Predator Press

One can only assume God, in His infinite wisdom, put me on this imperfect world in order to straighten some of this crap out.
So, bound by this sacred duty, I’m occasionally impelled to inform you of how things are going.
The current State of Affairs is “This Sucks.”
Now I know “This Sucks” is the same State of Affairs as the last time and the time before that-
-you know what? Now that I look, they all say “This Sucks.”
No, wait. Here’s one from when I was in college:
“****, This Sucks!”
Based on the steady decline of profanity in my notes, one can infer there has there has been some progress I suppose: “This Sucks” is clearly more subdued than “****, This Sucks!,” reflecting a small -yet undeniable- measure of suck reduction.
In fact if you think about it, Humanity is already reaping the fruit of my hard sacrifices and labor. There is no need to thank me -my humility suggests I would likely be too embarrassed anyway. Moreover I have deliberately made your doubtless gratitude for my contributions nigh impossible to express: you cannot, for instance, send me precious metals, high end electronics or luxury cars -heck, until my preemptive Temporary Restraining Order is lifted, you can't even call.
-But now that I think about it, a world without routes to ingratiate me seems a cruel and inhumane world too horrible to imagine. Fine. I will set up a PayPal account or something if you promise to stop sidetracking me with your incessant, woefully unrequited appreciation.
Anyway where was I? Oh yeah. The State of Affairs. This is probably the last one: I have decided to cancel all future 'State of Affairs' updates unless there is a change in the "This Sucks" status. Why? Because “This Sucks” appears to be the upper end of the spectrum for what even a gifted and impossibly handsome mortal man such as myself can accomplish, and I deem these reports redundant and needlessly depressing. The Earth sucks. There. I officially said it. And I know this will come as a rather unpleasant shock, but let not your heart be troubled: if necessary, cheer yourself up by beating the crap out of an environmentalist or something.
Worsening things the economy intrinsically bound to Earth sucks, and the hope for getting off of this planet and finding another one to complain about is unlikely in the near future: such exploration is often dicey and extremely expensive. Thusly forever imprisoned, we may find some solace in that the rest of the universe is a dump too -but isn’t this dubious comfort merely a further symptom of the colossal galactic scale of improbable and staggering suckitude that permeates all things known and unknown?
The mind reels ... with this irrefutable proof that my presence has made the Earth suck slightly less, how can we quantify the mind-bogglingly vast amounts of suck probably out there where I am not? You would have to invent, like, a whole new math. And math sucks, don't forget -this only deepens our situation further.

A famous smart guy once wrote something like “And with strange aeons, even sucking may suck.”
Man that guy was ahead of his time.
It was probably me. Or Einstein.
5 comments:
This was quite a sucky post you wrote here LOBO. Sucky but funny. :)
I'm off to a town park to find me an environmentalist to kick!
So is there a Sultan of Suckitude? Also, what happens when a universe described at This Sucks meets an alternative universe known as This Blows? Are these different sexual orientations or different settings on the orgasmatron? Does sucking on dark matter results in environmental spooge splatter? Your probation officer wants to know.
Hey Gang!
Sorry I’m so behind on comments. We recently had a death in the family, and things have been a little crazy for the past week or so.
-I’ll get caught up ASAP.
Lobo: Sorry to hear about the death in your family. Don't sweat the comments. Take care.
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