Edition V3.6: Operation Fucktard ....

Fucktard: Hey we need some new EDI documents mapped, lol are they done yet?

Me: Well, I need a few details, like what fucking document, who's the fucking partner, what's it being mapped to, and is fucking inbound or fucking outbound?

Fucktard: Lol i dunno, is it done yet?

Me: Ok, listen here shithead, I need the partners document specifications, and the target document specs.

Fucktard: lol ok here they are.

Me: Well, you've sent me a photograph of your wife and kids, how nice, I could use the specifications.

Fucktard: Are they done yet? lol

Me: About as ready as your wife's camel toe in that picture you sent instead of the SPECS!

Fucktard: lol here are the specs, now are they done?

Me: Well, seeing as how you are mapping a ridiculously simple EDI document to a customized version of the most complex Idoc - it's going to take quite a while, as we are not currently processing this Idoc.

Fucktard: lol will it be done tomorrow?

Me: *throws a noose over a rafter in the garage*

 Bong! You’ve got mail.  Ah, what a wonderful sound. Somebody cares enough to email me. What a joy. Let’s open it and see what they want.

YOU NEED A BIGGER P3N15. STOP BY OUR WEBSIT AND GET THE BUST PROCES ON V1AG4A ON THE WEEB! 

Wonderful, I wonder who else knows about my personal shortcomings (sigh, gotta stop showing that picture at outings). 

 Bong! You’ve got mail. Great, maybe this will be the email I have been waiting for that confirms the shipment of RAM that my client so desperately needs. No subject, hmmm. I wonder.

 CLICK HERE TO MET BOOTIFUL WIMEN IN YOUR AREA FOR CASUAL S3X!!!!! NO STRIN ATTACH!!!!!! 

Ach, sorry no. I am married to a wonderful woman and do not care to poke it somewhere else (especially considering what’s out there today).

 Bong! You’ve got mail. Wince, another email with no subject. Do I dare open this one? Maybe, with one eye open and the finger on the delete key.

Nothing??? Wait, what’s this? AAAAAAHHHHHH!!!! 50 different IE windows popping up all over the place. Click, click, click, click!!! I can’t close them fast enough!!! (Wait, she’s kind of cute..... AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH GAY PORN, GAY PORN!! MY EYES! MY EYES!)

 Bong! You’ve got mail. Screw this, I don’t think I am going to look right now. I’ve had enough eye shock for right now.

RRRiinngg! Hey, someone is calling. I wonder if that’s my buddy calling to arrange that lunch date (Hooters here we come!). Uh huh, phone survey. Do I currently like my internet provider? (Do you realize that you are calling me at work where I provide internet to others???) What’s the weather like here? What kind of question is that, don’t you have a window to look out of?? Oh, your in New Deli. Why the F are you calling me about my internet service when you can’t even get your own decent one. Go call someone who gives a shit. Click.

RRRiinngg! Slowly punch the button. Hello? Why no, I didn’t get your email of 30 seconds ago. Something about my retinas burning out over something else that someone sent me. Not to mention the fact that email is not instant. I will check it as soon as it arrives. Click.

 Bong! You’ve got mail. Maybe this is the message that person just called about.

YOU WON ALL ACCESS PORN! ALL GAY ALL THE TIME! CLICK HERE AND START THE WANKFEST!

Some days you just can’t win. I think I’ll just open my snail mail instead. FUCK! Paper cut!!!!!! 

TORONTO -- A snow storm was the only thing that didn't rock the Champ Car World Series Steelback Grand Prix of Toronto. But the aptly named Will Power, of Australia, overcame all of yesterday's adversity to collect the win in the 22nd edition of the race on the temporary street course in the No. 5. Aussie Vineyards Panoz DP01.

Of all the things the race was, however, it wasn't even close to being a classic because of the rain, more rain and bad driving -- that started on the very first lap -- reducing Ontario's biggest motorsport event into a circus-like bumper car exhibition. Before the race was one lap old, Toronto's Paul Tracy drove over the front wing of rookie Simon Pagenaud and crashed his No. 3 Forsythe Championship Racing into the wall.

That started a chain reaction that ended up wrecking Alex Figge, Katherine Legge, Tristan Gommendy and Jan Heylen. All of a sudden, almost one-third of the 17-car starting grid was out.

Thirty-seven laps later, the skies opened up and mayhem ruled as the 3,400-kg race cars started sliding all over the 3.8-km track. By the end of the race, there were only five cars left on the lead lap.

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