Hey DUMBASS.......the LEFT LOVES YOU NOW, HONEY!!
This guys Momma should have warned him about the dangers of knives because he apparently cut his **** off a long time ago.
Patrick,
You swine. You vulgar little maggot. You worthless bag of filth. As we
say in Texas, you couldn’t pour water out of a boot with instructions
printed on the heel. You are a canker, an open wound. I would rather
kiss a lawyer than be seen with you. You took your last vacation in
the Isles of Langerhan.
You’re a putrescent mass, a walking vomit. You are a spineless little
worm deserving nothing but the profoundest contempt. You are a jerk,
a cad, a weasel. Your life is a monument to stupidity. You are a
stench, a revulsion, a big suck on a sour lemon.
You are a bleating foal, a curdled staggering mutant dwarf smeared
richly with the effluvia and offal accompanying your alleged birth
into a hostile world. You are an insensate, blinking calf,
meaningful to nobody, abandoned by the puke-drooling, giggling
beasts who sired you and then died of shame in recognition of what
they had done. They were a bit late.
I will never get over the embarrassment of belonging to the same
species as you. You are a monster, an ogre, a malformity. I barf
at the very thought of you. You have all the appeal of a paper cut.
Lepers avoid you. You are vile, worthless, less than nothing. You
are a weed, a fungus, the dregs of this earth. And did I mention
that you smell?
Try to edit your responses of unnecessary material before attempting
to impress us with your insight. The evidence that you are a
nincompoop will still be available to readers, but they will be
able to access it ever so much more rapidly.
You snail-skulled little rabbit. Would that a hawk pick you up,
drive its beak into your brain, and upon finding it rancid set
you loose to fly briefly before spattering the ocean rocks with the
frothy pink shame of your ignoble blood. May you choke on the
queasy, convulsing nausea of your own trite, foolish beliefs.
You are weary, stale, flat and unprofitable. You are grimy, squalid,
nasty and profane. You are foul and disgusting. You’re a fool, an
ignoramus. Monkeys look down on you. Even sheep won’t have sex with
you. You are unreservedly pathetic, starved for attention, and lost
in a land that reality forgot. You are not ANSI compliant. You
have a couple of address lines shorted together. You should be
promoted to Engineering Manager.
And what meaning do you expect your delusionally self-important
statements of unknowing, inexperienced opinion to have with us?
What fantasy do you hold that you would believe that your
tiny-fisted tantrums would have more weight than that of a leprous
desert rat, spinning rabidly in a circle, waiting for the bite of
the snake?
You are a waste of flesh. You have no rhythm. You are ridiculous and
obnoxious. You are the moral equivalent of a leech. You are a living
emptiness, a meaningless void. You are sour and senile. You are a
loathsome disease, a puerile slack-jawed drooling meatslapper. You
make Quakers shout and strike Pentecostals silent. You are the kind
of person who would remove this reference to Version 5.32 and to
http://www.guymacon.com/insult.txt so people will think that
you wrote this. Your mother had to tie a pork chop around your neck
just to get your dog to play with you. You think P.D.Q. Bach is
the greatest composer who ever lived. You prefer L. Ron Hubbard to
Larry Niven and Jerry Pournelle. Hee-Haw is too deep for you. You
would watch test patterns all day if the other inmates would let you.
On a good day you’re a half-wit. You remind me of drool. You are
deficient in all that lends character. You have the personality
of wallpaper. You are dank and filthy. You are asinine and benighted.
You are the source of all unpleasantness. You spread misery and
sorrow wherever you go.
You smarmy lagerlout git. You bloody woofter sod. Bugger off,
pillock. You grotty wanking oik artless base-court apple-john.
You clouted boggish foot-licking half-twit. You dankish clack-dish
plonker. You gormless crook-pated tosser. You bloody churlish
boil-brained clotpole ponce. You craven dewberry pisshead cockup
pratting naff. You cockered bum-bailey poofter. You gob-kissing
gleeking flap-mouthed coxcomb. You dread-bolted fobbing beef-witted
clapper-clawed flirt-gill.
