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And you call yourself a Blogger. Hah!
You sit there with your smug protestations and your sweet lollipop view of the world, and you whine and cry, and you weep and snivel at the slightest ripple of controversy, as if anyone cares what you think. You barely get fifty people a day who read your blithering crap, and why? Because you suck! You probably even pay off those fifty as it is, because you SUCK! William S. James, oh my! Even your name is pretentious. It’s as if your mother and father expected you to be a pompous ass. If only they had bet the farm on that one, maybe you’d have been so rich you wouldn’t have time to write, because you’d be too busy whoring around, trying to father a child at your advanced age with the likes of Paris or Britney, and getting nowhere. At least then, maybe then, the world might have been spared your holier than thou crap, and condescending attitude towards everyone who’s ever farted in the public spotlight. But for them, at least the light was on when they farted. You, you pass your noxious poison in the dark of a damp cave-like hovel, tapping away on your keyboard, like some kind of sloppy, slimy, secretary from hell. Wholesale errors, typographic tragedy, and grammatical genocide all add up to a sickening stench and dank exposure of what you present as you. You claim to write about freedom, personal liberty, compassion, personal triumph, and peace, when all you do is advertise the grotesque underbelly of society at its worst. Of course that’s only natural for someone as low and pitiful as you. Someone ought to take your liberal ass, throw some chains around your ankles, shackle your wrists, hood your eyes, and throw you in solitary with no food for a few months, then we’d see how much you'd whine about how oppressed you are in your air conditioned, elevatored, security-phoned, eighteen hundred square footed palace you present as suffering. You get all bent out of shape when you can’t find the remote, or your laptop battery needs recharging, ooooh. Man, life is really a bitch. But you know, when you stop and think about it, that’s it in a nutshell, that’s all you really do, is bitch, and why? Because you really SUCK! William S. James, Finally in a good mood |
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PLEASE VISIT THE CONTRIBUTOR'S WEBSITE
Author
Site to promote Freedom Zone fz2878
www.fz2878.com
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