So the wife asks me if any co-workers gave me a Christmas gift.
Me: I got a box of really good toffee, I'll bring it home next time I go in.
Her: *makes a face* well that's weird. Seems like an odd gift.
Me; No, not really, I got some before- it's really good.
Her: Doesn't that hurt your teeth?
Me: I guess it can??
I come home with the toffee, open the box to give her some.
Her: *gets that little kid look on her face, I know some Trixie shit is coming* Oh, THIS is toffee?? I thought it was pink and stretchy.
Me: For fucks sake, that's Taffy.
No, it's cool to make fun of a cocksucker who among MANY other things told recruits to go somewhere else as he burned it all down on the way out because he's a narcissistic POS though.
Any time that fuck gets to suck on a loss is time for us to enjoy it.
SIL held a memorial service for James (the nephew) almost two weeks ago. No casket, no body. Army chaplain from his unit addressed the assembly. It was a real gut punch experience.
We learned that James was in charge of a small unit of volunteers that was helping to evacuate wounded people from one place to another place. James had told his unit to take the wounded they had gathered (by vehicle) and he stayed behind with one Ukrainian contact to assist more wounded that couldn't travel with the group/vehicle. They (James and the Ukrainian) had just gotten the wounded to a staging area/camp? when they were targeted by a Russian drone. He was killed in an explosion and there wasn't a body to recover.
Fuck that thin-skinned, narcissistic piece of shit. He intentionally torpedoed our chance to get a / the real coach in the door. And you're god damned right he's continuing to celebrate our mediocrity which is more the reason to hate the son of a bitch.