The script for my thesis film
Remember before I became all emo and shit, I used to have crazy and whimsical updates like the Suze Orman's Haunted Vagina or whatever crap I last posted all the time?! Well, hypothetical groupies, you're in luck. I just finished the shooting script for my thesis film. So to answer your first question: Yes, I am shooting this fucker. I highly,
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This is not a joke picture. This is honestly an image of the man telling me about failure.
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I own 15 acres outright, that I paid with CASH, mother fucker. That's right, I EARNED the money to pay for it. I didn't wait for my queer ass daddy to will it to me. A daddy so immensely disappointed in you and your FAT .. yes FAT ass (pot calling the kettle black because I'm fattER than you .. stupid fuck), that he couldn't bare speak your name for years. A daddy who spent his last few years thinking he should have just shot that load into the sink instead into your mom's crack and letting it slide into her rank assed cooch.
All the loser qualities you possess are a direct result of fucking karma. You get what you put out you whiny little fucking bitch! Take some of the daddy died of aids from smoking too much pole money, and buy a whore. That's the only way you'll ever fucking feel ANY love from a woman. When you're older, and start reflecting on life, cunt stain ... when you're sitting down to a lonely man's TV dinner, probably while your ex wife whom you're still paying alimony to is partying in Vegas while your kids are with their "new daddy", think back to the arrogant shit you pulled when you were a moronic "I know so much" barely pubescent teen. Think of all this shit, and when you're crying thinking "Why?!? Why!??!" you'll find your answer.
I repeat my challenge, bitch.
ANY
FUCKING
TIME
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Hi, my name's Aaron. You may remember me as a 19-year-old stranger that called you fat on the Internet one time. I don't know you very well, but apparently we have some sort of "challenge" between us because it seems you were so devastated by a teenager's cruel yet tragicomically accurate depiction of your home life that you decided to follow him to his Livejournal to continue some sort of spooky online feud we must have.
Your kids must be proud. And obese.
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Firstly, you called me fat because you disagreed with my political beliefs, and either didn't have the sense to debate nicely about it with factual info, or are just a dumbass, so you had to jump in on the fat thing, which you brought to every post I made thereafter. Someone could say "hi, I'm bob. I'm new here. I'd reply with "welcome to the board" and you'd reply with "Hi, CaptShady's fat". You somehow found that to be funny, but as I've said, karma will catch up to you butty-boy (intentional misspelling) and it looks like it's already begun. I'm sure ya sit with your head in your hands crying while listening to "Father Of Mine" on a regular basis. You're a pathetic excuse for a human being, a waste of skin, and will NEVER achieve the goals you've set for yourself in Hollywood. I'm sure you'll wind up fetching coffee for a film maker some day. Enjoy.
Secondly, I didn't follow you here. I got an email after you posted my picture. You brought it here, not me you little bitch. I left well enough alone, YOU didn't. Because that's the kind of person you are. A mean spirited fucktard that's brave behind a keyboard. You live in a world where you think it's okay/clever to attack a man's children. I think that stems from jealousy in your knowing that you'll never know unconditional love, no matter how many offspring you sire.
Your depiction of my home life is far from the truth. You were told that by people who were there, but something in your inner core couldn't let up. I blame your parents, or lack thereof. If you ever grow up and become worthy of being called a man, you'll see the error of your ways. I wouldn't sit there waiting though.
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I don't understand where YOUR negativity comes from here. I've invited you to my home a couple times, and never had it out with you. But if you WANT to start something, there's really no need to beat around the bush, just say so. I THINK you want to boast about your "win" with me, maybe? Go ahead, no skin off my nose. I know you don't want a rematch, Chris told me you're not allowed to. If you just want a good old flame war, I can do that too. So just say what it is you want from me, and I'll see if I can accommodate you. Right now I have no beef with you, and don't know why you feel you need to run to the rescue. Is he not capable of handling himself?
Lastly, I never once posted that I'm not fat.
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