You know what I love about a DUMBFUCK?
Nothing. There’s absolutely not a single lovable atom in its entire being.
This is not to say it has no value. As a source of unintentional entertainment, I’m nearly prepared to say that this particular DUMBFUCK is currently without equal among its peers on Team Kimberlin.
For instance, the monologue above made me laugh so hard I nearly threw up my lunch. The constant and unerring ability to carve out an exception for its own behavior while condoning far less in others astounds beyond description.
It claims control over its name and its image. Anyone who uses it is guilty of heinous crimes.
Here’s a hint about privacy for a DUMBFUCK: if someone sends you a stinky candle, and you don’t want people to laugh at you over it, you poor, pitiful sociopath (tough shit because it’s a fucking laugh riot), maybe you shouldn’t make and post a goddamn YouTube video about it.
If a blogger writes about you, quotes you, uses images of you – THAT YOU HAVE MADE PUBLIC – in writings that he published free of charge, while making available through his website unrelated products, links to unrelated retail websites, and a tip jar for unreciprocated donations, he has fairly RAPED your reputation.
But let you take that blogger’s name and his photograph, plaster them across the cover of one of your copyright-infringing cut-and-paste masturbatory fantasies, and put it up for sale on multiple retail websites? Oh that’s just fine and dandy! There’s no violation of the “right to publicity” in selling a book with someone else’s name and photo on the cover!
FIRST AMENDMENT! Amirite, or what?
That’s good to know, because I’m thinking of writing a children’s book. Tell me what you think of this title:
Everyone Poops, But Not Everyone Picks It Up, Rolls It Into a Ball And Sniffs It
I think it’s got the potential to be a best-s