Meet Jim.

Jim clearly has “issues” as the shrinks say. He has never accomplished anything, never contributed to human knowledge, has never been anything but a drain on the canadian society that feeds him. Though he languished in the school system long enough to use up a substantial portion of daddy’s cash, he never learned a single thing, and has learned nothing yet.

Jim, who could buy me, and all the bloggers he reads, including Dick, Misha, and Kim Du Toit (who he labels “plagerist” (his spelling- you’d think with a college education he’d be able to spell his insults, but, sadly, no) out of pocket change. He keeps it all in his palatial mansion here And he is smarter than us all. Just ask him.
No patents exist in his name in Canada, and only one patent (or part of it) exists in the USA under his name, but that Jim is from Zurich. And it’s a patent for something asinine, so it is possible that Jim did play a part in it’s invention. Of course, that invention came from CERN, where they tend not to employ fucktards, so who knows.

Anyway, the real shame is, Jim ended up working for an oil company in Canada. You know the one, it’s the one that spilled all that oil on Alaska’s coast. And he couldn’t even get THAT job, losing out to a drunk. No, instead he works in the siberian salt mines of the oil industry, kicked out of the corporate offices to a remote location where there is only hope if the oil prices become abnormally high. Which, of course, they have. So poor jim, feeling his oats because he now feels important, decides to snap and start pissing around here. He’s too much a coward to mouth off around his own workers, who would slit his throat if given a chance (by his own admission, when his back is turned, they all say “phd arsehole”) So here, from behind the safety and security of his bedroom, or lonely office, he posts big talk about how tough he is. Fact is, he’s pathetic. If he was a man, if he would get on a plane and meet me here, or meet Dick in Texas, and mouth off in person, I could have some respect for him. Instead, I pity him, as he will die as he lived; unloved, unliked, alone, and pathetic. His enormous brain, useful only for keeping his ears separated, will turn even more to putrefied scum, and leak out those enormous ears onto the cheap satin lining of the coffin his next of kin will provide, while they spend his money on themselves.

Sorry, Jim. I knew you werer damaged, and I knew you were a cowards and a fool, but I had no idea you were so badly off. Hope you grow some balls someday, but I doubt it. The morons at Big Oil have you effectively neutered, keeping you on the golf course whenever possible so you can’t fuck the business up too badly.