Fuck You Facebook Cop!
Dear Volunteer Asswipe of the Facebook Police Department,
Go fuck yourself. Seriously, do us all a favor and take your petrified, shit-eating, collective pussy-asses off the computer and get a fucking life. Just because you don’t have a job doesn’t mean that everybody else wants to sell you something. If I read a good book, and want to recommend it to my real friends who just happen to be on Facebook, that doesn’t mean that I’m selling it. And who the fuck asked you anyway? Granted, if the book just so happened to be on “How To Move Out Of Mom’s Basement Before Age 40,” then I probably would tell your fat, sloppy ass to go buy it. Only problem is, I don’t think they take Farmville money at Barnes & Noble, you stankin’ piece of dog shit. You pussies should start your own club or something, just keep it in cyberspace Fucknut. And if you do insist on bringing your ugly, pathetic self into the real world, then yes, I would beat the fucking snot out of you. I’m tired of you fucking dick-lickers trying to “warn” all your faux Facebook ”friends” about who’s trying to rip them off. You’re fucking annoying, and I would love to kick your ass. Since you can’t give me the 4 seconds of my life back that I wasted thinking about what kind of pubic-mustache you’re sporting, you could at least make it up to me by offing yourself. I’m pretty fucking certain that none of my “friends” are children who need your bullshit protection. If I wanted to sell one of my turds on Facebook, then I’m gonna fucking do it whether you’re monitoring my conversations or not. What, did the mall security task-force not need another wank to monitor the hallways? Fucking O.J Simpson thinks you’re a worthless sac of shit. However, I bet you’re a complete bad-ass in your “fantasy” football league, despite the fact you’re fucking horrible at real sports. When is that baby you’re carrying due anyway? From the looks of that belly and those man-tits, it must be any day now. Can men really get pregnant in whatever fucking world you live in Facebook Cop? And do you have a “fantasy” girlfriend who roots you on in all your “fantasy” sports leagues? If so, I bet she’s still fucking nasty. After all, it takes more than shit-for-brains to think that hard. On a serious note, (that’s “fantasy” code for ”from the perspective of a lifelong loser”), I do have a product that I think might work for you. I been trappin’ squirrels ya see, but after I skin ’em and eat them fuckers, I ain’t got nothin’ to do with the pelts. I thought about gettin’ some double-sided tape and whoopin’ up a fur coat that I could sell to some dipshit on Facebook. Of course, that was before I knew that there was a volunteer FB Sherriff who sat at the computer all day, jumpin’ at any chance you got to bust the asses of people whom you don’t know for trying to “sell” shit to people who have never heard of your punk, bitch-ass. And since no one recognizes the dog in your profile picture, we’re left only to wonder exactly how hideous that rectum-resembling face of yours is. We also know that the canned mushroom you’re trying to pass off as a second belly-button is really the remnants of a dick you haven’t seen since your stomach ate the shaft, you monkey-fucking, fecal-eating, worthless piece of shit! Translation: Since that “second belly button” isn’t capable of impregnating anything non-fantasy, we know that’s not your kid in what’s supposed to be your picture. Not to mention I just came from TJ Maxx where I saw that “fantasy” son of yours in some trashy, $4 frame, which just so happened to be on sale for $2. What, was the $8 little girl too expensive? Of course, nobody is gonna rip you off Facebook Cop! You can spot a charlotton from anywhere in the world now that you spend 21 out of 24 hours on Facebook patrol. How many people do you think you’ve busted Facebook Cop? Better yet, how many innocent, non-mentally-retarded fair maidens do you think you’ve saved from being conned by guys like me? I bet you’re responsible for saving thousands of people A LOT of money!*
(Non-fantasy translation: You haven’t done a goddam but annoy people.)
I don’t know if that dude you call Mom didn’t give you enough hugs as a kid or what, but I guarantee you she wants you to get a job so you can move out of his…I mean “her” basement, and maybe even buy yourself a nice piece of real estate underneath the Broadway fuckin’ Bridge asshole. No, no, no, I don’t sell real estate, so don’t start in with that shit. I’ll tell you what though, and you can’t tell anybody else, but I got a guy who might be able to hook you up. You’d have to pay me for that information though, of course. Wait…damn it! I keep forgetting you don’t have any money. That is such bullshit that you got layed off from the Hermit Crab Hut in the mall. That job was perfect for a dick like you! I guess you’re just a royal fucking pain in everybody’s ass, huh? By the way, I loved you in Dateline’s To Catch a Predator. Too bad those real cops who busted your punk-ass for wanting to wrap your digits around some 8-year-old’s coin purse wasn’t a fantasy! Did you hammer those fuckers (a.k.a. actual police officers) from the back seat of the squad car for trying to “sell” people into thinking you’re a shameless, predatory freak who get’s a “fantasy” boner every time you play the role of Better Business Bureau, Facebook style? Well here’s a little word of advice Officer Facefuck: Stay the fuck out of my business; or even better, throw yourself off a bridge. Nobody wants to sell anything to a disaster such as yourself anyway. It’s bad business. However, any Non-Facebook Volunteer Cops who have a life outside of fantasizing about all the virtual citizen’s arrests they made today, I’ll be on Facebook tonight at 9 p.m. selling everything I can think of. You need it, I got it, and I’m sellin’ the shit out of it. And if I don’t have it, I can get it. Anything at all! Everything is negotiable, simply name your price! If there’s gonna be a Facebook PD, then we’re gonna need a Facebook Convenience Store, and Ol’ Bo Sweatpants is now open for business!
