Thought it necessary to give a shoutout to my besties. Those good old Rope, Beam, Rickety Stool, and sweet, endearing Gravity – oh, how Yours Crushed Hyoid Truly can rely greatly on them when times are tough! One, Rope, has the wherewithal and structure to hold Yours Floor Just Out of Reach Truly up in his time of need, just as the other, Rickety Stool, like so often in history, tellingly let an old friend down, as friends on occasion do. And don’t get me started on good ol’ Beam; steadfast beyond belief, indubitably and literally ‘Holding Up the Fort’ as they say, in a structured friendship for the ages. Which brings one and all to Gravity, ahh, sweet Gravity, dependable and omnipresent without question, always there when one truly needs them, and even quite often when one does not. Talk about reliability. With besties like such, how could one want any more than said quadri-vertical alignment exuding such a lasting friendship for eternity? And if one is to ever have a falling out of friendship, try to do such with Rickety Stool, as one can always make it to the other side with the other three in tow, with low overhead to boot. Nope, who needs fair-weather friends when fair-tether friends surround one in time of need. Indeed.
Thought it necessary to give a shoutout to my worsties. That’s right, worsties, Yours In-Word-Ulator Truly just made it up. Pretty self explanatory those worsties. Nowhere near a besty, just a whole lot worsty. Really, a worsty need not be, in any shape or form a friend or acquaintance at all. Negatory. Affirmative, welcome to their whirled, fornicating in their minuscule backyard all the while metaphorically fucking another’s front yard. Although, fucking does imply that one is not in actuality being raped. Yes, metaphorically raping another’s front yard is more like it. And raping through abstinence nonetheless my new worsties unquestionably are.
Speaking of metaphorical rape, the English language will do that from time to time if contemplative analysis sprouts a sprig; like why backyard is one word, yet front yard is grammatically incorrect if attempted to be melded into one cohesive piece of joinery on par with backyard, while only typically a stones throw away from its accompanying geographical location allotment brethren. Yeah, try turning some the more into one word to tangle with nonetheless in non portmanteau fashionability! Metaphorical English language mind rape, it’s a thing, perhaps a separate article, that is, if my besties do not throw Yours Jimmy His Johnson Truly a going-away forearmpile in lieu of yesteryears banal shindig. Or would it be considered a neckdangle? Most certainly the English language will fuck it up instead of screwing it down.
Now, back to those fucking worsties. Yours Bevel Contemplator Truly fulminates those worsties insolent and derogatory to the senses selfish fulmination. Goddamn worsties, tis’ not the time of year you know – through rain, sleet, snow, and hail. What an overflowing crock of shit so despicably churned by a worsties cohesive slime pit ensemble drowning upon their own patheticness. Like the deserving of a wooden cross impalement they so beckon for, clearly those hideously trodding vampires have zero reflection while gazing into a mirror. Hold the Coors Lite, time to banana clip the union with a silver bullet payload. Sounds refreshing, in a scrubbing the poisonous mold from the misaligned margins of a complacent and dilapidated substrate attempting to pass themselves off as foundational righteousness in a reality which dictates truly that a lobotomized chimp could very well be trained to perform the likeness after a hostile takeover and subsequent kick to the deserving curb of which deserves more respect than to be trod on by such hostage holding nincompoops.
Yours Deviated Septum Truly could not imagine what it is like to hate oneself, along with one’s choice of work so much, so as to inconvenience one sole person, let alone 38 or so million people. Thirty-eight million people during the holiday time of year which those worsties have hijacked for their own selfish and undeserving squalid, non-reflective existence. Those stinkin’ worsties, but a lukewarm puddle of calorically wasted entanglement passing themselves off as something of value. Shame on those pathetic fucks. Ambulance chasers on hormone blockers they be, those worsties – a flock of sterile bleaters if they ever tried to gain entry into the real working world, fit for mutton stew and the lamb chop likeness: would not last two minutes in my universe, poof, wasted space dust caught in their their own vacuous nothingness. Workers Unions, now strictly in existence to give those undeserving of said job the right to keep it, and the ability to fuck society up out of their own selfish ignorance if they choose? Some might say so.
Those waste of atom posties, talk about braindead worsties. A real dick-move for Cana-duh Post lobotomites to go on on strike during the busiest time of year when families across the nation rely on their services to bring holiday spirit to one another. Amplified cowards if you ask Yours Boring Story Time Truly are those posties. Fart peddlers claiming to be operating an oxygen bar. Blah, blah, blah….yeah, I lost interest too.
Really, If you want to turn yourself around Cana-duh Post, disband the entire corporation through bankruptcy, fire every living greedy bitch and bastard without severance or pension, then start from scratch and only hire Mexicans, or those from other countries that actually want to do an honest days work. Christ, I bet one Mexican could deliver the routes of three average Canadian posties, in half the fucking time too.
And for your selfish ignorance Cana-duh postie worsties and the great inconvenience you have brought to Yours Fed Up By The Bullshit Truly’s life, “Go fuck yourselves!” I will be using private shipping from now on, regardless of the premium in price.
And while you are at it, try growing a conscience. You could all be replaced with lobotomized monkeys.
Did I mention that gender-affirming care is one of the issues that the Canadian Union of Postal Workers is fighting for? Does that mean that when someone with a wang wants to transition to a poontang they expect Cana-duh Post to pay for it?
According to the union, its list of demands includes wage increases aligned with inflation, enhancements to group benefits — such as coverage for fertility treatments and gender-affirming care — improved protections against technological changes, more paid medical leave, paid meal and rest periods and higher short-term disability payments.
