AZGrizFan wrote:Cap'n Cat wrote:
I know attention deficit is an issue with you, but have you checked any OTHER threads nearby for that insight? Much more than two paragraphs, too, son. Shit you couldn't DREAM of putting together unless you Googled it!
That cane on your back's gotta be smartin' by now, aint it!?
See, the difference between me and the UNI boys is that I have to put together 9-10 consecutive hours of cognitive thought and perceptive insight on a daily basis IN REAL LIFE, so I come here to escape that shit. You fellas, on the other hand, what with your Walmart greeter jobs staring you in the face every day, still need an outlet. So go for it...
Z's typical congnitive thought/perceptive insight workday:
7am - Autogenerated text, so he can continue sleeping, is sent to his secretary informing her he has several morning meetings and will not be in until the afternoon. She couldn't pick him out of a police line-up if her life depended on it.
8am - Z is in deep sleep dreaming about gold coins and assfucking Weezy Jefferson.
9am - Z is still sleeping. Stain on sheets beginning to dry.
10am - Z's recieved no less than 20 voice messages related to problems at work. Phone is programmed to go straight to message, which reads: "Hi, you've reached the voice mail of Brock Hardwood, at the sound of the tone dial 101 and someone else will help you. If this call is related to Griz Football or sloppy black titties, hold on to the line and I'll be right with you."
11am - Z wakes up and immediately logs onto cs.com. Answers several PM's from BDFCKNUT, Boldlie and Cluck U. Cluck U's PM's always include a picture of his "cock". Z is not sure if it is a cock or a medium sized clitoris. He doesn't care as long as it's smaller than his. In this case, marginally.
12pm - Z finally shows up at Dunkin Donuts where he's welcomed by chorus of "Zeeee" from all the employees and most of customers. He proudly saunters over to his counter stool and orders his usual 4 sausage bagel samwitches and 4 apple fritters and decaf coffee. Fucks around on cs.com on his phone.
1pm - Z decides he's going to finally show up at that new gun range across town and try out his new nickle-plated Derringer he bought from one of his daughter's girlfriends. Only hit the target once in 75 rounds. He's thrilled. He buys 1200 .38 caliber rounds. He doesn't even own a .38, he just wants the ammo around him.
3pm - Z heads to the liquor store, right next door to the firing range, and picks up a case of Bud Light.
4pm - Z decides to check out some girls and parks his huge ass on the bench across the street, but facing the local Planned Parenthood clinic. Fucks around on cs.com on his phone. Urgent messages now in triple digits. He doesn't give a fuck, someone else will handle it.
5pm - Z cracks open a Bud Light, just to test its quality. Fucks around on cs.com. Reads the paper and glosses over an article on a local gang of armed robbers who are specifically targeting credit unions. He becomes enraged after carefully reading an op ed piece advocating raising the Minimum Wage by a nickel.
6pm - Z has logged several hundred posts on cs.com, is piss drunk after 6 Bud Lights and is driving home in his Lincoln Destroyer with cs.com on his vid screen and he's in a seething deathmatch with KYjelly and Mr. Klean, who BTW are annihilating him and his organ grinder monkeys - Boldlie and BDCKHD.
8pm - Z is passed out in his man cave which consists of a dorm fridge, half a case of bud light, a 5 gallon bucket for a chair and vomit and piss and shit, a drain in the center of the floor and a stained poster of an extremely endowed AA woman who is in fact Flip Wilson in drag, he doesn't care.
1am - Z wakes up and log's onto cs.com...
