strikes midnight at the Republican National Convention, and he returns to being a slightly-melted decorative garden gnome in George W.’s living room.

I read way too much horrible internet content and thought “why am I not contributing to this?” I missed my blog. I realized it was coming up on its 1-year birthday and I thought about posting something. You know, just to let it know I remembered it. Then my thoughts turned to the worst: What if I had neglected my blog for so long I didn’t know how to write a post anymore? What if The Littlest Dick really was dead?

And that’s where the metaphor stops. Of course I can still sort of vaguely string words together. My blog is not an unwanted child, it’s just a motherfucking Neopet. I left my blog to languish and starve like many a forgotten Neopet. I didn’t feed it mean words. I didn’t give it any of my feelings to play with. I let it sit in its anthropomorphized destitution and boredom, existing only when concerned relatives and friends sought it out once they got bored with cat videos.

And as we all remember, despite their cuddly exterior and general futility, Neopets are survivors. It’s well known, and confirmed by this FAQ section on their page, Neopets will literally never die. I’ve reached out to Neopet support to find out if they delete inactive accounts, and to say that I’m eagerly awaiting their reply would be a severe understatement.

So yes, I think The Littlest Dick is like a Neopet. Huggable and harmless on the outside, starving and desperate for attention on the inside. Angry, and coming for your bandwidth, bitch. Like a Paris Hilton meme on your Instagram: something you’d never thought you’d see again and sort of hoped was gone for good, but kind of sort of love a little bit? The Littlest Dick is back again with a Neopet-ish vengeance, terrible mixed metaphors intact.