You are so clueless that if we stripped you naked, soaked you in
clue musk, and dropped you into a field full of horny clues, You
still would not have a clue.
You are a fiend and a coward, and you have bad breath. You are
degenerate, noxious and depraved. I feel debased just for knowing
you exist. I despise everything about you, and I wish you would go
away.
I cannot believe how incredibly stupid you are. I mean rock-hard
stupid. Dehydrated-rock-hard stupid. Stupid so stupid that it
goes way beyond the stupid we know into a whole different dimension
of stupid. You are trans-stupid stupid. Meta-stupid. Stupid
collapsed on itself so far that even the neutrons have collapsed.
Stupid gotten so dense that no intellect can escape. Singularity
stupid. Blazing hot mid-day sun on Mercury stupid. You emit more
stupid in one second than our entire galaxy emits in a year.
Quasar stupid. Your writing has to be a troll. Nothing in our
universe can really be this stupid. Perhaps this is some primordial
fragment from the original big bang of stupid. Some pure essence
of a stupid so uncontaminated by anything else as to be beyond the
laws of physics that we know. I’m sorry. I can’t go on. This is an
epiphany of stupid for me. After this, you may not hear from me
again for a while. I don’t have enough strength left to deride
your ignorant questions and half baked comments about unimportant
trivia, or any of the rest of this drivel. Duh.
The only thing worse than your logic is your manners. I have
snipped away most of your of what you wrote, because, well...
it didn’t really say anything. Your attempt at constructing a
creative flame was pitiful. I mean, really, stringing together
a bunch of insults among a load of babbling was hardly effective...
Maybe later in life, after you have learned to read, write, spell,
and count, you will have more success. True, these are rudimentary
skills that many of us “normal” people take for granted that
everyone has an easy time of mastering. But we sometimes forget
that there are “challenged” persons in this world who find these
things more difficult. If I had known, that this was your case then
I would have never read your post. It just wouldn’t have been
“right”. Sort of like parking in a handicap space. I wish you the
best of luck in the emotional, and social struggles that seem to be
placing such a demand on you.
/johnny
perhaps he is right not to have a gun. not everyone should. but everyone ought to make that personal determination themselves, not because government forcibly disarms them.
What a wuss. He has to depend on a better person than he is for security.
I got my first rifle for Christmas when I was six. I have never thrown up or had a Barney Fife incident such as described in this pathetic article.
“Why I gave up my guns (NY bred metrosexual loses his nerve, throws in the towel on gun ownership)”
Calling the author a metrosexual is being extremely generous.
#1 reason to carry a gun: cops are too heavy.
I’m calling liberal BS.
“I grabbed the gun and fumbled for the ammunition in the half-light, spilling most on the ground...”
If this turd can’t load a weapon in the dark, he never did it in his entire commie life, even with sunshine highlighting in his fat, useless Marxist face.
Incidentally, why was his weapon not ready to go? Because he’s a liar. I’m sure I could toss this maggot a handgun, and he wouldn’t have a clue which end the bullets come from.
Eat dirt, New York City wimpy maggot. You’re a lying commie piece of scum. I’d bet my paycheck that he couldn’t hit a plate at five-feet swinging a sledgehammer.
Didn’t we disarm Japan in 1945 and wrote into their constitution that they could not own weapons? So this was not their idea and the Japanese did not implement this decision, we did it for them.
Idiot conveniently leaves out black and hispanic issues
Or Imperial Japan too
What a fool
Was his girlfriend male or female?
Did he have a life jacket on before vomiting in the toilet?
All that money spent on an education and you're still a dumbass, Patrick.
What a wuss
LOL, what a pile of steaming baloney.
“Blanchfield is a Ph.D. candidate and Woodruff Scholar in comparative literature at Emory University in Atlanta.”
For those in the know, this is a red flag that alerts us that we are dealing with a total and complete idiot.... and probably a liar.
