I made it, somehow. A few chickens here,
a few goats there, and I made it.
See, all you have to do is drink some
blood, and they’ll love you online. I’m a
serious, real mythical figure online, even if
the picture isn’t either flattering or accurate.
I made it, even if the name isn’t fair. I mean,
Chupacabras? Goat sucker? Someone probably
mispronounced it as “sucker.” As if I didn’t have
enough bad press, enough reason to stay inside,
enough fear of being social, ever.
Then I get a public name like that,
even though my friends call me “Stan.”
Wasn’t Stan good enough? No, they had to
insult my already fragile ego, and then
paint that picture. Want to know why my eyes
are reportedly red? Stress, crying.
Thanks, humanity. You did this to me,
made me scared to show my face. But you
made me internet famous. I guess it’s not all bad.
Maybe I’ll get eventual sponsorship and not
just exposure from it, but it hasn’t happened yet.
Thanks, humanity, for the self-esteem issues.
But you do you.