That Fracking Weasel

God, I hate David Pogue.

My obsession with him is almost as bad as my Steve Jobs obsession. What is it about Apple that draws such obnoxious, obsequious little twerps into its orbit? Seriously, I've spilled more ink over Pogue than any other columnist, and it infuriates me that he not only has his own column, but his own TV show, regularly appears on CNBC, has authored a series of books for both the Mac and Windows platforms that probably far outsell my own superior efforts, a blog, and God knows what else.

And he doesn't know a damn thing about tech. I'm the only one that does. Well, me and Rob Enderle. And sometimes Mary Jo Foley (who still rebuffs my drunken advances). I've been screaming this from the rooftops for years, and no one will listen. It sickens me. My overly-large gorilla hands are shaking as I write this, that's how angry I am.

It's a messed up world. Maybe once I lose all the weight I'm going to lose this year on my new diet that consists of fatty foods and not exercising, I'll be able to compete with this jerk.

Oh, and John Gruber doesn't know a damn thing, either, especially when it comes to the iPhone. Obviously.