Me: By the way, you are the most miserable sack of dripping effluent I have ever had dribbling its half-witted, grunt-sullen, obstreperous, feebleminded vomit of misery and slack-jawed drooling idiocy on my shoes in my entire life, and I hope the afternoon finds you stabbing and pulling on a rusty fishing gaff trying to claw out the bug that has obviously crawled up your laze-fattened arse. You are a credit to the depressingly useless realm of unprofessialism, ignorance, blind stupidity and groundless arrogance that calls itself the "Dymocks Book Chain". I hope a plague of brain-eating roaches swarms through your next Annual General Meeting and eats through your spinal cords, ravenously trying to find some semblance of sentient flesh.
...is what, of course, I did not say.
Dymocks, to me, are simply a pack of arsehats. The only consequence I can see when, should my sacrifices of entertainment lawyers and small lumps of fungus to the Elder Gods be noticed, they collapse into a fading stench of rank arrogance and stale obnoxiousness, will be that perhaps people who like books, want to sell books, and want to be nice while selling books to nice customers (I'm looking at you Borders Australia - Dymocks is a warning you have thus far heeded) will fill their spot.
In the meantime, remember, Dymocks aren't evil; they just suck harder than Paris Hilton in a post-game football locker room.
See, that's a rant. I feel somewhat better now.
Cheers,
Marc[/QUOTE]
Quit beating around the bush, and tell us how you
really feel
