He looks like a down-on-his-luck Mr. Belvedere with face lesions and smells like rotten milk.
"Mr. Belvedere, now with face lesions! All the moustachioed fatness of Classic Belvedere with 100% more slime and built-in 'OH MY GOD STOP TALKING'!"
Jimmy makes the worst jokes. He is constantly telling jokes that no one laughs at. Just yesterday, One of the millwrights tried to poke fun at another millwright by saying, "Hey, how did you get so dirty? It can't have been from doin' work!" Everyone had a nice little chuckle.
Then, Jim pipes in, in a very loud voice, "HE SHIT ALL OVER HIMSELF!" the crew is hushed immediately, a pall of sympathy embarassment falling over them. Then, I started laughing about 20 seconds later after I realized how hilarious the whole situation was.
Honestly, this happens every single day. You'd think that the guy would change his joke strategy, but it's like he's caught in this spider web of terrible jokes and he's just flailing around, tearing pieces of terrible jokes off and tossing them at anyone who is nearby, trying to get them to grab on. No one ever does though because they know that if they do, they won't be able to help him; they'll just get pulled into the same horrible web with 'ol Jimmy and then they'll have to sit there and listen to his terrible jokes and smell his curdled milk musk.
And he's always licking his fucking fingers. GET A NAPKIN YOU SICK FUCK! Watching those little breakfast sausage fingers of his popping in and out of his mouth with an audible popping noise while he breathes heavily through his nose from the exertion is so incredibly unsettling that it must be art.
Sometimes I wonder if Jim has ever had sex. The image of him steamrolling some greasy tramp is disgusting, but every once in a while (actually, usually) one of his jokes will be of a sexual nature. Then, I invariably associate Jim with sex and begin to wonder about him having sex. I hate him for making me picture him having sex.
So anyway, lunch is in about 30 minutes and I'm going to start steeling myself for another half hour of Jim's sick grossness.
Ah Mr. Belvedere. You taught us so much, and now it's time for you to learn you manors.
ReplyDeleteAlso, I'm surprised that Born Ruffians haven't got any love on anyone's year end list yet. I haven't really seen any negative reviews for Red, Yellow & Blue, and I sure as hell liked it.
What I love about the internet is that uptight douchebags with nothing to say, let's call them "Claytons", can write rather long blog posts about other people without fear of repercussion. I would wager that Jim has not heard a word of this, nor will he ever. And indeed, why should he? That would move very far from the self-edification that you so require to continue breathing. It is, though unlike Jim's problems, very difficult to breathe when you've turned your nose up so high that it's stuck in the fire sprinkler system. Especially when all the hot air you blow from that gaping maw of a mouth is constantly setting it off.
ReplyDeleteWhat I love about the Internet is that uptight douchebags with no sense of humour, a rudimentary grasp of sentence structure and grammar, and a complete unwillingness to employ an online dictionary or thesaurus, let's call them "Anonymous", can write rather long comments about other people without fear of repercussion.
ReplyDeleteMy grammar and sentence structure are fine, though it doesn't surprise me that your wanna-be high brow bullshit would require an online thesaurus. But why the jab at anonymity? Certainly both you and Jim have absolutely no problem with it!
ReplyDeleteIf I have to explain it to you, it ruins the joke.
ReplyDeleteWait, I thought the joke was your blog?
ReplyDeleteOh, I see what you did there! You consulted a dictionary, determined that there is an alternate definition for the work "joke", and used it to imply that my blog is somehow farcical! Well guess what? Two can play at that game: I thought the joke was your joke! Check and mate.
ReplyDelete