A Werewolf Emerges from a Full Moon


Fuuuuuuuck you!

When I am minding my own business out on Twitter, and you and you alone take offense at something I said, such that you feel entitled to spend your entire night doing nothing else but attacking me, and I take the time to explain to you where you misunderstood, but you still refuse to admit you were wrong or apologize, you are an asshole and you can go fuck yourself.


I appreciate that you used your blinker to try to change lanes in front of me, but if you hit your brakes while merging so that I really can't help but hit you or lock up my own brakes, don't act all shocked and surprised when I sit on my horn and cuss you up and down, you fuckwad idiot shithead. Learn how to merge or up your life insurance because someone is going to get money out of your future demise in a firey crash.


The whole world despises you and it's not hard to see why. You treat everyone around you, especially those stupid enough to care about you, like total shit. You are the most spoiled, self-centered, superficial, egotistical, abusive, immoral, idiotic, narcissistic fuck to ever walk this earth. But you don't care just as long as you look good doing it.


So you weren't wearing a badge, weren't wearing a uniform, sexually assaulted a boy who was just standing there minding his own business, sending him to the hospital, and yet you don't feel you should be charged and thrown into prison? Fuck you, asshole Seattle cop. Fuck you and every asshole like you. That guy is a human being, which is apparently news to you and your entire department, while you are just a pile of shit. Even if you had the right kid, which you didn't, there would still be no excuse for what you did to him. You should be in prison right now instead of sitting at home masturbating while playing Xbox and still drawing a salary.


So you were married to a raging hot Latin actress with a successful TV show, with her loving you enough that when she married you she even took your last name, which is increasingly rare in our fucked up Hollywood country, and yet you went and slept with a woman who looks almost just like her? What for? She's practically your wife's twin! I mean, she looks exactly like her! WTF dude? Are you brain damaged or what?


You know how I used to always put up with all kinds of shit from pretty much everyone who hung out with me? Yeah, well maybe you've noticed, but I'm not doing that anymore. I've got no patience for false friends and fuckheads. And that includes you. If you don't respect me, but you still expect to hang with me and drink my alcohol then I can promise you I'll get right up in your face and give you hell until you fear me, and you can learn to respect that, at least.



Apparently you, your boss, and your boss' boss didn't get the memo. You seem to think that the screaming rage of an entire nation directed straight at you is merely a request for you to consider whether or not you feel like continuing to rape and molest us in our city airports and elsewhere. Let me attempt to clarify for you, you'd better listen up and listen good or your name will become synonymous with a powerful but arrogant man being dragged into the streets, stripped naked and repeatedly kicked in the head by an angry mob. People in future generations will refer to this sort of beat-down as a "Pistole whipping."


Listen, when you first appeared on the scene again, all broken hearted and alone, I was nice to you. When you wanted something to do I helped you out. When you wanted someone close to me to open up to you, I talked to them and convinced them that you were alright. But now that you have developed this habit of texting me to ask where everyone is at, and when I say I'm right here and do you want me to come hang out, but you say "no, where is everyone else" because you know I have this network of friends, and I find out for you and offer again to go hang with you, but you once again say "no, I'm just gonna go over to that other place" then I have to ask, why the fuck are you texting me? If you would apparently rather do almost anything except hang out with me then why don't you just lose my number and fuck off?


Don't ask me to drive 20 fucking miles to deliver some crap for you that you could get off your ass and go get for yourself (it would have fit in your car), and then give me attitude and bullshit when I arrive. "How come it's in 2 pieces? Did you break it?" "No, it comes apart and it's a good thing it does because it wouldn't have fit inside my truck if it didn't." "Well, there's nails here like it was nailed together. I think you broke it." Hey, listen up, Bubba Gump, the words you are looking for are "thank you for wasting half your afternoon and $20 worth of gas to haul my shit around for me and then helping me carry it up the fucking stairs while I bitch like a little girl." I understand that you were mad that it was bought at all. I understand that it sure doesn't appear to be worth the money that your artistic spouse paid for it. I understand that you and she have a difference of opinion to work out there. But that has nothing to do with me so save the attitude and bullshit for after I leave. It isn't funny and it isn't cool, and in case you hadn't noticed already, I'm done putting up with shit like that.


Am I paying you to be a workout partner or a trainer? Cuz I was under the impression that you were supposed to be training me, not slowing me down. And by the way, if you will recall, I came to you for cutting and shredding, not mass and powerlifting. I have plenty of muscle and I know damn good and well how to build more. Guess what you have never helped me do? I'll bet you can't guess 'cause you never listen to what I say to you. Are you high?


I fucking hate you, iTunes! Fuck you and the apple-colored horse you rode in on! My Blackberry is easier to use than your shitty software.


I nearly rammed your cellphone right up your ass there when you swerved into me at 70 mph and I didn't even mean to. That was all you, biatch. But I do want to thank you for reminding me that I had been meaning to purchase and install a genuine air-horn system for my 4x4 for just such an occasion. I had almost forgotten.


Coming soon




and now, are you horny baby ...




And then there's this guy ...

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