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Well at least the NSA loves me, thinks man who will die alone.

Well at least the NSA loves me, thinks man who will die alone.

Raymond Flanders, an utterly lonely man, today screwed up his one last chance for happiness when he told his coworker Penny Gildenhorn that, "No, he doesn't need help with a consumer report." This of course was the end of it, as Penny, the last person on earth who could vaguely stand to be around him, now utterly despises him and will no longer bother to interact with him in any personal regard.

Raymond, a desperately sad man who subscribes to numerous conspiracy theories, will now partake in the last and most meaningful relationship, the fantasy that the NSA cares about the millions of information that they stole from him. The NSA, who can barely keep up with all the information they've stolen from almost every American citizen, whether they have committed a crime or not, has barely any use for Raymond's personal info.

Raymond will spend the rest of his life believing that they are after him, and use that to destroy any and all possibility of happiness, when the true nature of it is, Raymond himself is the reason they're destroying any and all of the happiness. Raymond is a small little man who doesn't matter; he never mattered. His job doesn't matter, and the people he works with don't matter. He has nothing, and should have realized that a long time ago. But there he goes, typing on the internet about how the government is after him. The government doesn't care about you Raymond, the government never cared about you.

I pity you Raymond, I really do. I would try and help you, but you'd yell about women, or minorities, and I can't. You're too hateable and pathetic. There isn't anything for you, what are you doing Raymond? Why are you stuck like this? Why do you want to be stuck like this? Why do you even want to be important, Raymond?

I'll tell you a tragic story, Ray, you see important, but you totally freak out. You would not do it, and it would end tragically for you. So tragic, but you're so useless that even somebody writing an article telling you that you're useless is the most important thing your life will ever have. And I'm sorry for that. I'm not sorry though in theory for that.

Oh, gosh. You know this guy must be furious. He's wearing the black shirt. With a skull on it.

Oh, gosh. You know this guy must be furious. He's wearing the black shirt. With a skull on it.

Why does God hate me - the five reasons why

Why does God hate me - the five reasons why

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