That being said, a very wise man from a far away land has been generous enough to contribute his time to regale a delightful tale of woe and eventual madness:
"Hi. My name is Fernando H. Stevens. Generally, my ranting is limited to tales of customer inanity at the Dominion of Movies that I maintain. Sometimes, though, I feel the need to rant about things unrelated to the film industry because to not do so would horribly try my sanity.
I maintain an account on a certain Book of Faces that may be known throughout the internet. I am incredibly choosy in who I consider to be a friend, unlike those extravert superhumans who, apparently, are capable of maintaining over 600 meaningful relationships. So, for the most part, my Book of Faces' The Feed is comparatively empty.
Every so often, though, the Book of Faces tries impressing upon me other humans I do not know. It does this by throwing their status updates and comments into my The Feed and simultaneously affixing their name and profile picture thumbnail into the “Peeps Y'all Maybe Up In” section of the screen. By and large, this causes no issues for me. I ignore them, they ignore me, and life goes on.
Sometimes, though, these individuals produce something so vile, so tainted, so utterly and thoroughly wrong that I find myself glaring blankly at my monitor, slack-jawed and wondering how a human could possibly function in modern society with the cognitive faculties (or, more accurately, lack thereof) evidenced by the...the clusterfuck that is the online offering in question.
“yeah people are stupid lover. At least it was your last day. I'll see you tomorrow lover.”
Let us parse this...construction in a thorough and grammatical manner. First sentence, fixed for capitalization: “Yeah people are stupid lover.” It is obvious the thought being expressed here is that yeah people (perhaps a neologism for “yes men”) are stupid lover, some sort of British English collective noun that takes a plural verb. “Stupid lover” must be akin to “group of people who love things that are stupid.” So, in other words, kissasses are lovers of the inane. Clarity!
Next: “At least it was your last day.” No issues here. This sentence seems quite straightforward and, miraculously, lacks in any errors of grammar, spelling, or punctuation. Gold star.
Finally: “I'll see you tomorrow lover.” The “I'll see” section is a fine subject-verb construct, but what is this “you tomorrow lover” business? It seems to be an indirect object followed by a direct object. The individual sees the tomorrow lover, who is also doing...something...to you. Seeing you? Watching? Waiting?
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| Pictured: a You Tomorrow Lover [yoo tuh-mawr-oh luhv-er] 1) An unshakable being that is conjured from lack of punctuation 2) It loves you. Tomorrow. 3) The thing staring at you from the bathroom. 4) LOOK AT THE FLOWERS. Take your goddamn pills. |
Actually, I feel much better about this update after undertaking this lingual exercise. And, in hindsight, the writer is only trying to make a sociological statement, and providing a warning. A warning of the lurking tomorrow lovers. Raising awareness of these creatures can only be a public good."
If you wish to read more of this wise man's words (DO IT FOOL), consult:
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