I hope he calls Pat.
Naturally, that FOOL Ray sent me his phone pictures, and just as naturally, I DELETED them without opening them. I REFUSE to have any communication with that man until he refunds my check for his last party. (I was instructing the manager at Books-A-Million how to improve their shelf selections and simply lost track of the time.)
(The only reason I was going to go to the party in the first place was to pique the interests of folks to buy my poetry book. I knew that DOLT Ray wouldn't have any proper vegan food anyway.)
I knew it was Ray calling without even picking up the phone. I had Roast Beef program my ringtones so that each number played a soundbite of Chomsky speaking Truth to Power. The quote for Ray was a particularly scathing indictment of just the sort of person he is. The ringtones are pretty much the ONLY intelligent part of any conversation with the FOOLS who seem to have my cell number. (I have not yet figured out the blocking feature.)
Beef is kind of clever with soul-less, sterile things like computers. I offered him some dried-acorn bisque as payment but he declined, saying he was late for some meeting. I thought he could use some healthy food, as I have never seen a man grimmace so often in such a short space of time--I suspect he has picked up some rotten variant of the Clap from that trollop he insists on wasting his time with.
I'm glad I could bring something of intelligence to this discussion--I feel it is my duty to help those less gifted than myself.
--Pat Reynolds