The course of true love runs about as straight as the teeth of an inflatable gamer for some people. For others with purer hearts and better prospects, the outlook is much more positive. I suppose that explains how Patrick Grady, the White Whale to Bill Schmalfeldt’s Captain Ahab, somehow made it back to the altar before he did.
I was there, one of few close friends among many family members at an intimate outdoor ceremony. In gorgeous sunshine and a high, cooling breeze, I had the pleasure of seeing my good friend tie the knot once more. The bride was lovely, and to call her an upgrade to the previous model would be, well…true.
Of certain details, I have been sworn to secrecy, but I can share that one member of the celebration told me he looks and acts happier than they can ever remember seeing him. I cannot disagree.
I struggle to understand how Lady Dye Job puts up with someone as unmotivated as DUMBFUCK, who refuses to get off his unwashed crap-chute and drag himself down to the courthouse and make an honest woman of her. Of course, it’s quite possible that between gaming and #resisting, it’s she who can’t be bothered – but I think the former case is much more likely.
Could be he’s promised to set a date as soon as he gets and holds a job for six months…if that’s the case it will never happen, but at least he’ll have his principles instead of a wife.
My friend is happy. I’m happy for my friend. Bill Schmalfeldt can go fuck himself, and as long as he stays on the internet, I’ll be there to point, laugh and mock.
Somebody drove (wait…drove? I thought he couldn’t drive, with MUH PARKY’S and all) all the way to Jacksonville, NC to pose in front of a radio station that won’t hire him, in the hopes that somebody will think his sixth (or is it his seventh?) short-term “retirement” has temporarily ended for another month, and post something insulting.
Well, I aim to please.
We all know what you’re qualified to do, DUMBFUCK.
Since the skeered little puppy poked his nose out from under the porch yesterday…
Patrick, I forgive you. (Which is more than you will ever hear from your wife, I fear.)
— The Portly Pundit (@ThePortlyPundit) May 11, 2019
How is Gail these days? Still useful and comfy at the bottom of the river?
And I haven’t seen a marriage license announced in the Myrtle Beach papers lately either. You and the Balloon Animal are just gonna keep sponging off big sister like the grifters you are, amirite?
In this roaring economy, with unemployment at historic lows, you can’t hold a fucking job!
I feel like I won the lottery!
Oh, and on the subject of jobs, I do want to apologize for being too late to get you disinvited from employment at WTKN. I underestimated your ability to show every thinking person around you what a complete and utter syphilitic cocksnogger (SUE ME AGAIN!!) you are, and you managed the feat before I even decided to try.
If there’s ever a next time though, I’ll be ready.
TTFN, and tell Lady Chompers that’s Knurmdluhhh says “flnechdk yhurr!”
(Seriously man, you could drain pasta through that thing.)
According to Merriam-Webster, “retired” is defined as:
On the other hand, the same dictionary defines “unemployed” as:
So, when looking at a DUMBFUCK who “retired” from NIH in 2011 (or was it 2010?) when his employers determined that he was unable to perform the duties for which he had been hired…
which sounds an awful lot like “fired” to me, but why open that can of worms today
…and then “unretired” in 2017 to work at a radio station in Iowa for a month…
…and suddenly “retired” again…
…moved to South Carolina…got engaged to a balloon he met on Facebook
…and then went hunting – unsuccessfully – for jobs in such far-flung outposts as Amarillo, El Paso & Albuquerque…
…while “retired,” mind you…
…then “unretired” to take a job at a newspaper in North Dakota…
…but suddenly changed course, leaving that NoDak paper in the lurch for a radio gig in Denison, Iowa…
…which, WHOOPS! thanks to the magic of Google, didn’t come to fruition…
…and he was suddenly “retired” again…
…until the Five State Big Talker in Guymon talked him into “unretiring” for a THIRD TIME…
…where he lasted about a month after a permanent station manager was hired…
…before suddenly deciding that he didn’t care for working at a conservative talk radio station, and a FOURTH “retirement” was looking pretty sweet…
…but not as sweet as the prospects of a frigid winter in the high plains of Havre, Montana…
…which lasted about two months before the Fakinson’s raised it’s ugly head after DUMBFUCK fall-down-go-boom in the snow…
…leading to the FIFTH “retirement” overall and the fourth in less than two years…
…this time to return to South Carolina to resume treatment for his Fakinson’s disease (say, how is that treatment going, by the way?)…
…before deciding that this “retirement” thing just wasn’t for him, and weaseling his way into an inadvisable spot at ANOTHER conservative talk radio station…
…which, to absolutely no one’s surprise, he could not even hold on to until the first air date, which was yesterday…
…and based on his Facebook profile, it looks like another possible shot at avoiding
unemployment “retirement” has fallen through…
…so now, for the SEVENTH time (does anyone know if there’s an upper limit, after which you just run out of chances and die?)
