i don’t know why she’s ridin’ so high…

traina literary milestone courtesy of big jim industries so potent an expression that it necessitates a committal to the flesh, ftbsitttd a/k/a fuck the bullshit it’s time to throw down. certainly a worthy addition to the long line of respected acronyms, i.n.r.i., l.s.d and f.u.b.a.r, it’s not so succinct elegance erupts from flaccidity with a virile declaration that the B and the S are as distinct as the cogito and the sum. while the subtleties of such a nuanced phrase are mostly lost on the uneducated masses, it’s clear that the meat-packed prime cut bearing this grade “a” stamp of approval talks the walk:

“so let the haters hate, let the doubters doubt, I stand by my book, and my life, and i won’t dignify this bullshit with any sort of further response.”

with so much bullshit and so little attention, the heart of matter is cut to. while lying, poor literary skills, hackneyed storytelling and pimping out harpo are indubitably commendable, especially when one is capable of the solicitation of the admission that the truth is “to me, [sic] it seems to be much ado about nothing”, it is quite telling the effects that social conditioning have on the psyche when we take a bite and discover in all actuality we’ve ingested usda utility. were it so that we could have been spared the witnessing of the gross theatre of greed and self-interested contrition and in it’s stead, the bull and it’s shit provided the proverbially middle finger to the establishment by proudly standing by a gloriously profitable prevarication? alas we were not privy to the exploitations of a second rate grifter celebrating the naivety of having made a mark, but a churlish display of a lickspittle’s guileless groveling to remain a rail rider on the line of talentless ease. nonetheless the subtext of mister maggot meat’s ostensible ejection from the gravy train is undeniable and the outcome of the yet to be played third act just as predictable…professional makeover.

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