Since plagiarism in the ‘sphere (douche alert!) is spreading faster than Madonna’s legs (early 90s pop culture reference alert!) I thought that I would do my part to help…
It can’t be easy to be a plagiarizer. You have to be lacking in anything resembling a unique thought in your head, and have to be so bereft of common sense that you do something with absolutely no benefit that you are certain to be caught doing.
So, my plagiariffic little friends, I’ve created a blog post that you can easily steal and customize to suit your own inexplicable needs.
The sun/moon looked more beautiful than ever, as I slowly walked down the street/beach/outer ring of the International Space Station.
It made me feel proud to be an American/Martha Stewart’s dog/a Hasidic Jew.
It had been months since I’d been dumped by D/T/Q/R/$/Whitney Port. I was doing better. I was! Even as my lips said those words, my heart/soul/left nipple knew better. (My right nipple was still in the dark.)
A breeze blew up and I fixed my blonde flowing locks/red curls/fez. He/she used to do that for me. But that was a long time ago.
“Romeo and Juliet” by Dire Straits/The Killers played loudly/softly/kind of, you know, in between on my ipod/walkman/the voices in my head.
I missed his/her touch/caress/massive erection.
I kept walking.
I kept missing.
I knew that I would never act on it/an episode of “The Big Bang theory.”
And that was OK.
I headed home with an overwhelming feeling that I would meet someone else/realization that I had done the right thing/the trots.