🚀 go-pugleaf

Rev. Bob 'Bob' Crispen wrote:
> The kindly Rev. overheard Omelet <omp_omelet@gmail.com> saying on Wed 
> 22 Aug 2007 11:26:31a:
> 
>>>> As expected, the vast majority of dog fighting creeps are negro or
>>>> hispanic.
>>> As expected, racists don't know how to trim a post.
>> And reverends (religious zealots) don't know how to trim the 
>> crossposts...
> 
> Praise "Bob", we caught us a sucker.
The reason these groups have been saturated of late by the redolent 
leftist rhetoric of our own "Rev" runt "Bob" is that the massively 
self-absorbed, Binford-cheeked, ex-Boeing barnacle has been dislodged 
from the workplace into a state of "retirement" and finds himself with a 
surfeit of time but no shortage of keystrokes at his disposal.

A cursory glance at Bob's blogs and familial puffery websites renders 
for us the image of a man obsessed with himself, desirous of huge inputs 
of attention, and very nearly addicted to virtual exhibitionism.

Be it his musings over the Steelers, familial lineage, or the unending 
core dump of rants, spin, and political opinioneering, "Bob" simply 
craves a reaction.

In the truest sense this is seniors life trolling 101 - an all to 
revealing look at what the Bart Simpson persona turned loose in a senior 
center might be one day.

See the "Rev"-runt not so much as a benign but bored buffoon, but rather 
as a pernicious reminder of what intolerant solipsism offers in its 
climax state.

"Bob" doesn't really care if you agree with him, though that would be 
well and good, though his troll volume decreases accordingly as threads 
inevitably peter out under concordance.

But take the "Rev's" bait and he's granted another rollicking ride on 
the "Bob"-o-lator, a device of his own all too imitable design and one 
wholly self gratifying in application, the Usenet equivalent of one of 
those auto-suck penis milking devices. And know this, the "Rev" is one 
spunk-happy self-abuser; all he asks is that you supply the friction and 
he'll grimace and shudder in partisan ecstasy 24/7.

Think "Lawnmower Man" meets Howard Beale and you're in the right stadium.

But forget the refreshments and door fees. "Bob's" game is senior-itis 
gone evil and wrong. The perversion of loneliness done up in a cult of 
self-worship yet bereft of the slightest compassion regarding the wit or 
wisdom of his active trollees.

The megalomania that defines the "Rev" doesn't leave room for the rest 
of the world in any peer sense, one simply becomes part of the auto-suck 
until siphoned of any humor, perspective or relevance.

Simply put, "Bob" spuges this medium in a virtual Bukake head shot-fest 
of a Rushmore-like proportions.

As the last of the "Rev's" lifeless sheet of vile partisan jism runs off 
Lincoln's chin, know that in "Bob's" world America is safe as long as 
she remains his ideological cum-slut.

So key up and start jacking, the Rev has another load of bile to release.