Letters To Pretentious Pukes From A Pompous PrickTo whom it may concern:Go fuck yerselves! Now that we've got niceties out of the way let's get down to business. I think that your thinking that I think everything's about me speaks volumes as to what things are about and it ain't me. As I've asked your plant a hundred times, "Do you think I'm stupid?!" Have you ever thought that I think you're arrogant imbeciles and I'm playing to the audience? I've got a history of that, you know. Shall we discuss further who/what/when/where/why that prompted your assuming you had the ability to read my mind? Make up yer closed minds quickly 'cause I'd like to get in some shots of the blue moon before 2015.
The Thing About Lies and the Liars Who Tell ThemThe thing about lies that oft goes unnoticed is how they rob ones words of their meaning.Someone lies over and over and repeatedly and again, even when the truth's easier to tell and before you know it, no one gives a damn what they say. The obvious lies are boring and trying to decipher true & false in statements made by the liar isn't worth the effort. It's at that point that their words no longer mean anything. It doesn't matter whether it's a cute story about their pet, the latest stunt their kid pulled or something so profound theoretical physics won't ever be the same, it sounds like Charlie Brown's teacher when rolling off the lips of a flagrant liar.
Letters to Pretentious Pukes From a Pompous PrickTo whom it may concern:Go fuck yerselves! Who the hell are you to think that I'm thinking everything is about me?! Really?! When were you appointed official readers of my mind? I must've missed the memo!Shall we examine the psychology behind your projections? Let's.First, I must relieve myself as mere thoughts of you spur bowel movements.