GLENN_THE_TOOL
07-25-2005, 05:25 PM
i hope Stenchfinger doesn't mind me ripping off his bit, Hoo Hoo. but his great letters have inspired me to write this:
My Letter from the Front Lines
Sirs, I sit here in my trench a weary soldier, but the good news I am reporting fills my soul with joy and pride. The Pat Battle has been long and hard, but we are winning! We have the enemy on the run. They are attacking using hit-and-run tactics, cowardly showing their faces briefly only to retreat under the cover of massive commercial breaks. Their camp appears to be in total disarray from our constant barrages. Their leader has clearly given up his maniacal threats, outlandish claims of success, and delusions of grandeur.
Our bombers are still receiving busy signals, but there is hope. The enemy is not returning their fire, but simply trying to ignore their onslaught. Why they do not return fire is mystery to me. Have they received orders not to respond to our attacks in order to launch a major direct assault against you, Sirs? Or have they simply lost the will to fight? I do not know, but the appearance that they may have prerecorded their show hints that they no longer have the heart nor the spirit to withstand wave after wave of phone line strafing and email attacks.
The commercial breaks are still taking out many of our men here on the front line. Some of them I can see some bleeding from the ears, and those I don’t see I can hear screaming in agony over yet another Watermania commercial. Taking in this horrific scene, I can honestly say now that war is truly hell. But they will not take me out with another Anti-Racism PSA, Sirs. Their commercials have become a strange kind of comfort to me now, as I sit here in my trench writing this, readying myself to charge the gates of their stronghold once again. These long commercial breaks have only affirmed it to me that they have no other way of fighting back, which serves as further proof that we are, indeed, winning. The regular doses of Advil I am taking are enough to stave off the mind-numbing pain caused by their leader’s deep, monotone voice, and my heart is swelling with pride because the Pat Battle is clearly in our favor now. I have also received word that the ministers and disciples of The Church of Opie have us in our prayers, which further strengthens my resolve.
So I stand here, among Pests new and old in unity. Have faith, Sirs. The end of the Pat Battle is in sight. But we must not relent. We have them on the run, but they can easily recover and regroup. We must take the opportunity we have now and wipe them off the map. We will prevail, we must. The time is ours! Charge!
My Letter from the Front Lines
Sirs, I sit here in my trench a weary soldier, but the good news I am reporting fills my soul with joy and pride. The Pat Battle has been long and hard, but we are winning! We have the enemy on the run. They are attacking using hit-and-run tactics, cowardly showing their faces briefly only to retreat under the cover of massive commercial breaks. Their camp appears to be in total disarray from our constant barrages. Their leader has clearly given up his maniacal threats, outlandish claims of success, and delusions of grandeur.
Our bombers are still receiving busy signals, but there is hope. The enemy is not returning their fire, but simply trying to ignore their onslaught. Why they do not return fire is mystery to me. Have they received orders not to respond to our attacks in order to launch a major direct assault against you, Sirs? Or have they simply lost the will to fight? I do not know, but the appearance that they may have prerecorded their show hints that they no longer have the heart nor the spirit to withstand wave after wave of phone line strafing and email attacks.
The commercial breaks are still taking out many of our men here on the front line. Some of them I can see some bleeding from the ears, and those I don’t see I can hear screaming in agony over yet another Watermania commercial. Taking in this horrific scene, I can honestly say now that war is truly hell. But they will not take me out with another Anti-Racism PSA, Sirs. Their commercials have become a strange kind of comfort to me now, as I sit here in my trench writing this, readying myself to charge the gates of their stronghold once again. These long commercial breaks have only affirmed it to me that they have no other way of fighting back, which serves as further proof that we are, indeed, winning. The regular doses of Advil I am taking are enough to stave off the mind-numbing pain caused by their leader’s deep, monotone voice, and my heart is swelling with pride because the Pat Battle is clearly in our favor now. I have also received word that the ministers and disciples of The Church of Opie have us in our prayers, which further strengthens my resolve.
So I stand here, among Pests new and old in unity. Have faith, Sirs. The end of the Pat Battle is in sight. But we must not relent. We have them on the run, but they can easily recover and regroup. We must take the opportunity we have now and wipe them off the map. We will prevail, we must. The time is ours! Charge!