Post by Finn on Mar 24, 2008 0:07:09 GMT -5
It is currently 12:30 AM as I write. On this grave eve, I bring to you the harrowing tale of my life. Read on with an open mind, my purpose in life is simply to live - whatever I must do to continue on living will and MUST be done, despite any moral grievances.
I hate lying, exaggeration to me is just as bad as not telling your partner about the HIV you may have passed onto them through that unprotected anal sex you had that one night (fuck you Daniel R). That said, I have lived a life of sorrow flitted only with the occasional spurt of enjoyment. These brief episodes of happiness were attained through what some would consider rather nefarious and deviant means... I am a horse stomper.
Equine beasts, I hate them all. I hate them almost as much as I hate lying... and I hate lying! Especially when it results in someone contracting AIDS! But lets forget about HIV and think about Horses. Those fucking four legged monstrosities. How slaying a horse can be considered malevolent is simply beyond my ability to comprehend - giant sweating round eyed abominations! I am a manic depressive, my only relief is destroying that which dons a mane, long face and hooves.
I believe my hate for these tainted heck-beasts all stems from my dad's occasional trips to the race track. That, and that one time I saw my naked mother in a video that included a rather hung horse. Though I'm pretty sure it's because my dad went to the tracks so often... Who cares about the psychology though? The point is that horses are scum. Did you know that Daniel Radcliff was in a play where he fucked horses or something? What a homosexual. I hate Harry Potter too... but not as much as horses. I apologize for any future rants I may go on about Harry Potter (or Daniel Radcliff) as he also has embedded himself in the darker side of my heart; the fucking atrioventricular thorn in my side.
My first slaying occurred December 31st, 1999. My family was on vacation on a small prairie house located on some godforsaken western province where wheat was aplenty. We were all scared of the oncoming 2000 apocalypse, and we were running out of food. I wept all day, I knew we were going to starve. I went out for a walk to chew on some wheat, yet on my path I saw something. A magnificent meaty stallion... a glorious beast. Lucky for me, horses are academically challenged as fuck - the doe-eyed retards of the animal kingdom. I approached with caution, then swiftly kicked his front left leg in the shin. I felt my foot shatter bone and destroy the very foundation of the leg. The stallion let out a deafening cry and fell to the ground, I was successful in my initial assault. I was elated, I had never felt so ALIVE in my entire life, adrenaline pumped through my body and I felt a rush of blood enter my loins. In my new vigour I leaned down and forced both of my thumbs into his eyes, another pathetic whimper from the four-legged monster. Another burst of energy erupted within me, I got up and then stomped the head till' I could stomp no more. The mush that covered my foot was the colour of a terrible bloody sludge - I was unimpressed with the beast's contents. That day was the greatest day of my life. I was so happy with my results that I forgot all about feeding my starving family with the remnants of the horse, and simply proceeded back to the farm. Suffice to say, the 2000 apocalypse was complete bullshit, and we returned home.
Ever since that fateful day in Maniterbawan, I have stomped every horse I possibly could. If you have a horse, I will stomp it. No horse can stop me. NO HORSE.
That is my story, my life. I can only hope that you accept my means to happiness. Have a good night.
I hate lying, exaggeration to me is just as bad as not telling your partner about the HIV you may have passed onto them through that unprotected anal sex you had that one night (fuck you Daniel R). That said, I have lived a life of sorrow flitted only with the occasional spurt of enjoyment. These brief episodes of happiness were attained through what some would consider rather nefarious and deviant means... I am a horse stomper.
Equine beasts, I hate them all. I hate them almost as much as I hate lying... and I hate lying! Especially when it results in someone contracting AIDS! But lets forget about HIV and think about Horses. Those fucking four legged monstrosities. How slaying a horse can be considered malevolent is simply beyond my ability to comprehend - giant sweating round eyed abominations! I am a manic depressive, my only relief is destroying that which dons a mane, long face and hooves.
I believe my hate for these tainted heck-beasts all stems from my dad's occasional trips to the race track. That, and that one time I saw my naked mother in a video that included a rather hung horse. Though I'm pretty sure it's because my dad went to the tracks so often... Who cares about the psychology though? The point is that horses are scum. Did you know that Daniel Radcliff was in a play where he fucked horses or something? What a homosexual. I hate Harry Potter too... but not as much as horses. I apologize for any future rants I may go on about Harry Potter (or Daniel Radcliff) as he also has embedded himself in the darker side of my heart; the fucking atrioventricular thorn in my side.
My first slaying occurred December 31st, 1999. My family was on vacation on a small prairie house located on some godforsaken western province where wheat was aplenty. We were all scared of the oncoming 2000 apocalypse, and we were running out of food. I wept all day, I knew we were going to starve. I went out for a walk to chew on some wheat, yet on my path I saw something. A magnificent meaty stallion... a glorious beast. Lucky for me, horses are academically challenged as fuck - the doe-eyed retards of the animal kingdom. I approached with caution, then swiftly kicked his front left leg in the shin. I felt my foot shatter bone and destroy the very foundation of the leg. The stallion let out a deafening cry and fell to the ground, I was successful in my initial assault. I was elated, I had never felt so ALIVE in my entire life, adrenaline pumped through my body and I felt a rush of blood enter my loins. In my new vigour I leaned down and forced both of my thumbs into his eyes, another pathetic whimper from the four-legged monster. Another burst of energy erupted within me, I got up and then stomped the head till' I could stomp no more. The mush that covered my foot was the colour of a terrible bloody sludge - I was unimpressed with the beast's contents. That day was the greatest day of my life. I was so happy with my results that I forgot all about feeding my starving family with the remnants of the horse, and simply proceeded back to the farm. Suffice to say, the 2000 apocalypse was complete bullshit, and we returned home.
Ever since that fateful day in Maniterbawan, I have stomped every horse I possibly could. If you have a horse, I will stomp it. No horse can stop me. NO HORSE.
That is my story, my life. I can only hope that you accept my means to happiness. Have a good night.
