There are a lot of people who love me and are concerned about me. They pick up the phone and call me regularly. They admit to members of the general public that not only do they know me, some of them are even related to me and consider me a faithful, loving and attentive husband and father. They are concerned about recent threats made by a DUMBFUCK in Wisconsin toward a guy I know who is far more tolerant of idiots than I am. Threats to sue him, along with a few others, back to the Stone Age, and to legally punish these people until DUMBFUCK is satisfied that this guy has had enough. I am not concerned. As the great philosopher Gunnery Sgt. Hartman said, “You little scumbag! I’ve got your name! I’ve got your ass! You will not laugh! You will not cry! You will learn by the numbers. I will teach you. Now get up! Get on your feet! You had best unfuck yourself or I will unscrew your head and shit down your neck!”
Pardon my French.
But there is a DUMBFUCK who hates me, who finds the content of this blog a constant source of BUTTHURT worth seeking out unbidden multiple times a day. It feels compelled to read the blog, to document, catalog and cross-reference the BUTTHURT it cannot let a day pass by without hunting down. It claims the stress of BUTTHURT hunting exacerbates his Late Stage Eleventy Thousand Parkinson’s Disease, but refuses to take the simple step of getting off the internet so that people will stop highlighting the daily examples of idiocy and weak character that have so thoroughly trashed its already nonexistent sterling reputation. And laughing. And pointing. And mocking.
So, I’ve decided I‘m not going to do a goddamn thing. You can read all the content and you don’t even have to log in. Like always, if you’re not visiting the site, you won’t see any of the hilarious stuff I post, like this very post.
Everybody. Chill. DUMBFUCK aka Derppopotamus “Minor Impulse Control Issues” Rex will flame out in four days or less. It just doesn’t know it yet.
Brain, Leg and Cheese Sandwiches? Oh, yes please!
But hold the mayo.
UPDATE – Hit a little too close to the bone on the “I got no children who acknowledge my existence” thing, I guess.