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Greetings, outdated vermin of a bygone era...

Von: sum cun`T (sum.cunt.4bv8i0@anonymous.com) [Profil]
Datum: 01.06.2010 08:22
Message-ID: <sum.cunT.4bv8i0@anonymous.com>
Newsgroup: alt.flame
Yes, you, you smelly buckets of festering camel's snot. Quit going the
grope on each other like a horde of demented and dribbling Dilberts.
This is important, involves more Miley Cyrus porn than you can
comfortably whack off to in a week and might therefore actually revive
your flagging sexual lives and reduce the need for you to fondle small
sweaty monkeys balls for want of anything better to do of a Friday
night.

I've been studying your antics through the portal located at the fine
forums of Brawl-Hall. Yes, you are weak, pathetic little wankers who
like as not have trouble doing up your shoelaces (or in the case of one
sad braindead bint I caught on the way over here, your velcro straps)
without tripping headlong and splitting your skull open on the steps of
whatever special bus ferries you about. Yes you have trouble working out
the mechanics of a spork without a set of detailed instructions complete
with diagrams and scratch and sniff panels to let you know you got it
right, right before you take an eyeball out. Yum yum. Yes, you're
probably already complaining about the use of long words, run on
sentences and mind-buggering tautologies your vacuum packed and limited
capacity intellects are wholly ill-equipped to deal with and whining for
me to get to the point. Very well, I shall.

Upstairs where the air is hale and hearty, where little birds twitter
in the trees (until some bastard like me uses them for target practice
and/or onselling to weirdos with twisted desires and more duct tapew
than might be considered seemly) and where the Washington State and
Turkish may happily bugger barnyard animals side by side without fear
of retribution, there lies a man. Well, okay, he's more like a
worthless pile of blubbering flab at this point... just call it a man
for the purposes of argument, alright? And this "man" is lonely.
Crushingly lonely. Whip out the razors and drag them up the highway
kind of lonely. You get the idea.

Anyway, we've established that he is wretched and pathetic, kind of
like you lot really. So I'm doing the christianly thing here and
inviting you snivelling pansies on a play date. You know, to
commiserate with each other on how terriblly worthless your drab,
heinously wretched lives are and what a fucked up bastard cunt I am for
having the nerve and poor form to rub your snotty noses in it.

He calls himself King Poofer. Most of the rest of us call him a
pathetic little wanker in red flouro tights and a distended anal
orifice you could lose a truck inside of, thats not the point. You will
recognise him from the extensive Trail of Fail across Flamers Hall (The
Creche) and may find him gibbering amidst the wreckage of his latest
abortion of an interforum bitchslap-fest. Pop up and say "Hi". After
all you DO seem to have a great deal in common with him.

Or not if you would prefer. Frankly, if I were in your shoes at this
point, I'd be telling me to get fucked and pretending I actually cared
enough to come back and read it. Which I don't. Suck dick.


--
sum cun`T
------------------------------------------------------------------------
sum cun`T's Profile: http://brawl-hall.com/forums/member.php?userid376
View this thread: http://brawl-hall.com/forums/showthread.php?t22059

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