"Never read the comments," a friend whose name routinely gains mention in both online and print media once said to me.
"How come?" I asked.
"It's been my experience that for every comment that makes me smile, there are a dozen that will piss me off or hurt my feelings. It's not worth it."
The aforementioned advice reentered my mind early yesterday morning after I'd received word that Thought Catalog, a popular online magazine boasting nearly 30 million monthly pageviews, was going to publish a piece I'd written about Tina Fey's proposed Mean Girls musical.
"Never read the comments," I reminded myself. "It's not worth it."
Heeding those words, I went about my business.
Until this morning.
I was perusing Facebook from my bed, getting my daily dose of bullshit and baby pictures, when a post from Thought Catalog appeared on my feed.
"One little peek..." I thought and clicked the link.
"Psh, comments schmomments," I told myself. "That was nothin'."
Next, I launched Twitter.
"Wow, they love it," I whispered to myself. "I have won the Internet."
Feeling as though my friend may have unfairly judged the people of the World Wide Web, I popped open a fresh browser window, pointed it in the direction of Thought Catalog and tore down to the bottom of the page, where nine comments awaited me.
"'TO BITS.'" I quoted the reader aloud. "In all caps. Holla."
I scrolled to the next comment.
"I love Anna Kendrick!" I screeched.
"I fully support that humble suggestion," I replied before moving on.
"No, silly," I began. "This was written way before tha..."
I stopped myself.
"Pick your battles, Corey," I breathed, continuing down the page.
"Have you ever heard of makeup?" I pecked into the reply box. "And I only cast one measly person from Glee."
Again I stopped myself, deleted the reply and scrolled deeper.
"What the heck is whitewashing?" I wondered aloud. "And Glee doesn't suck. Blaine, Mr. Schue, Quinn? They're like, really cool."
My jaw tightened as I sank further down the page.
"Then name someone better," I wanted to type. "And you're obviously not April Ludgate. April Ludgate would never post something so dim-witted on the Internet. You should really grow a brain."
I stabbed out the words "You know what, guest, you all the way suck!" and slammed my laptop shut.
"Fuck the Internet!" I said aloud just as my phone jolted to life next to me with a text message from my friend Aaron.
"'Into it,'" I smiled. "Comments schmomments." And I reopened my computer.