Skip to comments.Goodbye cruel world - I'm off to join the circus
Posted on 06/13/2014 5:23:48 AM PDT by JoeProBono
See ya. Write if you find work.
Hope you get the best kind of job.
Best of luck.
You can’t leave. We’re all stuck with each other.
Heck, we’re livin’ in one. No need to leave home. :>}
What is this? A drunk poster at 7:30 am, an opus, or a literal suicidal last goodbye? Do we know it’s not the latter?
Style points for Pink Floyd, but it’s still a lame opus, lol.
Oh yeah. I forgot. PF can kiss my royal red a$$.
No parting thoughts?
Good luck, hope it’s fed up, not bad health.
No parting thoughts?
Life’ a bitch and then you....
I don’t believe you.
Say it ain’t so, Joe....
Does anyone personally know this FReeper and can check on them perhaps? We all are in this together.
Here is post 15:
Maybe I’m just overly-alarmed, but just saying.
Can you post pictures at the circus? No. So don’t leave. We love your pictures.
Damn you. I always love the funny pics and photoshops you post.
Why are you deserting your unit soldier?
Don’t do a Bowe Bergdahl on us.
Don’t go Joe. Stay. We’ll start having fun. I promise.
Don’t go, man! Buy a sheep ranch in Mt. and go Galt.Don’t join the present administration!
Say it ain’t so, Joe.
Please don’t go, Sir.
I love your posts. I’ve been bummed out by side three of “the Wall” more times than I care to count. There’s optimism though. Don’t let them destroy you. We care about you.
I haven’t the vaguest idea. I’ve seen Joe Pro Bono around for years and would hate to see him suicidal, but if he is, that’s his decision. I’m not sure Free Republic would be the place I’d post a suicide note.
If he chooses to be cryptic, I’m not sure what we can — or should — do in pursuit of more detail.
Afraid of that.
I about logged out of here a couple of years ago when I was diagnosed with cancer. My faith in Christ was about my only hope.
Well I will miss your wit and clever pics. I hope you are not ill or anything. Best of luck to you mister.
See you tomorrow.
Looks like a suicide attempt to me. I hope that isn’t the case.
We’re all gonna die anyways. America is finished. Savages and evil men will rule us. There will be death camps and oppression and purposefully-crafted avian flu plagues. We are through. It’s over. There’s no point to going on. All the morals, all the love, it’s all wasted and into nothing. There is no joy in America. Nothing is worth a damn. We should never leave our beds. There is no hope. Everything sucks and then you die and that sucks too. There is no reason to go on. We should all just die. I hate life and life hates me.
....but there’s coffee and bacon, birds chirping and morning dew on the lawn, so I can’t pop smoke just yet...
May you be feeling better soon.
You had me worried there for the past three weeks or so. I miss you.
You’re joining the Obama Administration?
Man, he sure has a lot of stuff on his home page. For you computer types out there, does this mean his leaving will free up a lot of space and we will be able to skip a fund raising?
Hang out a while longer, Joe.
We have the World Cup to watch.
The World Cup is awful. Sports sucks. Things rust. Decay is everywhere. Entropy is coming. I hate malaria. Nothing is ever the same. Differences abound. Things are confused. Nobody wants the crown. Horses poop. Stuff is happening.
Go shooting outdoors.
Range Therapy cures almost anything.
(I’m going today)
I don’t recommend it. I ran away from home and joined the circus when I was ten. Oh, the other kids had aspirations of being astronauts and ballerinas and firemen, but not me. I wanted to be The Cotton Candy Guy. Yeah, I know what you’re saying. That’s a pretty lofty goal for a kid with no shoes. I lost them shooting craps, but I digress. The thought of spinning and selling that pink, fluffy numminess filled my youthful brain.
“Cotton candy! Get yer cotton candy!”
I would wear my white paper cap and red and white striped jacket. Girls love a guy in a uniform.
Alas, as with so many youthful dreams, it didn’t work out. You don’t start out making and selling cotton candy. They start you out as the fitness instructor for the lions and tigers. This involves running around their performance cage as fast as you can in an effort to keep from being their lunch. I called OSHA and they just told me to run fast.
I asked the circus owner when I could start my training to be The Cotton Candy Guy. He said Harvard wasn’t accepting any more applications that year.
I ended up standing in the rain in Peoria trying to thumb a ride back home. My time in the circus did prepare me for the career that has given me wealth and fame......Hillary Clinton’s Personal Assistant.
I believe I’ve read some of your amazon product reviews.......they’re excellent, BTW.
The coffee sucks. It’s cold and bitter. Just like my girlfriend. There’s a hole in the cup anyways, and the sugar has ants in it. I hate bees. BEEEEEEEEES.
It's there waiting fer yez. Hundred thousand acres and more.
But bring a big checkbook.
Hot brass falls down my shirt. There’s too many bees. The heat is oppressive. I dropped a box on my foot.
Amazon sucks. The reviews are even worse. Clouds piss me off. You don’t have candy, do you?
You wear a shirt when you shoot?
And here I’d thought you went Rambo style.
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