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THE CHOPPING BLOCKTHE CHOPPING BLOCK
By Ronia Blake

THIS IS MY DUTY. Yes, I owe it to everyone to have my own column. Oh, stick a sock in it. I hear you. “How UNBELIEVABLY narcissistic!” Maybe so. Fuck you. Bitch about it in YOUR column. I actually have valid reasons for making such an inflammatory statement. Pay attention…
#1. I owe myself - I LOVE being inflammatory. Period.
#2. I owe Wendy - This might keep me busy so I’ll stop sneaking into Wendy’s laptop to insert “editorial comments” like “Wendy is a pedophile” into her articles in hopes that no one will catch it before it goes to print. I SWEAR, you can still call it “artistic license”, even when it’s taken with someone else’s art.
#3. I owe YOU! - Look, it’s no secret that there are two camps. The “I like Ronia just fine” camp, and the “Ronia really, really needs to die” camp. Bottom line, every one of you are gonna read every God-damned word. The supporters will read it to be, well, supportive. The rest of you will read it just so you can get together and talk about how lame my column is, issue after issue. “What a bitch.”. “What a psycho.”. Blah, blah, blah. Well, grab a pen, ‘cause here’s where it gets fun. I WANNA HEAR ALL OF IT! Got an axe to grind? Send me the details. Got something venomous to get off of your chest? Can’t wait to hear about it. Got some seething gossip? As long as I can verify that it’s legit (no, I did NOT say true), and no names are used, fork it over. Got something objective and wise to impart? Not interested. Email me at Homewrecker@dontmesswithtexas.com.

Let’s review…
1. Get pissed
2. Contact me
3. Hope I found you interesting and/or entertaining enough to devote my next column to your “problem”.

THE CHOPPING BLOCKWho’s the narcissist now?

One quick clarification…

This column was not originally intended to be strictly about gossip. Its intent was to be an abstract commentary of the goings-ons in the seedy underbelly of the infamous 6th Street/Red River scene. A community service provided by yours truly to catch you up on what you missed on nights where alcohol poisoning forced you to stay at home. I see and hear some funny shit around here. It must be shared. The thing is, what I HEAR is often much more colorful than what I actually SAW. Voila! Gossip. Deal with it, kiddies. Gossip is good. First and foremost, it lets you know who your friends are. Second, it lets you know which of your friends has the most elaborate imagination. But best of all, gossip is a labor-saver. You can spend Friday night at home getting stoned and watching COPS, and, depending on the “storyteller” on shift, by Happy Hour on Sunday, everyone will “swear they heard from a reliable source” that you were blowing your congressman in the bathroom at Emo’s while the Riverboat Gamblers were sound-checking. Ta Da! Your 15 minutes of fame without breaking a sweat. By adhering to a few simple guidelines, I find gossip fairly painless when it’s my turn on the chopping block.

If it’s GOOD – I did it.
If it’s BAD – Jaylen did it.
If it involves your boyfriend – No Comment

There you go. Until next time, boys and girls, Fuck You.


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