"you own me, your site is funny, i am gay, i used dog shampoo, now take my shit off and dont subscribe me to mroe shit, because i didnt do that to you. learn to take a joke"

-one of my many "faithful followers"

Wednesday, April 05, 2006

Prichard- Complete

Below is a friend's "feeble attempt at humor."

The Pritch Files- Round 1
Dear TT Creator,
I consider myself a funny man, and your website is
what can be defined as "unfunny." I sent the link to
others that I work with and they all agreed with me
just how juvenile and thoughtless this website is. You
have single handedly generated a vortex of atrocious,
sub-standard delinquency that is detrimental to
humanity There are three things I would change about
your website:

1) Change the title from "Tuesday Times" to "unfunny
articles about bullshit and then some." I think this
subtle change would suit your purpose better and not
fool people with some kind of false endorsement like
"the real college newspaper." No, the real college
newspaper is the one that your college sponsors, my
friend.

2) Destroy it. I think that if the Tuesday Times
didn't exist, more children in Africa wouldn't starve.
Honestly, its existence keeps me from sleeping at
nights, in which case my wife has sent me to a
therapist because I won't tell her what the hell it is
that makes me cringe loud enough to keep her up. So
technically, the you owe me for my therapy bills.

3) Break your computer. Maybe when you look at the
scattered parts and broken pieces, you'll get it.
You'll get that forcefully restricting yourself to
your computer will shield onlookers from the vapid
disappointment that is you.

While I am revealing to you a truth that you won't
want to hear, it's vital that you understand your
failure as a mock journalist before you corrupt the
minds of too many with your dimwitted pointlessness.
Basically, you and your crew of morons (assuming you
have one) should stop writing, never think about it
again, and then write an apology to everyone who
burned their retinas reading your bullshit. Have the
apology read:

"I, (your name), am a dipshit with a knack for
defecating pathetic and unfunny bullshit. My apologies
for attempting to mold your sense of humor into the
scum I pick from my diseased foot. I manipulated your
sense of what is and what is not crap by creating 'The
Tuesday Times' and I hope you can accept this apology,
but I perfectly understand if you don't. Sincerely,
the lamest fuckhead on the planet, (your name)."

There you have it. In my opinion, even with this
apology, the redemption that you will seek from your
readers is an absolution that will never come.

Sincerely,
Prichard

The Pritch Files- Round 1 Rebuttal
This decently worded hate mail, aside from the plethora of grammatical errors, actually made me laugh. For those of you who know me, you also know that I don't really give a shit what any one thinks about this. I do it to pass my personal time, and if my writing makes someone giggle or cockasses like Prichard take time from his busy schedule of jacking off in a cubicle to escape the hatred of dick that his wife possesses, then so be it. And now my message to you, Prichard. First and foremost, you are indeed a "cockass." Even though I am greatly saddened that your office flled with pencil pushing retards don't like my work, you can pretty much fuck yourself. I'm more angered when my shit hits the toilet water and splashes my shit-toilet water on my butt cheeks than when I read your ironically "juvenile" hate mail. Stop surfing the internet and go back to making your wife miserable with your baby dick and emotional problems. Also, your insecurity about being some worthless dipshit in an office is all too obvious, maybe try to boost your self esteem by picking a fight with a kid with downs, or this new fad called "getting laid." As to your "the real college newspaper" comment, again, you can fuck yourself, my sweet Prichard. It does not have to be sponsored by my school, it just has to be liked by more than extremist dickholes that are completely swayed by what ten people out of twenty two thousand write. I'd rather people be offended, entertained, and pissed off about what I write than lulled to sleep by the pathetic bullshit that actually is our school paper. As to the apology that you had drawn up for me, how hypocritically sad that your only way of attacking me is by trying to write like me. Cute, Prichard, but I'm afraid not cute enough. Short of legally changing your- what most people call "gay"- name, I'd say sucking your bosses dick might be your only way to move up in the world. Let's face it Pritch, if I can call you Pritch, minimum wage loading staplers just isn't cutting it. Your wife needs far more so she can afford to go somewhere else to get the cock that you very obviously aren't giving her. And fuck your therapy bills, that's probably just from your daddy not loving you as much as he should. Or maybe too much for that matter. So go ahead and read this, Prichard, show your office mates, and write back yet another letter filled with your own special blend of hilarity uniqueness, because that is your one way to escape the mundane faggotry that is indeed, your life.


The Pritch Files- Round 2
Dear TT Creator,

Thank you for your response. After reading your
obviously well thought out rebuttal, I was speechless.
I couldn’t believe you completely figured me out;
never had I felt more naked. In fact, I perched myself
on a stairwell and lamented at my purposeless self and
at my microscopic member.

Wait, no I didn’t, because like humor you lack an
argument.

First of all, you mentioned that I a) masturbate in my
cubicle, b) am inadequate in bed, c) am insecure, d)
fight disabled kids, e) don’t engage in
intercourse/know about intercourse, f) would fellate
my boss, g) earn minimum wage loading staplers, h) was
not loved by my father, and i) am gay. Did you derive
all of this from when I said you weren’t funny? Or was
it when I said your “readers” wouldn’t forgive you?
OK, maybe I’m wrong. Maybe you got it from when I said
you should break your computer, or that I keep my wife
up at night. But, alas, it becomes clear that it is
impossible to obtain any of your remarks by reading my
criticism, thus proving my point that you fill your
readers’ (and your own) head with mindless hogwash.

Secondly, and as I mentioned above, every instance of
libel you assert lacks that of an argument. You
pointlessly beat around the bush, which is the fact
that I don’t like your work, and rather forge
inaccuracies based upon nothing but a manipulative and
vacuous imagination. This leads me to my next point,
which is that I write like you. As it is made evident
above, I wrote a coherent and argumentative
conviction, whereas you became lost in a chasm of
fictitious jargon. I don’t write like you, and
probably never will. I just can’t see myself as ever
being that fucking dull-witted.

