I will not attend your event because you have given me no indication of what your event actually is. You have used a title for your event that contains no keywords. It is so cool that it no longer has any meaning. Furthermore, you have advertised ten to fifteen acts in your event. However, I recognized none of them; though 3 of them are certainly of Irish heritage. You have provided absolutely no points of reference for me to generate any expectations whatsoever. You should be congratulated for so deftly positioning your event within the ever-so-subtle realm of… Obscurity! (Exclamation mark added for increased irony.)
I will not attend your event because of your text. Let me clarify. Every piece of text in your marketing is uppercase. All the text in your email or Facebook message, it’s all uppercase. I am really glad you did this. If it had been title case or even sentence case (you know, grammatically correct and all that), I would not have even noticed you existed. However, you used the wrong font and I just can’t support this Helvetica bullshit you’re pitching me.
I will not attend your event because I received your email promoting your upcoming event. However, here’s the thing : I’ve already unsubscribed from your mailing list many times… You don’t know this because, upon deeper inspection, I noticed that you’ve got a faulty unsubscribe function on your spamvertising-ridden website. If I were you, I would think this “error” grants me some kind of plausible deniability should anyone ever have the spare time to royally kick me in my slack ass. If you actually contributed to culture as much as you leech off of it, I would still not attend your events, for there would yet be more talent within a diarrhea-stained foot stool that is missing 1 leg.
I will not attend your event because you used the word “awesome” in the marketing of your event. 9/11 was awesome. Five minutes of an hour-long George Carlin routine is awesome. Those are two extremes of awesome that I have witnessed. Unless you’ve literally reinvented a wheel and it’s functional, your event simply does not track on that scale.
I will not attend your event because I do not live in Buffalo and your Whitesnake cover band (so cleverly called Coverdale) offers me no incentive to visit Buffalo.
I will not attend your event because your event takes place in a sports bar. Sports bars are not known for their taste in cultural programming. Actually, that’s not true. They’re very well known for their taste in cultural programming. Thank you for choosing a venue that says so much about your event.
I will not attend your event because I do not pay to watch a rehearsal… Oh, that wasn’t a rehearsal last time?… Oh… Really?… Hmph.
I will not attend your event because you chose to have the William Tell Overture auto-play when your web page loaded without providing me the ability to mute Rossini’s popular but obnoxious composition. I believe this needs no further explanation.
I will not attend your event because you have indicated nothing original about your event. Nobody could point a finger at your event and say, “There. See? Like that.” Except me, just now, but I am merely demonstrating. Given the choice of attending your event or the equally sans originale event the next night or the identically carente de originalidad event the night after that, I have opted to write these words. While they might leave the reader with a bitter aftertaste, they do not even approach the magnitude of stale dyspepsia that you have chosen to generate in an unwitting and undeserving audience.
I will not attend your event because… it’s me, okay? I’m the asshole. Right? I’m full of shit. I gotta open my big fat mouth and spew this acid at you. I’m a dragon. I’m an fuckin’ acid-spewing dragon. With my attitude and my opinions. It’s me. This is me: “Blah blah blah. I’m a fuckin’ dick with my big fuckin’ mouth.” You’re right! You’re absolutely right! I’M A FUCKIN’ ASSHOLE!… Y’know what?… Just keep sending me invites. Just piss me off even more, send me all your goddam’ invites… Fuck. Me.
