>>> Casual Misanthropy
By staff writer JD Rebello
November 14, 2004

NARRATOR: 2003. A fateful year for JD Rebello. Rebello started as an angry young Rhode Islander with no direction, endlessly scrawling: “GAY DOUCHE” on buildings. He had run-ins with the law, breakdowns with his family, and disagreements with his dog over socio-political economics. A very common upbringing, but the anger was in him, yearning for a way out.

COURT SULLIVAN: JD represented a sort of neo-realism, a sense of misanthropic rage best captured by print, but rarely devoted to a website. That's what made me fall in love with him…in a strictly homosexual way.

MISSY (JD'S DOG): Woof. Woof.

NARRATOR: Court approached JD in the back of a warehouse with a simple ambition: to write for the funniest comedy website other than CollegeHumor.com, Maddox, Bill Simmons, and ShoahHolocaustFoundation.com. That dream was Points in Case.

ALEXIS (JD'S IMAGINARY GIRLFRIEND AT THE TIME): He at first rejected the notion. Writing for a website was so meaningless to him. But his life was going downhill.

“GOD: I think it's plenty clear JD's going to Hell.”

P. DIDDY: One night, me and the crew found JD kneedeep in a trough of pigshit screaming: “WHY CAN'T THOSE MOTHERFUCKERS STOP LEAVING STUPID AWAY MESSAGES?!?!?!?!” Even then, J-dawg had a dream to shut down those idiots misusing AIM.

NARRATOR: On September 32nd, 2003, JD began the column that changed his life: The Golden Rules of Instant Messenger. It started off small but gathered a House of Pain-esque following.

PIGTAILS13: Omigod, like, Golden Rules was so funny. I remember menstruating for the first time and being like, “Wow, totally like, whatever.” And normally I'm like, “Totally wow, like wow whatever,” but this time I was like, “Wow, totally like, whatever.”

NARRATOR: The columns kept rolling. Suddenly, every aspect of life became a target of JD's column. He didn't limit himself to simple beer jokes and his love of boobs. Writing became a passion. One after another: masturbation, Lord of the Rings, an Oscar column quoted in Entertainment Weekly, FOX, MTV, driving. Some said Rebello was losing his writing talent wasting his time on a pithy website, some even dared call him “repetitious.” Some were just dicks.

JAMES LIPTON: Casual Misanthropy was a rich tapestry, an almost pubescent yearning to define the angelic conundrums awfkldjfaylt (pretentious terminology) of life. He was marvelous. Absolutely, unequivocally marvelous.

SPIKE LEE: I think it was blazingly obvious JD was racist. He wrote about black people and didn't kiss their ass and accept that all white people are deviants. I imagine him writing columns while wearing a Klan hood.

DEREK JETER: (Muffled sound, perhaps like that heard during a prison blow job.)

NARRATOR: In October 2004, the fame finally got to JD Rebello. Despite the money, endless arrays of loose 11-year-old women, and ironed shirts, JD began to slink into a world of drugs.

THAT CHICK FROM EVANESCENCE WITH THE FAT THIGHS: I'd see him at parties and he'd yell, “Break me down.” I'd say, “Wake me up inside.” He'd say, “Break me down.” I'd say, “SAVE ME FROM THE NOTHING I'VE BECOME.”

CHRISTOPHER REEVE: I don't remember much of JD's downfall, you know, me being dead and all.

GOD: I think it's plenty clear JD's going to Hell.

NARRATOR: JD began dating Courtney Love, a sure sign his life was in the shitter.

CANADIAN: You know that look when an epileptic baby tries to eat a cheeseburger? That was JD. He was a walking STD sample.

COURT: He showed up at the Christmas party, stoned off his ass. He hit me in the face with a jar of mustard. I bought him a fuckin' train set and that was his gratitude. But it's okay. I'm cool with it.

NARRATOR: The pit of despair deepened when JD was interviewed in Playgirl magazine, alleging that fellow columnist and all-around fun guy Beech was a homosexual. His columns became 800-word rants accusing Beech of being gay.

BEECH: I'm not gay, which hurt, like anal sex the third time, and, uh wait…

NARRATOR: JD began lashing out at the media.

TIM MCCARVER: We were broadcasting the ALCS and I mentioned that the Yankees are the finest finesse team in baseball. JD called them a bunch of rump rangers, and he shoved a microphone down my throat. It was a pitiful sight. I heart Jeter by the way. LOLOL.

NARRATOR: In December, JD took a sabbatical from his column to work on his upcoming rap album “Mayonnaise Sandwiches Vol. 2.”

RUSSELL SIMMONS: JD in the studio was something else. The mothaplaya could rhyme like Cam'ron, but well, less talented than Cam'ron, like that guy who sucks. You know who I'm talking about?

COURT: Those were dark days at PIC. We were used to 80 something feedbacks for JD's column, even when he was high off coke and blasting some gay douche from California. He just kept screaming “GAY DOUCHE!” over and over. It was like he knew no other adjectives. The drugs really killed his vocabulary.

NICOLE (OF ASK NICOLE): JD was in danger. He'd call me at five in the afternoon crying, needing ideas for his next column. Writer's block had simply destroyed him. I mentioned a few gimmicky ideas. Wow, this paragraph is longer than most of my columns. I'd better go lay down.

NARRATOR: January 21, 2005. Martin Luther King Jr. Day. It wasn't actually MLK Day, but it may as well have been. JD Rebello was shot and killed in a drive-by down near the Las Vegas strip. His entourage, Maurice Fatman.

MAURICE FATMAN: This column is really out of control. Are you actually still reading? Goddamn, go watch CSI!

Who shot JD Rebello? Tune in next week, where the answer won't be given.

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