You might be wondering the following: “If he detests
my writings so much, what could possibly drive him to
keep returning to my website?” Before you have a fit,
because you are more obvious than Elton John’s
homosexuality, I’ll explain. I stumbled upon your site
once, and realized how unspeakably pathetic it was.
After fathoming just how confrontational the writer
(you) would be, based off of your attempts at
rebelliousness, I decided to lend you a helping hand
and tell you the truth that so many most likely wish
they did before me. Then, you decided to embarrass
yourself by posting it on your site with a mediocre
rebuttal that a thirteen year old could have written.
So I couldn’t help myself, and here I am having an
electronic conversation with you. Props.

I also found it engaging that you suggested to me that
I should “go fuck myself” on several occasions. I
don’t know how that would rectify your doltishness or
my opinion. It only seemed to exacerbate the situation
by revealing your gift of hackneyed repetition. Sorry
to burst your bubble, you couldn’t write your way out
of a paper bag. Dipshit.

So go ahead, read this. Show your team of wordsmiths,
and attempt to pilfer whatever you can from my writing
and turn it into the greatest fabrication possible
with your obvious wit and overbearing charm, because
that is the way to keep filling innocent minds with
your relentlessly unnecessary bullshit.

Sincerely,
“Pritch”

P.S. For all your faithful readers, the creator of
this site emailed me the following: "hey cockass, i
added your sweet letter to my stash of unfunny
bullshit! check out the site now cockass! i heart you!
i want to lick your peter!”

You had 4 (four) grammatical errors whereas I had 2
(two). Kudos.


The Pritch Files- Round 2 Rebuttal

Pritch my boy. you are a literary god among men, and your boss is indeed lucky to have an employee with such an extensive vocabulary and written mastery of it as well. you have left me stunned, embarassed, and apologetic. you're right- your noble internet crusade to clean up the net by trying to make me feel bad has actually worked- well done good sir. however, to further our oh so delightful electronic conversation, i say to you again, "fuck yourself." you really just need to get a life man. and deriving this from all that is blatantly obvious in your writing and taking the time to get so worked up (i bet your glasses are even fogged up), you really just suck at being interesting, and being an individual. if you really care so much about what is on the internet, which trust me cockass, there is far worse (your letters alone have left many laughing their asses off that some pencil pushing baby dicked wife upsetting retard fighting geeked out cockass boss blowing faggot like yourself could really get so angry about some fake articles that gave some students something to read and comment on). and yes, my well thought out rebuttal (that was cleverly disguised as me typing while trying to keep your wife from using her teeth so damn much-for god's sake now i've got brush burns) did primarily consist of calling you a fag, telling you to fuck yourself, and making fun of your miniscule member. so fucking what. its the internet not a bar fight, cockass, calm down. before you continue to send me a barrage of letters that you so clearly need in your life to give you some fucked up and deranged sense of purpose, simply don't. yes, if you do, i'll probably go back and forth with you for a few rounds, just making up more false claims, you'll mock my writing as if that truly is what i believe to be intelligent and satisfactory, and you'll end up just as worthless as when you sent that first letter, cockass. realistically, the website was started in high school, aimed at such an audience, and very decently followed. in college, someone brought it up, thought it was funny, and suggested it be started again. and so it was. at no point in that saga of creation did anyone think, guess, or care about what Prichard Cockass Dunmeyer would think. And guess what cockass, they still don't. nothing you ever write back will ever make me feel bad/incompetent/worthless/stupid/immature/any other derogatory bullshit you implied with your letters. nothing you ever write back will ever make me delete/change/alter/get rid of/regret anything written on that page. i simply dont care. but i always have time for hate mail, pritchy poo. so come on cockass, initiate round three-show that keyboard what a man you are.

FINALE
Yes, it is true. The cock loving, ass pumping douche of the nation is in fact, Neal XXXXXX XXXXXXXXX. Despite my playing along with his Prichard Dunmeyer fiasco, that is posted on various places throughout the site, Neal actually did display some humor. The writing style, Neal, is what revealed you. That and the IP trace (it is further down the page). I know that Microsoft Word's thesaurus may help you sometimes Neal, but not here. And, I am protected for posting all of the information below by my disclaimer by the way. Hackers, have your fun.

HERE IS NEAL's Information:
Name: Neal X XXXXXXXXX
E-mail: XXXXXXXX@mail.utexas.edu
School/College: College of Communication

Major: Radio-Television-Film Ld

Classification: Freshman
Home Phone: +1 XXX XXX XXXX

Home Address: XXXXXXXXXXX
AUSTIN TX XXXXXXXXX
His IP address: XXXXXXXXXXX

He also has a web page: here
And a photosite: here

Dear Neal,
This is step one of you getting owned. Until I receive an apology stating:
(1) I own you
(2) My site is in fact funny
(3) You are gay
(4) Admit to that time you used dog shampoo for a month,
I will make it my personal mission to have you subscribed via U.S. Mail and e-mail, both to your home, school, and personal address back in Memphis (imagaine the horror when Karen opens a package filled with dildo offers addressed to her sweet child), and I will guarantee that every medium of media you possess is inundated with any bullshit I can find. I will be waiting for the apology. Until then, have fun with all of your new memberships, cockass.
Love, Me.

P.S. Sorry, I accidentally signed you up for a couple promotional offers. Have fun unsubscribing cockass.



Shortly after trying to, what is the term, fuck with me, here is a comment we received:

you own me
your site is funny
i am gay
i used dog shampoo

now take my shit off and dont subscribe me to mroe shit, because i didnt do that to you. learn to take a joke

-Neal