Archive for November, 2013

Thrill of the Cunt

Posted: November 20, 2013 in MiB Hates Us All

First of all, I would like to make it clear that I am a “hip” guy. I like to keep up to date with all the trends these young whippersnappers come up with in these troubling times, which is why I listened to M&Ms when that was in and did the Gangbang Style last year and now wear sweatpants on Thursdays.

Ever the listless yet desperate-for-social-acceptance typical teenager, I have as such picked up on the most recent trend of Bachman bashing. And so, I would like to extend a hearty fuck you to Melissa Bachman. My heart says fuck you, Melissa Bachman. And if it had a dick, my heart would whip it out, place it on your forehead and sing the Circle of Life as slow as humanly possible.

Am I doing it right, guys?

I mean, this cougar-killer deserves all the vitriol and bile and hate-semen that’s gushing forth from the dark corners of the Internet. It’s not like there are other people that kill majestic lions with scoped rifles – which is the massively pussy way to kill a massive pussy, if we’re being honest. Nah, it’s all Melissa Bachman’s fault. In fact, we should just start blaming her for all of the shit that plagues and plights our world. Tsunamis? Fuck you Melissa Bachman. AIDS? Y U DO THIS MELISSA BACHMAN? That tremor that I slept through earlier this week that apparently rocked the entirety of Johannesburg? It’s all on you, bitch.

Fuck you for coming into my sunny South Africa, disturbing me from my daily complaining about how Indian girls make their avatar’s skin colour lighter on Bitstrips, hunting down a magnificent creature and on top of all that having the audacity to do it legally. Like, what’s up with that? Now I’ve got to add you to my list of things to protest against despite not having shown the slightest inkling of interest in wildlife conservation and preservation in the past. So what if I’ve never donated a cent to the WWF or if the closest I’ve come to a wild animal is the weird duck creature staring back at me in the mirror? Now I’ve got to take time out of my routine to call you a poes and make death threats against you on Facebook. You really don’t have any consideration for others, do you?

It doesn’t matter that, once again, you performed these dastardly, despicable and dickish acts “legally” which really speaks fucking volumes about the morality of the system that allows this to happen. I’m gonna do my part and sign an online petition to try to ban you from my country instead of constructively protesting the legislation around canned hunting. Momma always said to treat the symptoms and not the cause. Then again, Momma was the type of person that would get stabbed in a shootout.

This reminds me of that situation last year where another despicable sack-of-shit did despicable sack-of-shit-like deeds – I’m sure you’re familiar with Joseph Kony? Yeah, that’s what I thought. Well, I’ll have you know that I typed out my name in FULL CAPITAL LETTERS on that petition to stop Kony and I even liked the KONY 2012 Facebook page twice – once with my normal profile and once with my profile I usually reserve to catfish. That’s fucking dedication. And boy was I proud when we stopped Kony. We did stop him, right? I kinda stopped paying attention after hitting the like button… but anyway, just know that there’s a special place in hell for you along with that motherfucker that shot Bambi’s mother.

I only wish I could deliver more bite-sized death threats to you via Twitter, but I see you’ve hastily deleted that, you sneaky cunt, you. And I would post this on your website but you seem to have taken that down too for fear of your life. Ha! How the hunter has become the hunted. Richard Connell would be proud.

Here’s to wishing Mufasa’s ghost teabags you in your sleep, bitch.


[DISCLAIMER: Before I start getting death threats via Twitter, I would just like to clarify something to all the Sheldon Coopers reading this: I do NOT in any way condone the actions carried out by Melissa Bachman. Hunting wild animals for the sake of “sport” and pleasure is pretty fucking sickening and I’m sure one could spend that time more productively and joyfully in choking one’s chicken or tossing one’s turkey – metaphorically speaking of course. If you don’t wanna be like my Momma yet still want to feel important and sign something, feel free to plaster your John Hancock on the Petition against Canned Hunting in South Africa over here]