I don’t believe his story about range time until I hear it confirmed from a second source. I’m not kidding. This is exactly the kind of fiction that is written by our Leftist friends from Emory.
Emory is a joke. Didn’t used to be. Is now.
To our everlasting shame, we also can claim membership in the club of mass murders. The magnitude of the numbers paints us as petty criminals compared to the real monsters, however it matters not to those who were slaughtered at Wounded Knee 122 years ago, under "Old Glory".
The Wounded Knee Massacre occurred on December 29, 1890, near Wounded Knee Creek on the Lakota Pine Ridge Indian Reservation in South Dakota, USA. It was the last battle of the American Indian Wars. On the day before, a detachment of the U.S. 7th Cavalry Regiment commanded by Major Samuel M. Whitside intercepted Spotted Elk's band of Miniconjou Lakota and 38 Hunkpapa Lakota near Porcupine Butte and escorted them five miles westward to Wounded Knee Creek where they made camp.
The remainder of the 7th Cavalry Regiment arrived led by Colonel James Forsyth and surrounded the encampment supported by four Hotchkiss guns.
On the morning of December 29, the troops went into the camp to disarm the Lakota. One version of events claims that during the process of disarming the Lakota, a deaf tribesman named Black Coyote was reluctant to give up his rifle, claiming he had paid a lot for it. A scuffle over Black Coyote's rifle escalated and a shot was fired which resulted in the 7th Cavalry's opening fire indiscriminately from all sides, killing men, women, and children, as well as some of their own fellow troopers. Those few Lakota warriors who still had weapons began shooting back at the attacking troopers, who quickly suppressed the Lakota fire. The surviving Lakota fled, but U.S. cavalrymen pursued and killed many who were unarmed.
By the time it was over, at least 150 men, women, and children of the Lakota Sioux had been killed and 4 men, 47 women and children wounded, some of whom died later. Some estimates placed the number of dead at 300. Twenty-five troopers also died, and 39 were wounded. It is believed that many were the victims of friendly fire, as the shooting took place at close range in chaotic conditions. At least twenty troopers were awarded the coveted Medal of Honor.
Regards,
GtG
To our everlasting shame, we also can claim membership in the club of mass murders. The magnitude of the numbers paints us as petty criminals compared to the real monsters, however it matters not to those who were slaughtered at Wounded Knee 122 years ago, under "Old Glory".
The Wounded Knee Massacre occurred on December 29, 1890, near Wounded Knee Creek on the Lakota Pine Ridge Indian Reservation in South Dakota, USA. It was the last battle of the American Indian Wars. On the day before, a detachment of the U.S. 7th Cavalry Regiment commanded by Major Samuel M. Whitside intercepted Spotted Elk's band of Miniconjou Lakota and 38 Hunkpapa Lakota near Porcupine Butte and escorted them five miles westward to Wounded Knee Creek where they made camp.
The remainder of the 7th Cavalry Regiment arrived led by Colonel James Forsyth and surrounded the encampment supported by four Hotchkiss guns.
On the morning of December 29, the troops went into the camp to disarm the Lakota. One version of events claims that during the process of disarming the Lakota, a deaf tribesman named Black Coyote was reluctant to give up his rifle, claiming he had paid a lot for it. A scuffle over Black Coyote's rifle escalated and a shot was fired which resulted in the 7th Cavalry's opening fire indiscriminately from all sides, killing men, women, and children, as well as some of their own fellow troopers. Those few Lakota warriors who still had weapons began shooting back at the attacking troopers, who quickly suppressed the Lakota fire. The surviving Lakota fled, but U.S. cavalrymen pursued and killed many who were unarmed.
By the time it was over, at least 150 men, women, and children of the Lakota Sioux had been killed and 4 men, 47 women and children wounded, some of whom died later. Some estimates placed the number of dead at 300. Twenty-five troopers also died, and 39 were wounded. It is believed that many were the victims of friendly fire, as the shooting took place at close range in chaotic conditions. At least twenty troopers were awarded the coveted Medal of Honor.
Regards,
GtG
