The Rotund Rhetorical Rambler

I think it is so awesome that you have read every counter culture entitlement pamphlet you've been able to get your pudgy fingers on! Really, I do! I also love that it takes you about a half an hour to say that you think history is important. Your ability to pad every sentence you articulate with pounds of unnecessary adjectives is only matched by your waist size.

You give new meaning to the phrase "digesting information." Complaining about the cost of books makes much more sense when I consider the small fortune it must cost to keep you fed. Even the McDonald's dollar menu can add up when you need a Radio Flyer wagon to card around your lunch. The irony of your long-winded rants on the social injustices brought against you and the other downtrodden folks of our country being punctuated with flailing arms still shiny with french fry grease is almost too much to take. I thank the lord on high every day that I don't have to be near what I can imagine that smells like.

Not since the Reverend Jesse Jackson, or my 11th grade Social Studies teacher, have I heard a person say so little with such pomp and pretense. The verbose, psuedo-intellectual spew that you bark from the poor, creaking chair that trembles beneath you bears overtones equally heavy in cholesterol and unfounded arrogance. The late 90's civil protest tee shirt that is stretched so tightly around your midsection really shows the world that you're not going to be held down by the man. Apparently, you're not going to let gravity give up it's monopoly on keeping you down since you can't seem to get out of your chair in less than three breaths.

Get a life. Actually, don't...