So like I said, my girlfriend works at the library. She’s a sexy little minx, so I expect she’ll get hit on from time to time. I don’t mind that – as Ray Charles said, I can’t blame them, because she is fine. What disturbs me is knowing that it won’t be just everyday losers and pussy-hounds trying to get in her pants, but also folks with a feeble grasp on their own sanity – folks like the guy who handed Ashley his business card last week, one Mr. Larry D. Kump.
Why should not having a business stop someone from having a business card? Larry D. Kump can’t think of any reasons. It’s actually a good thing he doesn’t have any kind of commercial enterprise to promote, because he’s already got so much to say on the card that he takes up the front and the back:
Naturally, after I saw the address on that blog, I had to check it out. “Kumpster?” Having been afforded a glimpse into Larry’s sad and lonesome world, I believe he adopted the name voluntarily. Personally, I would have chosen something a little less evocative of a trash receptacle for semen, but to each his own. Business cards and weird blog nicknames aside, Larry clearly has some issues. From his website:
Items of note:
Larry has always been proud to be the father of David and Sarah, and notes that fact on his business cards, and stationery.
True enough, though since no one’s going to see this website without first having a business card shoved into their hand, I question the need to point it out again.
I've never heard him complain about his ex-wife. Whenever he discusses his marriage, he only talks about his mistakes and failures, not his wife's.
Well, obviously the marriage breaking up couldn’t have been Larry’s fault. Look at what a stable and well-adjusted man he is, afterall. He doesn’t even overtly mention his wife’s implicit and numerous mistakes and failures as a spouse and a woman. I’ve never heard him complain about her, either. It’s never encouraging when someone writes about themselves in the third-person, is it?
I've never heard him complain about his kids either. He only mentions that he wishes he had been a better father.
Did it ever occur to Larry to say this to his kids? Putting it on a website like this seems less like a touching admission from a regretful father and more like a pathetic, public plead for forgiveness. Anyway, it wasn’t Larry’s fault he was a bad father. Maybe if that castrating cunt of a wife had shown him more emotional support . . .
Feel free to send him greetings at the above mailing address or email. Remember that Larry has a very goofy sense of humor, (that's putting it nicely) so the wackier the card, the better. But he's also a man of high morals, (low on a lot of things, but at least he has high morals) so don't send him anything immodest.
For Christ’s sake, somebody make friends with this guy. I know it’ll be tough, but consider it a sacrifice for the greater good. Jump in front and take the bullet for the rest of us.
Larry is always willing to talk about his faith in Jesus Christ. You can found out more about the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints at Mormon.org or LDS.org.
Why does this not surprise me? I hope he’s not one of the guys who goes around knocking on doors. Mormons get a bad enough rap without the Kumpster showing up on the front stoop wearing his “Ask Me About My Kids” t-shirt and “#1 Dad” polyester trucker hat, and “I hardly ever bring up my wife’s fault in our divorce!” the first words out of his fucking mouth. That web log (or “blog”) of his doesn’t speak much better for his state of mind. I have to wonder about anyone who posts their complete mailing address and telephone number on a public website for the whole world to see. Then again, the exposure is probably nothing compared to what he gets after a day of working the library, passing out business cards. I probably shouldn’t pick on the guy; he’s obviously got enough problems without me piling on. It’s troubling to know that people like Larry are out there on the loose just wandering around. Maybe Ashley should take a self-defense class. Not a real karate class, just one of the ones they have for women where they teach you seventeen different ways to kick a guy in the balls and scream like hell.