is this just your brand?
The photo of Ⓜ️μ
∆ⁿ⁰ⁿÅ⟩K<№^w^^VVⁿ⁰–>no-no, №N0!–NO!>Fren* that was posted on Bellgab.com many, many years ago was a sight that deeply shocked me — shocked, I tell you I was, quite literally shocked — and it was not until about, oh, about five minutes ago, that I told the story and its surrounding details, at all, ever, to anyone. My brand is Source >Hê¡r Trap Door Spider, I guess? That will do for now, especially as it touches upon the odd circumstance in which I post all day, every day, every where I can, that I was “ambushed and left for dead.” As I in fact was.
What odd concatenation of circumstances could lead to someone running their yip-yap, all the live-long day, in a semi-public space, when an unspoken but logically existing Alternative, Bruhh — Completely Discordant Encyclopediæic Formerly “Good” Historically Inaccurate Junk Kase Listed Moron’s Narrative... must imply that I am The_One that ambushed... Her?
Speaking of THE_ONE... who here amongst us, in this Web🕸️Community🕷️ of careful,
astute observers, could forget the eight (
or nine (9) day span of time when I inexplicably spent much of my apparently worthless (yet otherwise unoccupied) free fuckin' time... posting memes of Theon Greyjoy, a minor, yet plot-crucial character in George R.R. Martin’s series of epic fantasy novels, ummmm, is it called “
A Song Of Fire And Ice”? I am embarrassed to admit, I don't recall if that's what the name of the series is called, or if that is the name of one of the later books released.
I haven't even finished reading the first one. I know that is titled
Game Of Thrones. I know it is terrific, and that I'm a boorish, foul-mouthed nincompoop for not having continued to read it. In my defense, I figured out how he was writing it pretty quickly, and not wanting to ruin things, I set the book aside and let myself watch the HBO adaptation, which ended up exactly how I knew it would: shockingly disappointing.
Shock, I tell you. Shock. Now, I
know Mr. Martin is a very kind man, with a pair of the two bluest eyes I've ever seen, because I
think I met him once, under circumstances that were immensely peculiar; and while I found it exceptionally bizarre in general, on that particular day, meeting the kind man with the ultra-blue eyes was one of the most natural things about that day.
I... can... say no more, without either appearing to be an actual loon, or committing that most unforgivable of diplomatic
faux pas: letting asshole attempted murderers get away with that crime and then actually giving them extra boost to run right out and go for a second attempt. Whether successful or not, that would be a hard accident to back myself away from. So, I won't elaborate other than to say, he isn't going to have to call in sick to work for the next few months, and I'm not going to be skipping down to the country club to ask him if I can crash on his couch. (A kind man. He'd likely want to agree. Can you imagine? I'm sure I'd be breaking into the liquor cabinet within five minutes of being left alone. Pfft.) None of this is happening. Did I even ever actually meet him? Did we shake hands? Did an unspoken understanding pass between us, as if everyone literally literate possesses some higher level of cortical functioning that allows some sort of smart-guy telepathy–·¡s‽h to take place?
I can neither confirm nor deny that either of us winked at the other. Again, I don't even know if it was he. Perhaps a vividly realistic hologram. Similarly, I can't recall which thread on Bellgab.com I chanced upon a scan of a picture I recognized instantly, as it was one of only two photos Ⓜ️μ A.N.N.K.≥№ⁿ·n.-n!-n.-N.!N!N Fren had ever sent me. I know this, because, I'm not a big believer in photography, and, I didn't give the photos away.
Did the person who posted it, have the other? Did they have permission? Was the person posting, My rap-battle-name-challenged Fren? Was I ever going to be actually under suspicion of having been the poster, or having intentionally supplied the photo myself?
The answer to the last query is one of the most exhilarating to me, because I've been accused of all manner of disgusting behavior and revolting crimes, for basically my entire life. Not in any way am I given any reason to believe that any nadir of depravity is not inevitably suspected to be something that I, Kuczi, etc., either does to cheat society in some way in order to get my grubby hands on more filthy lucre, or is something that I spend my free time on plotting and scheming endless attempts to take revenge on a world I despise, mostly because I'm worse than Dracula Junior and better then Girl Hitler — both of those qualities being utterly inexcusable amongst polite,
civilized beings.
And, since I hadn't
come forward at all, about the photo, and other inconsistencies of my life, in ways that,
obviously I should have, right? It's obviously self-evident that I should have done this thing, or that thing, or some other things... and because of all that, just throw me to the wolves out the back of the sleigh. That's what is etched onto the stele with the Code of Hammurabi, yeah?
Azzgab, Bellgab, & Country Company >K©0®E`Gab... you are all One Crude Beast. My “brand”? Azzerae, go fuck yourself.
While that's still legal, I guess. Holy Jesus shitballs. You have zero awareness of what my life is like and your kindergarten-level cognitive capacity to suggest what I should be doing about it, i.e. “STFU”, yeah thanks. Great advice.
I tried that. Results obtained were unsatisfactory. Hey, here's an idea: mow my Trustee’s lawn, you loathsome reprobate elitist piggy-uncle knuckled-under rapefaglord. I've had it with the likes of you — you, and your
ilky team.
That being said, I guess you don't really get much of a choice about the matter these days — because reasons — and considering how less and less important saving you all from a fate worse than death, that is, fucking paying me, Titsen Moneybags... well, whatever. Fuck it all and fucking no regrets.
You wouldn't understand. You couldn't understand. My explanation wouldn't be
for you.
But my friend’s picture was. Weird. Yeah, just pretend that never happened. Until now. Stop now.
I'm done with that trash on the bed. Peace.
*: Imagine the rap battle name.
