Okay, when do we start dishing the dirt on the pubescent loudmouths who flock to these penny stocks like muddy-truck boys to a kegger in the boonies? Like articulate geriactric curmudgeons grabbing for the maalox over the heads of babes in the bath?
So when do we name the names, hoist the scoundrels on their petards, the spell-check challenged hotheads who explode in paranoid rage everytime they drop a few thou over some weaseling company's equivocating come-ons? The whiners, the bold challengers who "lurk" behind pathetic acronyms, who lack the "gump"tion to stand face to face with the world and proclaim that their big "mack" is somehow half eaten before it comes out of the window of gratification? Oh, they use their "engine"uity to subtly squeeze doubts from half truths, they employ "laz"y thinking to conclude dubious conclusions.
But they are not alone. Others persist in steadfast faith, probably fortified with "jin" and tonics, are hard as nails, or at least "brads", in their convictions. Some "fair", decent ones growing less patient, tired of "mark"ing time, and the other FAHMished throngs languishing in the doldrums while the waters rise enough to float a million more Moses' from the reeds of tedium.
And all presided over by some toga-clad interloper. Yes its a big ol jane jane jane of fools, and I am one too, at this wacky bus stop in the middle of nowhere, where a handful of world-worn travelers are thrown together like molly ringwald and emilio estevez in that x-gen flick about that most seminal of high school venues, study hall detention.
We're all being punished somehow. By enduring each other.
and I'm in the back, carving this into the desktop.
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