The Finch Formerly Known As Gold

8 September 2002

Life among the dogs

At first, I thought Gregory Hlatky was having a bad day:

The march of years has brought less hair and more fat, but it has failed to impart wisdom or maturity. Even as I've reached what should be considered middle age, I completely lack common sense. I remain so socially inept that I'm a constant embarrassment to my lovely bride and now take refuge in taciturnity. I still have the emotional stability of a person a quarter of my age.

Been there, felt that. Still feel that, to a certain extent. But this post, less than twelve hours later, banishes one particularly-annoying publicity hound to deserved oblivion, and in so doing demonstrates the true strength of the man:

Damn you! Damn you, you syphilitic roué, you rancid tub of solipsism, you stuprous slave of your hormones, you fungus that lives off pond scum, you prevaricating confidence-man! May the chancres you acquired from one of your trailer-trash strumpets never heal. How dare you use this somber time to buff up your record! The only thing I forever again want to hear from you is this:

"'I was President of the United States for eight years. I might have, but failed to prevent this atrocity. For that I will feel the deepest shame for the rest of my days.'"

Thanks, Greg. We needed that.

Posted at 5:34 PM to Blogorrhea