[...] as was already more than evident, but he misses his dead mommy a lot more than we thought: No one, ever, is going to give you, nor will you ever divine, what you need to be Dao. Ever.You’re…I left you in the dust, kid, and there you’ll secrete around in Da’ath until you’re no [...]
Even if the first post above is fake, it was too funny not to blog about. (We’re all so jealous of not being psychopathic retard magickal wannabes like Lunky, riiiiight…)
I love the adulation, the infamy. You losers empower me; as if the entire Masonic and political landscape isn’t proof enough that you dumb asses are insignificant to the Temple building process and your places in it.
You’ll continue to make up socks attributed to me. You’ll continue to bleed what little worth you have unto me. I love it.
Worship me. That’s what you’re doing.
Or you can be men and stand on your own. But you can’t; hence the begging.
You wont destroy me. You can’t. Nor can you escape the dread and the thoughts of me entering Dao. You’ve plenty to be dreadful about. And I’m done paying you mind.
Y’ know, this isn’t even a good Extinct Marsupial imitation, Citizen 68.2.140.130. A little too coherent, not enough grammatical errors. See here and here for some pointers.
Besides, if you’re who you claim to be (and Aktiophi as well), and whoever is attempting to pitch me on the merits of his Pentax is who he claims to be (i.e., the same person, but not Aktiophi), where’s that leave us…?
She did the best she could, dude. It was stomach prep. Your all’s stone heart work was just as useful, but my mom get raised first; and I’m talking from Dao not necromancy when she incarnates as a man. And I know her rage will be the end of most. That’s karma and justice. I’m more the skidoo rig Monte Carlo casino games type.
Maybe this escaped your notice, numbnuts, but this is my space you’re cluttering up with your tedious presence. Nobody invited you and nobody’s making you stay.
Fuck off, and take yer mummified mum with ya.
(Oh, the incoherence is much improved over previous efforts, Citizen 68.2.140.130. But weren’t you “done paying me mind”? I think your account’s overdrawn…)
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No one, ever, is going to give you, nor will you ever divine, what you need to be Dao. Ever.
You’re a pathetic, willless and impotent desire and hell-bound jack off.
I left you in the dust, kid, and there you’ll secrete around in Da’ath until you’re no more.
Wail. Stalk. Be jealous. Fear for your self-preservation. Die, wretchedly.
I’m going to raise my mother from the dead, and I’ll make sure she dances on you into nothing, cunt.
[...] as was already more than evident, but he misses his dead mommy a lot more than we thought: No one, ever, is going to give you, nor will you ever divine, what you need to be Dao. Ever.You’re…I left you in the dust, kid, and there you’ll secrete around in Da’ath until you’re no [...]
Good god, raisin’ the dead! « Aqualung93’s Weblog said this on November 9, 2007 at 11:34 pm
Even if the first post above is fake, it was too funny not to blog about. (We’re all so jealous of not being psychopathic retard magickal wannabes like Lunky, riiiiight…)
I love the adulation, the infamy. You losers empower me; as if the entire Masonic and political landscape isn’t proof enough that you dumb asses are insignificant to the Temple building process and your places in it.
You’ll continue to make up socks attributed to me. You’ll continue to bleed what little worth you have unto me. I love it.
Worship me. That’s what you’re doing.
Or you can be men and stand on your own. But you can’t; hence the begging.
You wont destroy me. You can’t. Nor can you escape the dread and the thoughts of me entering Dao. You’ve plenty to be dreadful about. And I’m done paying you mind.
Y’ know, this isn’t even a good Extinct Marsupial imitation, Citizen 68.2.140.130. A little too coherent, not enough grammatical errors. See here and here for some pointers.
Besides, if you’re who you claim to be (and Aktiophi as well), and whoever is attempting to pitch me on the merits of his Pentax is who he claims to be (i.e., the same person, but not Aktiophi), where’s that leave us…?
I’m done paying you mind.
Promises, promises.
IP this, asshole.
Hey, Mikey, there’s some guy sayin’ he’s you in Jersey City. I knew it was a lie, ’cause he’s not incoherent enough.
You’re not really planning on raising your mommy from the dead, are you? I really wouldn’t recommend it: I’ve seen that movie, it ends badly.
She did the best she could, dude. It was stomach prep. Your all’s stone heart work was just as useful, but my mom get raised first; and I’m talking from Dao not necromancy when she incarnates as a man. And I know her rage will be the end of most. That’s karma and justice. I’m more the skidoo rig Monte Carlo casino games type.
Now get off my jock.
Now get off my jock.
Okay, now I know it’s not our boy Torgo…
Now get off my jock.
Maybe this escaped your notice, numbnuts, but this is my space you’re cluttering up with your tedious presence. Nobody invited you and nobody’s making you stay.
Fuck off, and take yer mummified mum with ya.
(Oh, the incoherence is much improved over previous efforts, Citizen 68.2.140.130. But weren’t you “done paying me mind”? I think your account’s overdrawn…)
So, what am I gonna have to do, start a separate blog to keep track of the numbnuts impostor and his mummy too?
I doubt he’s worth the extra effort.
By the way, did you hear the latest news about all the marsupials with syphillis??
Someone’s been a little busy….