Meh. I guess you’re not. And time, and you, will prove me right.
He was always going to find a way to get fired from that job.
I know that there a people in entertainment who pretend to be something they are not, just to put food on the table. Mostly these people are called actors, but in radio, there are country DJs who can’t stand country music. There are devout Christians who play death metal. There are comic personalities doing political talk. There are – oh, the HORROR!! – liberals working in conservative radio.
Because that’s the job.
In DUMBFUCK Bill Schmalfeldt, however, his own self-regard trumps (pun intended) all. Even when it costs him a job, even when it results in the deserved scorn and contempt of his balloon animal fiancee and her family, even when it prevents him from fulfilling promises to marry her and get that earthquake ravaged downtown of a mouth repaired…he will still manage to fuck up a good thing because he’s a fucking idiot.
And blame somebody else for his bad fortune. Note that he didn’t stomp on his own crank…his “almost-tenure was torpedoed” by…someone else…and not by his own naturally sunny socialist disposition.
I think I know what the real problem is for our boy. He’s pretty good at fooling people who haven’t gotten to know him, and that gets him hired. But he can’t sustain that charade because after two or three weeks, people get to know him, and there’s no recovering from that.
Too bad, so sad, bye-bye.
TL;DR – No.
I thought radio professional extraordinaire Bill Schmalfeldt was all set to kick off as a morning show producer at WTKN 94.5 in Murrels Inlet/Myrtle Beach this morning.
But at least while I was listening, he was nowhere to be heard!
Whether he was not actually there or if he was there but not allowed to speak on air, is still a matter of some discussion.
But it does appear from the timeline described in his Facebook bio, that the job fell through:
Clearly employed. Or lying.
Uh-oh…could something unpleasant, like a detailed background check, be afoot?
Could it be the good folks at the Grand Strand’s Conservative Alternative discovered his terabytes of liberal ranting? “Sorry Bill, I just don’t think you’re going to be a good fit with what we’re trying to do here. (Plus you smell weird.)”
You know what’s strange though? If – and I want to emphasize IF, because I certainly cannot prove that Bill was kicked to the curb, I can only demonstrate that a reasonable person could reach such a conclusion based on the available evidence – anyway, if DUMBFUCK got canned again on or about April 23rd, then the email I sent them was at least five days too late, and had no effect whatever on the decision.
Or I’m lying.
So…back to the endless job hunt?
This April 29 update supports the notion that job hunting has resumed.
Why, oh why does Bill Schmalfeldt have so much trouble holding a job? I wonder if he has re-thought his feelings about proudly putting his name on everything he writes?
Two pieces of advice, my man:
- When they say “Don’t call us, we’ll call you,” they are serious. You have no power. They will not call you back to tell you they’ve decided to go in a different direction. Nowadays, you just didn’t get the job…until someone calls to tell you otherwise. We have better things to do.
- When choosing between two equally unskilled candidates willing to do shit work for pennies, they will always choose the one who knows nothing and can be molded over the one who says “that’s not how we did it in my day!” like a shit-covered parrot.
Back to @ThePortlyPundit. The tea leaves indicate that Amtrak will soon re-enter his life, and Monty will depart.
Instead of Pretendyland bullshit like this:
Here's what I worry about.
Trump ignores Congress.
Congress issues subpoenas.
Trump ignores subpoenas.
Court orders compliance.
Trump ignores courts.
Trump loses in 2020.
Trump declares election invalid, refuses to vacate.
— The Secret Life of Walter Snitty (@ParkyPatriarch) May 3, 2019
You should make sure your fiancée is inflated to the recommended air pressure.
Still shading me eh? How comical. The only place you can’t be reached by me is Russia. So better get packing.
— ʍʀֆɨʀɨʊֆ (@USoSirius) May 2, 2019
Taking cues from an idiot like Bill Schmalfeldt?
Gosh, I hope Liz Callaway doesn’t find out about this, or the DUMBFUCK might have to “resign without giving two weeks notice” (ITKWIMAITYD) from his fourth job in a row that he actually managed to reach the first day of, unlike North Dakota, Denison and Wisconsin.
And you think I ought to be concerned?