Okay, booger-brain. Right here. Right now. You and me. I’ve had it with your smug, self-righteous tone and your condescending manners. PLUS, you haven’t got the brains of a retarded cow. So if you’ve got the cajones to answer, I’ll be here, ready to bitch-slap you, you sorry waste of skin.
Yeah? You think you can? I might be worried if you weren’t such a craven, weaselly, malodorous cretin. You couldn’t get your arms up high enough to slap a leprchaun, what with your head so firmly up your ass, asshole. Kiss my ass.
No thanks, I don’t want a mouth full of fur, you pathetic lump of rancid pudding. And you say I’m an asshole? YOU’RE the asshole, dipshit. Maybe if you weren’t descended from a shit-licking fly and a hairless goat you could get enough of those spasms you call “thoughts” together and make a valid fucking point for once in your miserable life, you stupid jerk.
Fuck you, you fucking fuck, and your whole fucking family and the fucking horse you fucking rode in on, and anyone who fucking looks like you. Fuck off.
Got out the dictionary, eh? What, you think that kind of shit carries any weight? What a pathetic, stupid attempt at a post. Everybody here can see me kicking your ass, and you haven’t got the sense to just give up!
Just the kind of arrogant crap we all expect from you, jello-head. The day I give up to you, you, infantile, rambling, borbrygmus, nimietic, crapulous, zoo-monkey is the day I stop breathing. If I knew where you live I’d come over there right now and kick your ass for real. You’re so brave when you don’t even have to be in the same room with me, you stinking coward.
Anytime you want, pansy-boy. The day you stop breathing, I’ll breathe easier, because the foul, noisome exhalations of your malodorous breath adulterate the airs of this whole world. Can you really think I’m going to be intimdated by your threats? Your gumdrop belly and toothpick arms and legs are real scary. Oh, Save me! Save me!
That’s right, squeal even louder than the frantic bleating you usually inflict on us as “posts”, sewage-face. And these toothpick legs are going to kick your ass so hard, you’ll be shitting out your nose for the rest of your life. You’ve got less balls than a hockey game, and you don’t dare face me. Everyone here can see it, you dickless pedarast.
What kind of twisted, lithium-deficient fantasy have you constructed in that drug-riddled, two-ounce, so-called “brain” of yours? I’m surprised the moderator hasn’t shut you down for threatening people. How do the rest of us know you’re not some kind of schizoid psycho? And you can’t, by definition be a dickless pedarast, you pitiable absurdity.
Number 29 last week.
Number 16 this week, and still climbing:
Schozophrenia Blues-- APB9999.
“Schizoid psycho” ?! From YOU?! That’s it! I want you, asshole. email me NOW!
You want trouble, you got it.
Boring day?
Seems so.
Don’y know that I’ve ever actually watched someone jerk off online before.
Yet another interesting way to increase ones post count.
“You can be smart or pleasant. For years I was smart.
I recommend pleasant.”
Elwood P. Dowd
Hey, I never thought of that PUNdit. That is it! I am starting a thread about what a gravy sucking, nose picking twit SINsApple is!
hehehe, triple digits here I come. . .YEAH BABY!
“I celebrate myself, and sing myself, and what I assume you shall assume, for every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.” --Whitman
So THAT’S what self-flagellation looks like. I must’ve been doing it wrong…
>< DARWIN >
__L___L
< rolling eyes >
Whatever floats your boat dude.
Whatever turns the pages in your book dude.
Whatever cranks your engine dude.
Whatever…dude.
=====
Life is certainly strange when you start flaming yourself, you might check into a psychiatric hospital. Posssibly though, you might fight yourself into staying out.
My money is on APB9999.
Changing my sig, because Wally said to, and I really like Wally, and I’ll do anything he says, anytime he says to.
This thread vividly reminds me of Fight Club.