When Steve Jobs died (most likely as a direct result of the shoddy piece of iCrap that his company launched just 24 hours earlier), tearful simpletons across the globe gathered around his grave to pay homage to the genius who Changed The World?, one recycled idea at a time.
When the prophesied iJobs resurrection failed to materialise three days later, a handful of maverick thinkers finally dared to suggest that maybe Stevie J wasn’t Jesus incarnate after all, and perhaps all the gushing, glassy-eyed dogma spewing across the Internet might have been a teensy, weensy bit overblown.
Various stories began to bubble to the surface about Jobs being generally a bit of a git-about-town, and the leaked preview of a suspiciously well-timed “definitive biography” revealed he was in fact a dirty, smelly, LSD-addled hippy with a bitter, venomous hatred towards anything that looked remotely like fair competition in the marketplace. And that’s not even mentioning his various attempts to abandon his first daughter.
The latest, and perhaps classiest, reveal is that the world’s favourite rich, benevolent, cuddly (though perhaps a bit less so during those last few months) uncle found and exploited the world’s most expensive legal loophole to fuel his neverending quest towards being the biggest jerk in Silicon Valley.
It seems, way back in the ’80s, Stevie discovered a loophole that allowed him to drive his car without number plates, provided it was less than six months old. This comes in particularly handy when you have a taste for parking in disabled spots and would rather fork out hundreds of thousands of dollars, twice a year, on a new Mercedes than pay the perfectly justifiable civil fines that go with it.
According to time-weathered Apple code-monkey Andy Hertzfeld:
“Whenever you saw a big Mercedes parked in a handicapped space, you could be sure that it was Steve?s car.”
When questioned back in 2001 about why he never had number plates on his car, Steve explained it was because he was dedicated to smooth clean lines and the number plates spoiled it liked to dodge tickets saying:
“It’s a game I play.”
Presumably, seeing as he was playing this delightful “game” against genuinely disabled people, Steve would usually emerge from the post office wearing a gold medal and a shit-eating grin at least 20 minutes before the competition had managed to find a parking spot and get their crutches out of the boot.
Stay classy, Steve.
This guest post was written by Arthur ASCii who hasn’t seen daylight in one-hundred years and thoroughly hates all humans equally because he’s fair like that
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uSuck says
recycled ideas? oh like microsoft has made a living doing? copying everything apple does?