AN OPEN LETTER TO BOB
Man, what is wrong with you, dude?
Even when you’re among people you ostensibly like, you look like a guy who has a turd inside his intestine that’s as big as a bowling ball, and no matter how hard he strains, he can’t eject it.
Life is too short, and time too valuable, to be a nattering nabob of negativity, a proponent of pessimism, a practitioner of rectal aperturity—especially in your case, dude, given your age and condition. Time—and Death—waits for no man, particularly a man who’s already expended a great deal of it.
I could never figure out why you’ve been such an old grouch, dude. You came into this world in a good family with solid emotional, spiritual, and financial stability; there’s no way you could have not turned out a winner…..unless you yourself choose not to.
You had a great time the two years you were in the military service, after which you got a well-paying well-benefited governmental desk-sitting job, which you held for decades until recently retiring…..with a pension and benefits that would be the envy of anyone else spending the same years in private enterprise.
You’ve had a pretty easy life, Bob, dude, sir.
So why are you always so ****ing angry, bitter, hate-filled, negative, about things?
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We don’t know each other well enough to compare our lots in life, dude, but I suspect it’s reasonable to speculate that franksolich has had a tougher row to hoe than you have, Bob. My autobiography’s writ all over the DUmpster, and while I myself tend to think life has treated me much more gently than I deserve, there’s plenty of others, in both real life and here in the DUmpster, who seem to disagree; they can’t understand that given such things, franksolich turned out as well as I did.
Always of good cheer, good-naturedly self-deprecatory, upbeat, hail-fellow-well-met, a Pollyanna who looks for something good in all things…..and usually finds it.
So tell me, dude—is there
anything in your life for which you’re grateful?