Cletus' hate rant

Message: 3
Date: Fri, 3 Aug 2001 20:57:57 -0400
From: "rev_cletus" <rev_cletus@hotmail.com> Subject: Fuck "Teamwork", or Dobbsism Is Just For ME!

Greetings, Yetinsyn -

In the 9 to 5 world (well, it's really 7 to 4 in my case, starched-blue-collar slavery that it is), I am daily subjected to doses of grotesque Pinkdom that would reduce the merely "different" to wretched, gibbering blobs of defeated protoplasm; as *I*, a congenitally late-blooming ZubGeebie freekazoid, have the sheer power of Dobbsism and all that is true (or triple my money back) at my disposal to assist in WARDING OFF (as well as selling some rilly shitty timeshares to) a creeping tide of Pinkness, I have been successful at keeping all my fingers (as well as most of my diamond-tipped, nuke-herdened penii)in the Dike of Iggernance to hold at bay a veritable Flood of Overpriced Consumer Goods, Badly-Produced "Entertainment", and Misguided Pseudo-Religiosity.

However, comma, this Herky-Jerkulean task is becoming more and more difficult with each passing day, mainly because of the sheer DENSITY (this substance must surely rival the atomic weight of LEAD) of the outrageously WRONG concept of "team" employed by the Bathetic Merehumes I must (in service to Dobbs, ultimately, of course) labor under.

These ugly-as-synthetic-sin cheesedicks seem to think that, simply because we are all paid from the same stash of feelthy Pink lucre, "managed" by the Chief Cheesedick, that we should all learn the "team Cheer" and attend "Team Functions" and show up for monthly "Team Meetings" for which we are not even compensated, not even with a gift certificate for the Cracker Barrel or a session of AccuBeating.

To all this I exclaim, "Nuh-UNHNH!"

I am YETI, "Bob"-dammit! HEAR ME SNORE!

Off with their Pink HEADS! I hate their false conformity; I hate their cologne; I hate cute stories; I hate their "perfect" teeth; I hate that they are so convinced everyone AGREES with their outlook; I hate that they wouldn't be able to understand my Church, even if I WANTED THEM TO.

I have something, however, these eternally-sick and constantly-lost Sad Sacks will NEVER attain, EVEN IF THEY SENT THEIR $30 TO "BOB":

I have THE WORD. I have Dobbs, in my garage, jabbering and yammering about Yacatisma and JHVH-1, and weeping openly at times about some chick named "Connie" (whom I understand to be a bit of a babe, but a tad, well, "mysterious"); he also has this ability to repair electronic appliances while reciting the Bhagavad-Gita in the Tuvan dialect, which came in handy the other night when the teevee went on the fritz while we were experimenting with a mutant strain of Magick Mooshie and watching "Genghis Blues"...

Dobbs thinks I'm a schmuck, but he's PERFECTLY WILLING TO PUT UP WITH MY ODDITIES, mainly because it beats the shit out of spending seven bucks to see some flick about a planet populated by his failed primate experiments (he wanted to consult on the flick, but those dumb fux in Horrywood can't see around their egos); besides, I cook a mean pork sirloin stirfry, and "Bob" can't tolerate insincerity, especially in FOOD.

All this I do ON MY OWN; I needn't rely on any PINK, and I do know that if the odd occasion should arise that I need a hand (or three), there are *plenty* of MY OWN KIND about to look at me and ask, "What the fuck is in it for ME?"

PraDOBBS, and I thank you for HATING THIS.

Or kill me.

--
Rev. Cletus Aurelius
Queers fer "Bob"
Flower Town Detachment, Dobbs-on-a-Stick

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Original file name: Cletus Hate Rant - converted on Thursday, 20 December 2001, 03:30