It never fails. I see Quartermain schlepping through the slush and slop, he slips - and goes face first into the schmaggg! HAR HAR HAR! HAR HAR HAR! What a tard!!! HAR HAR HAR! And ten seconds later, as that smoking hot pretty girl walks past... I will slip, do a triple-lindy flip, and do a belly flop/face plant even worse than he did! The tards’ll all start laughing at me and then I’ll get pished at the world because of it!!
Last week I had an unpleasant discussion with one of the bloggertards about the face diaper/chinkypox nonsense. I broke out the Crayolas, the finger puppets and other tard learning aids to explain to him why the masks don’t work. “Nuh-uh!!!” He said, “If they don’t work, then why do surgeons wear them? If you come down with the chinkydink, Filthie - and ya don’t wear ya mask - don’t expect me to have any sympathy for you!” I did the face/palm thing and gave up. Life is too short.
So I’m out surfing and another bloggertard somberly announces one of his pals has chinkydink. I click on the link to see who it is... and guess whose blog comes up? He’s on bottled O2 because reasons, and could die any moment. I wanted to HAR HAR HAR at him, but instead I told the dumbass that he had the flu, take four fingers of scotch, all the Buckley’s he can hold, and 1000 IU of vitamin D a day. And no, he wasn’t gonna die.
So if this runs it’s course the way these things usually do... I will come down with Ebola any minute now. Or VD. Or both! Maybe I should wear a mask now? And social distance? I think I can already feel my skeletal bones beginning to petrify!!! And my genitals!!! They are beginning to rot!!! Oh no!!!
Bah! If anyone needs me, I will be over having a play date with Aesop. 😊👍