Pounding Her Pulpit
Ξ February 16th, 2009 | → 2 Comments | ∇ Thoughts on the Fly |
There’s a woman — a missionary, no less — who absolutely insists that we all sit up and pay attention to her every post, her every new self-promotional effort. I’d can the feed if I could, but I can’t because there are good things happening in the group and there are good people in it. But every time I get another notification with this woman’s name on it, I just get this indescribable urge to hunt her down and stuff all her spam-bytes back down her throat. It’s bad of me, I know, but, gawd, some folks just have no manners whatsoever. Problem is, despite the misery she causes with her bloated self-infatuation, all these “nice” people fawn all over themselves telling her how she just floors them with her energy. It ain’t the energy that’s flooring them, tell the truth, though. It’s the audacity! She’s a missionary, remember, guys? So she can handle the truth, right? (Yeah, yeah, we know she can’t, but, hey, tough, I say.) So, guys and gals, quit your fawning and tell it like it is. Tell her to shut the f— up if she ain’t got something other than her own horn to blow!
2 Responses to ' Pounding Her Pulpit '
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zentao.com
on February 20th, 2009 at 9:04 pm
I hear horn blowers are more likely to suffer from high bloodpressure or weakened blood vessels in the cheeks or forehead,although I`m not sure if it`s a reliable fact or just heresay.
But perhaps nature will provide her with some personal payback from all her `blowing`?
In any case there`s always the choice to ignore the noise,or indeed wear cyber ear plugs.
There`s always the SHOUT profanities option but it does tend to get messy and not good for the karma.
on February 22nd, 2009 at 8:31 am
I just put her on my ignore list — auto delete. I never bother to respond to these folks. It’s a waste of breath, time, and effort — life. But. I will pointedly write about them without naming names simply because, if they read it…if anyone reads it who’s guilty of doing it, they tend to self-examine, at least for a moment.
(Wicked of me, I know.)