Dear Borg Dispatcher…

… I’m trying not to think of you as a cretinous, mouth-breathing moron who spends your days with your finger buried to the knuckle in one nostril, ostensibly pointing to your reptilian little brain…

… but you’re making it hard, dude.

I’m beginning to think that your brain only consists of three functioning neurons, one of which is infected, one infarcted, and the third inhibitory.

You might want to try making post assignments that don’t conjure images of a blindfolded chimp randomly throwing darts at a map.

Having a state of the art computerized dispatch system with GPS tracking doesn’t mean much when some consoles are staffed entirely with PEBKACs*.

*Problem Exists Between Keyboard and Chair.