Folks, WTF with all these thin-skinned wussies who are reading the blog all of a sudden and complaining because they get offended? What the frig do you think this blog is about? Jesus. They don’t like the Bike Helmet Girl and think it’s like porn. Ya know what? I like porn. And if you really want to be offended, scroll way down to the bottom of this page and use the search engine to find “Big Mama Gummy Bear.” Or just read through all of the Yelptard posts, and then don’t let the door hit you on the ass on your way out. Okay? Have a nice day, you sensitive wilting flowers. Folks, the whole idea here is to give you an unvarnished look at my inner soul — to stand naked before my acolytes and let you know exactly what goes on inside the brilliant mind of Steve Jobs. You know what? It ain’t all pretty. But this is what genius looks like. This is how big ideas are born, with loads of blood and afterbirth and slimy stuff gushing from my man-cooze. (That’s right. I have one.) If you can’t handle the ride, that’s your problem. My other pet peeve is the people who keep saying the blog is too “commercial.” Um, right. This is a real slick operation. Very professional. Whew.
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