The Lurk has, over the last few months, sat by and watched this mailing
list slide deeper into the pits of Hell.
And the Lurk has stayed anyway, because the Lurk honestly believed that, as
long as a choice few good pieces of fanfiction could be found drifting
among the steaming rivers of festering monkey crap, then the FFML was still
worth something.
The Lurk would even have been content to sit and delete the holiday
greetings of a hundred rooty poo candy asses, like the Lurk did over the
Christmas weekend, because the Lurk is a sentimental kind of guy.
But one thing the Lurk will not....and the Lurk means WILL NOT...put up
with is the kind of senseless, moronic monkey crap that went down this
weekend.
The Lurk has had more than enough of this for the new, or ANY, millenium.
You say it was a joke? Well, the Lurk was not amused. No, the Lurk did not
find any of this crap one damn bit funny.
You jabronis are probably expecting the Lurk to make some comment at this
point about turning something sideways and sticking it up your candy asses.
Well, the Lurk isn't in the mood. The only thing you rooty poos are going
to hear from the Lurk is three things:
One: The Lurk will be contacting a select few authors whose fics the Lurk
does not think belong in a sewage pipe at the zoo. The Lurk would like to
continue reading some of the Lurk's favorite fics, and would offer to
preread, if those few fortunate authors want the benefit of the Lurk's
advice and expertise.
Two: The sound of the Lurk clicking 'send' on an unsubscribe message to
Listar.
And three, and most importantly:
If ya smell...
What the Lurk...
Is cookin'.
(One good joke deserves another, I always say. But the only joke here is
the Rock imitation. Adios, FFML...I's had all I can stands, and I can't
stands no more.)