by Anonymous [*]
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Greetings, keyboard warriors! I am Charles Carreon,
And I endorse this message: “Search and Destroy”
Because I’m a neighborhood threat to your internet.
You couldn’t be less educated and more uninformed
If you tried. And if you did, any sensible person
Would see that your efforts, your sweat was for naught.
You say I’m a bully. Well, fuck yes, I am. How, oh,
How do you think I’ve done well as a litigator for 25
Or so years? Did you think I made a living being
Nice as pie in court to scum? Or did you think, perhaps,
That lawyers who get results somehow must be bad
People, ipso facto? No, you’re just daft and dreary.
Some asshat who pretends to the Art of Parody
In a high style that is without style, though the author
May indeed be high, Dear Christopher Recouvreur,
Slaves at his work computer posting mini-missives
In a style no rational person could say resembles any
Of my many styles. Go fix the spill on aisle five.
And you, one-trick lawyer whose little painted wagon
Of a career rides on a very small body of law that
Allows creatures like Chris, who have never done any-
Thing of note since birth, who over-populate the earth,
To soar on the wings of mine own genius, my work,
My art, my skill and learning. Soon you’ll be burning.
And amid all the hell-fire churning will be the lot
Of other rapeutationists who once hid behind soft-
Ware bought from the Orient in order to defame and
Abuse for the sake of defamation and abuse. Perhaps,
Just perhaps, their parents threatened to turn off their
Internet connections if they didn’t do SOME fucking thing?
Oh Christopher, the lights the lights are calling! Go,
Go gentle into that good light that will obliterate you
And your dreadful prose, its horrid repetitions, mis-
Spellings, grammatical errors, syntactical flaws, still-
Born running gags in ruinous words that won’t help
You get a job doing your shit doodling for a living.
Was your lil mock-up website an attempt to get a job
From ol’ Matty Unman? You’d do better to fly up
To Seattle, don your best hipster douchebag kit,
Prepare your ass to get filled as Unman goes in dry,
Filling your rectum with his rank jism only to discard
You like so much diaper contents dumped on aisle five.
Christopher, I’m so sorry to hear that your limited
Mind can’t comprehend that a victory in court in 1999
Doesn’t qualify as “recent.” I refer to my litigation -
Epic win! - of the sex.com case. According to those
With minds like yours, the last amendment to the
Constitution in 1992 happened in 1879. Oh my.
And because you don’t understand the nature of
Intellectual property, you have to get another creep
Far more intelligent to you, but still operating at
Roughly thirty watts of brightness, in order to plead
Your noble suit to use my reputation in order to further
Your own. A reputation you could never, will never, have!
If you were to live a thousand lifetimes stocking shelves,
Emptying the heroin needles from the restroom at
Walgreens, compacting cardboard boxes, and, most
Likely, berating your few unfortunate subordinates,
You would rise no higher than the pubic hair of a rat.
You are, and will remain, nobody to anyone of import.
Which leads me to these final words for you, so suiting:
“Christopher Recouvrer passed recently in a basement
Apartment face down in a bowl of ramen and tears.
Let it be known no one in recent memory has done,
Said or been so little to or for humanity. Well, you know,
At least since 1999. Send money to cover his legal bills.”
* DECLARATION OF NON-AUTHORSHIP
by Charles Carreon
I declare under penalty of perjury under the laws of the United States of America that I did not write the poem entitled "WHEREIN, I, THE REAL AND PROPER CHARLES CARREON, ESQ. SPEAK UPON THE CHARACTER OF CHRISTOPHER RECOUVREUR AND COMPANY, RAPEUTATIONISTS ALL (THE POEM IS NOT VERY LONG AS THERE IS NOT MUCH CHARACTER OF WHICH TO SPEAK)."
Signed this 28th day of June, 2013
/s/ Charles Carreon