1. Friday, August 23, 2002

    Hi, National Scrabble Champ! 

    ferme la bouche, pussyass female dog.

    pardon me, champ?

    festering cur. rapscallion. whiner. fraud!

    tap tap. is this thing on, im talking to you, fella.

    yes, tony my ears are fine, my eyes are fine, my fingers are adroit my brain is alight, my soul is sick and my nose is awake, i can smell you from where you sit and your stench is quite droll and revealing, i am not impressed with your fiction, your page, your lies, your cries, your tears, your fantasies, your howls, your jests, your malaise, your pleas for monies nor the amount you receive. you get everything, mr. busblog, and nothing satisfies you. you are a big fat black hole, a fuck noir. you take and take and do not give. you type and spell poorly and use run-on sentences and you haven’t updated your scrabble word of the day in several months now and you dare speak in my general direction? if i had a Zippo i would light a fart and blue flame your eyebrows off.

    dude, what the hell crawled up your ass?

    you disgust me. you have everything at your disposal, friends, money, fame, looks, heritage, soul, humor, spirituality, talent, virility, hair, masculinity, finesse, grace, endurance, wit, sarcasm, deception, girth, resiliency, courage, innocence…

    i wouldn’t say girth.

    tony, i haven’t been with a woman that i haven’t had to pay for in over 45 years.

    friend, we all pay one way or another.

    still…

    do you have any idea how much Diet Coke ashley drinks? or my phone bills? i have to win this weekend’s $115 million lottery jackpot just to break even!

    touche, but i stand by my argument that you should not be holding any pity party while you still have stank on your pinkie.

    being scrabble champ doesn’t help you pull?

    negatory.

    maybe its that winning attitude.

    i will not be your whipping boy, mr. pierce, and i refuse to be the butt of your so-called comedy. i just want you to know that theres a million men out there who would trade places with you in a new york heartbeat and you need to remember that before you type up your screams off the balcony for it falls upon deaf ears and only makes you appear selfish, unappreciative and morose.

    ok, buddy, the thing is…

    the name’s Joel.

    ok, joel, with your vocabulary i bet you could talk up a girl real good. women can be wooed by their ears. and if you can win these tournaments more often–

    they’re only held once a year.

    then what you need to do is just set up a table in the park like the chess guys do and challenge people to games.

    no one dares play me.

    then make up quickie games, like “10 minute Scrabble Game $10” you could make $60 an hour.

    ahem, that is against the International Scrabble Rules, also I do not gamble at Scrabble, also as a Quality Assurance Manager for Raytheon I make upwards of $75 an hour, before overtime, of which I get plenty.

    fine, joel, fine. so you have money, you know your way around the dictionary, just go out with a woman, woo her with that crazy charm of yours, have her close her eyes, and start talking dirty to her. the chicks love dirty talk.

    perhaps you have a point there, tony.

    that’s what im here for.

    well, i might give it a try.

    you know, sometimes, joel, you just have to say what the fuck.

    ive been saying wtf for a long time, tony, although not in that context.

    maybe you should try.

    seven letter triple word scores to you, my new friend.

    right back at you, nerd of the week.

    hey would you put up that picture of meesh when you post this, i know you’re going to post this, you’re going to post this, aren’t you?

    i would be more than happy to put up the picture of meesh. it was nice of her to send me the image, i wouldn’t want to be as selfish as you suggest.

    spectacular! ok, bye!