I like Boxxy, and here’s why. I’m not postpubescent (over

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I like Boxxy, and here’s why. I’m not postpubescent (over 25), I have a girlfriend, and I don’t fantasize about her. I like her because she is the antidote, the antithesis, the hemlock in the cup to Internet Tough Guyism.
I was surprised to see that, for all its posturing, /b/ really does hold one thing sacred: it’s 'bad muthafucka' image of itself. /b/ really believes that it’s frightening, that it’s tougher than a Ford Chevy, that it’s badass masculinity personified, in a sense. And, before, there were very few ways to disrupt this image, to give it a good hard kick in the shins.
And then Boxxy came along. Boxxy love is everything /b/ hates — passive, gentle, adorable, sweet. It gives without asking, it loves without asking in return. Instead of being aggressively faux-adult, it’s happily faux-childlike. That’s why Boxxy became a meme — because she DIDN’T want the attention; because she provided no pics (as the /b/tards will attest). As a result, Boxxy turned into the most successful way to troll the /b/tards ever devised. It actually makes the gore and violence and sexism and racism fantards squeal, because it hits them where it hurts — in their image of themselves. How can they be tough, scary guys when their favorite hangout is one long love poem to Boxxy love? So that’s why I love Boxxy — the sound of /b/'s humiliation is sweet music to my ears.