Mr Tryone was unable to operate the immensely complicated processes involved in commenting on Blogger, nor to think of a suitably pithy and appropriate title for his message, which arrived in my inbox under the visage "(No Subject)".
Say what you want about his previous effort, I think this is far inferior. Printed below at his behest:
Hey Cunt, put this on your blog too, I hope you kill yourself anytime
soon, then we won't have to put up with a fucktard like you on this
I hope you get a good case of head cancer, or one of your family members
suffers some excruating agony like being run over in a accident.
He can't seem to make up his mind. Am I supposed to commit suicide in realisation of the hideousness of my corporate agent lifestyle? Or am I to contract headcancer from overexposure to my own eloquecne? Then he seemingly concedes both of these are unlikely and its best to hope that an indeterminate something happens to somebody who is connected to me.
In the words of Lady Diana Spencer on both her honeymoon and several years subsequently in a Parisian motorway tunnel - "I am not impressed".
Although it seems to me that this battle of titanic wits has been ended at 8billion/Love Advantage: Jared "Fucktard" Hansen, I am nothing if not an endorser of democracy and so I throw it open to the Greater Internet Public: who won this debate to end all debates?
EDIT: Hopefully this tedious business is over so I can get back to my reviews of PMG's second season...