Subject:  I could call you a half-wit but that would be giving you too much credit. I drew a picture of you. One where I made it look like you slept funny on your hair. |
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That's not nice.
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Date Posted: Thu, April 03, 2008 10:57:01
In reply to:
Are you talking about Hillary (the broad) or the board?
's message, "Re: If you're disgusted please feel free to go watch" on Thu, April 03, 2008 9:23:58
The expression I put on your face would lead one to believe you were constipated. It is a difficult picture to look at: challenging. After a while, it began to frighten me. I showed it to several people and they felt the same way. They urged me to lock it in a box so no children could accidentally stumble over it. I did them one better. I buried it in quicklime and cement. The rest, of course, is up to God.
Listen, when you're done insulting me .....
Why don't you go tell the attractive pharmacy people—the ones in the crisp white lab coats, the ones near the jelled insole display and the wart removal creams not recommended for genital or facial warts—tell them to bring the drugs to me. Tell them I shall be waiting on the side of the parking lot that has been freshly blacktopped and lined with bright yellow paint. Bring 27 bagels.
Broad, board, a typological error. Big deal.
It was my idea. I thunk it up all by my lonesome. Long before the suits did. A spicy chicken sandwich with crispy bacon, ranch dressing, and Monterey jack cheese. Genius. Pure genius. It was all in my head. Locked away with my virginity. Then the suits came to steal it. They snuck into my apartment with a series of devilishly fashioned clothes hangers, speaking in a tongue unknown to me and my people. They liquored me up, said it was a backrub when it was really a Vulcan mind probe. You can guess the rest.
Now please take a long walk off a short pier.
Okay?
Peace.
Why must you question me when I say I don’t believe robots can be good judges at beauty contests? Or that yodeling can’t be heard in the vacuum of space? Why must we always have these stupid arguments? Why? I should tell you that I bought a gun. It’s not a threat—I’m just telling you. That’s all. But the next time I feel you staring at the back of my neck, you should know that I own a gun. I’m not a good shot, but with this gun, you don’t have to be. That’s something you should think about the next time you start shooting your mouth off about how dogs have two stomachs. That’s cows, you halfwit! COWS!!!
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