Saturday, January 13, 2018

LITTLE INSIGHT FROM THE OUTER FRINGE OF THE BLOGOSPHERE

Inasmuch as Pluto lost its status as a planet, can a typist from soulless McAllen, with almost zero gravitational pull, be considered a legitimate part of the blogging solar system, the blogosphere?  Benevolently, Science says "YES!"

Pluto is still considered sort of a planet, just a dwarf planet, smaller in stature than the big boys.  It navigates the outer fringe of the solar system with little gravitational pull, just as Duardo Paz-Martinez toils in the obscurity of off-center McAllen, aiming his misguided missiles at whatever they can hit.(No centered, planned community would ever consider 10th Street its main drag)

So far from the solar system's main energy source, the City of Brownsville, the little guy is cold, very cold.  The light is also very dim, almost reaching total darkness.

A tiny single dish receiver has been set up in the hope that FRBs will be picked up from distant Brownsville, but no such luck.  

With no signal coming from historic Brownsville, only weeping and gnashing of teeth in the Hell of McAllen, the dwarf blogger hurls insults, homophobic and misogynistic.  We caught this one on our state-of-the-art electronic telescope:

"Hey, there are no 74-year-old bitches in my books. There are no butt-abused Gays in my books."

Those are obvious references to my 74 year old wife Nena and the openly gay Brownsville blogger, Bobby Wightman-Cervantes, hurled from the outer reaches of the Brownsville blogosphere by the insecure dwarf blogger.

Since we were already there, we read a bit more of the blogging dwarf's carelessly chosen words.

Oh, someone sent him a  "Made in China" ten dollah crock pot.  Whoop-dee-doo!

He's already pleased his unsophisticated palate with a pork roast and is working on beef stew!  LMAO! 

"Kick it up a notch, Duardo!"  Scream "BAM!" as you toss in a fistful of caliente!  

Get ready for recipes from planetoid Duardo, boys and girls!  They will be heavenly!

We've been forewarned by the blogging narcissist himself:

"Interestingly, many writers write their million words and sooner or later find their way to the kitchen. Maybe it’s all the verbs we write. Perhaps it’s nothing more than the desire for creating even more, on another plane, yeah. I want to invent dishes. I want to throw stuff in the oven, in the microwave. I want to make my own peach cobbler, that sort of stuff."

Tarte aux pΓͺches par Duardo.  We're licking our chops!!  

7 comments:

  1. Jim, it appears you are wrong about Pluto:
    https://futurism.com/pluto-reclassified-as-a-major-planet/

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    1. Thanks. I will correct Grandson Jack's 4th grade science book.

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  2. Great creative writing. The typing monkey knew he was insulting Nena and me. But here is the deal he always types you are of no significance and he does not care about you, but he has written more about you than anyone else. As to being the number one blog, I defy him to post his source. There is no known source to measure how many hits or individual hits every blog gets. His lies are part of his delusions. Oh, I never would have quessed Nena is 74. I know she is going through a hard time, but all the more impressive. I would have guessed early 60's. Finally for someone who looks like a stick zombie with falling out string badly died red hair it is odd he seems qualified to judge people's looks. Hey monkey the walking dead is always looking for Zombie extras. And take a lesson from Jim on writing, you can write very creative prose without it always being pornographic.

    Bobby WC

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    1. Thanks. Yes, Duardo is classless. As you know, we rec'd obscene notes at least daily for a year about Nena after his Google blog was cancelled. The "journalist" no one will hire is obsessed with us.

      He was obviously referring to you and Nena in his unpolished diatribe, but, not unlike Trump, he's not man enough to admit it.

      Oh, BTW, Nena laughed when I told her what you said about her age. Thanks again for the thoughtful response.

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    2. Duardo Number One? Nah! He's either 4 or 5 depending on how much interest the Captain in drawing. No one reads that shit.

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  3. "Maybe it's all the words we write" Well Barton, that about sums up the secret to Writing for Fun and Profit. All you gotta do is collect all the dribble you (not you you) have ever typed, slap a clever cover on it, send it to U-Books and voila they "publish" it online and now you're a published writer, a privilege which gets you free coffee at Whataburger, adds girth to an aged penis and offers 15 percent off on downtown hand jobs. BTW the Pluto reinstatement is an April Fool's story.

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    1. Yes, my dumbass nephew is self-published, but nearly homeless in Las Vegas with a fear and loathing of the process servers.

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