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Old 02-02-2007, 10:05 AM   #9
12clicks
12clicks should edit this
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Evil Chris
Admit it, you were being a shit disturber.
you be the judge.
I called some of the womanly, flowerly, un-masculine ideas about what Cyn should do for her man's birthday "gay"

Some cock smoker then came out of the woodwork and explained why I was offenisve using "gay" to describe the ideas.

Shortly afterwards, both members of the board along with a moderator started calling me names. (now who do you think is going to win a name calling battle)
Not liking being slapped down, the thread was deleted.
later a new fun thread was started by someone else where I promised to be a good boy. I was called a "retard" by one of the 2 board members so I asked for his banning, explaining how much more offensive it is to our handicapped friends in this biz than the word "gay"
at this point, "tigger" with his love of cock, was painted into a corner and banned me.
(oh, and I got a PM from another moderator explaining how I had to respect the delicate feelings of others and not call people names and how she was completely nuetral and understood my side)
I asked her if her neutrality meant that she sent a PM explaining this to all of the people who called me names and went on to explain to her how I only ever REPLIED to derogatory statements but had instigated none of it.


I'm such a dick.
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The details of my life are quite inconsequential.... very well, where do i
begin? My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from
Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen
year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize, he would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark.Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy. The sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical. Summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds- pretty standard really. At the age of twelve I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteena Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is
nothing like a shorn scrotum... it's breathtaking- I highly suggest you try it.
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