Three Strikes and We're Out

So, as some people know, I sometimes take the emails or experiences or stories of friends (and audience members) and I post them here on the "middlespace live." I try to make the postings "not directly identifiable" in most cases. Often I embellish the stories and I sometimes I'm even nice enough to fix your nasty syntax and spelling errors.

But, and holy shit, I am really done with your edits! I've now had several people ask me to edit my postings so they don't get in some kind of perceived trouble. What?!

Here're the problems I'm having with this:

1. People should know by now that if they send it, it might get posted. That's not evident yet? Maybe I find your stories interesting, poignant, and funny. Or, maybe I find them just plain stupid (but, I'm trying to be nice).
2. People should know that I make most of this shit up (see disclaimer). You may write, "The sun is yellow" and I may post, "These sores on my bum cause such a horrible itch." See how that works?
   
3. Nobody is reading this crap. Just like nobody was listening to the podcast. Just like nobody listens to the records. Just like nobody looks at the pictures. There are more than six and a half billion people on this planet. No one really gives a shit.
   

It was one thing when Made Up Edit Requester #1 asked for me to make specific edits. It didn't really surprise me. I believe this person runs a little safe nowadays. I thought, "That's OK. I can do that."

But when Hypothetical Edit Requester #2 asked, I found myself somewhere between Shocked Avenue and Horrified Street. I was all like, "Whaaaaat?!" [ <-- in the manner of Philly Boy Roy ]

Lastly, when Not-Real Edit Requester #3 asked, I just ran out of steam (however there was enough steam for this rant). I had to say, "C'mon!" [ And get another few beautiful positions out of the rant ]

Look people, this is the pros. This is a long-running, award-winning, income-generating Web Log. I've got a contract. I have minimum positions to maintain. I drop product placements for sweet, sweet cash (posting from Mayorga Coffee Roasters, Rockville!).

There is a bellwether though. And when the bellwether says, "Oooh. Can you edit that part about my herpes because my boss might sneeze on his computer and land on your site and murder me because of the, you know, the herpes thing?" then I'm closing shop. I am 2/3rds ready to close this thing up.

We're sitting at two strikes, bottom of the ninth, one run back. Read carefully: If you send it. It might get posted in some part if not whole.

Get off my phone!