No One Really Gives A Shit About Local Author’s Cryptic Messages

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Buffalo, NY—When Stefon Diggs was a no show at the first day of mandatory mini camp Bills fans went nuts.
But rather than really explaining the reason for his absence the enigmatic receiver just put up this cryptic Instagram post:

I just be letting people cap. If them lies help you sleep better tell em big dawg . . .

The post only served to fuel further speculation. People were like who’s he letting cap? Who’s the big dawg getting all this sleep after they’ve been capping? Is it Josh Allen? Is it Sean McDermott? What does cap even mean?

Seeing the reaction and hoping to generate interest in his sagging career local author P.A.Kane took to his social media accounts to post some cryptic messages of his own. But like most of his digital musings no one seemed to give a shit. 

The 1.5 millionth ranked most popular Amazon author was disappointed by the lack of response since his cryptic messages employed proper sentence structure, punctuation and weren’t all that cryptic.

“I was listening to some tunes and the algorithm from my streaming service gifted me the soulful two minute Big Star gem: “I’m In Love With A Girl,” Kane said. “So I posted that simple beautiful line on my wall: I’m in love with a girl  . . . and nothing. No comments, no likes, no retweets—nothing. 

Kane was thinking that a statement such as I’m in love with a girl . . . would generate at least a few comments. Maybe something like: That’s so sweet- you’re married one million years a lot years and you’re still in love with your wife despite all the soul crushing nagging and her endless stories about birds nesting in your yard. Or maybe—What a wonderful thing for a man of your experience to find love again. Hope you have a good supply of those little blue pills—Softey. 

At the very least maybe some would have copy and pasted the line into a Google search and discovered the Big Star tune. And not the nu-contry abomination “In Love With A Girl,” by Gavin DeGraw, who might be the demon spawn of Tug McGraw and Ally McBeal.  

“But I wasn’t going to give up,” Kane said. “You don’t get to be the 1.5 millionth ranked author by taking a powder. So this time the cryptic message was even less cryptic and more mainstream, drawing from the classic Who song “Baba O’Riley”—It’s only teenage wasteland . . . and it got one measly comment.

The lack of response shook the local author and led him to momentarily question his life choices. He considered the never ending indifference with which the world received his art and mused that perhaps all the getting up early, all the obscure toiling, all the rejection was—was for nothing.

Then he dug deeper—to the deepest part of his being where he’s still handsome, where all the girls like him, where he could kick everybody’s ass and said to himself: Screw that. People are stupid. I’m the best fucking thing that hasn’t happened—yet. Everybody can suck it.

Kane has no further plans to post cryptic messages.