Exactly ONE person wishes "Happy Birthday" to the pesty, moronic, pushy, stupid, boring, obnoxious lying son-of-a-bitch SAKE JOHANNES DE VENTE.
What, no mention of diverticulitis, tinnitus, the wife falling down stairs, the "it doesn't look good" hospital reports, or the suicide threats because he's had SUCH a "life well lived?"
What, no discography of Hank Williams or "HAG" to celebrate how a human virus from Holland can manage to keep on infecting the world year after year?
What, no "you have 10 days to download what I stole from Green or Exy, my way or the highway, I'm the blogfather, here's my NEW BLOG" bullshit?
What, no "greatest hits" of Hansy good will, like "I wish you AIDS WITH EBOLA" or "I hope you die of cancer" or "Here's his name and address everybody, get him" to his LONG paranoid list of people who trusted him only to have him turn psycho and rabid?
Hansy Pansy, the Demented De Vente, can only put on his drag party dress and his aluminum foil hat, and tell a bunch of strangers it's his birthday. How PATHETIC. In the REAL WORLD, the only human he has any contact with is that moribund MOMMY he lives with.
It's like Norman Bates living with his mother. One's a PSYCHO and the other is pretty much a dead waste of space. And vice versa.
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