I love how he sneeringly says "dey-peshy MODE" as well.
Also classic: "Stuart" for complete rantage.
You know what, Stuart, I LIKE YOU. You're not like the other
people, here, in the trailer park.
Oh, don't go get me wrong. They're fine people, they're
good Americans. But they're content to sit back, maybe
watch a little Mork and Mindy on channel 57, maybe kick
back a cool, Coors 16-ouncer. They're good, fine people,
Stuart. But they don't know ... what the queers are doing
to the soil!
You know that Jonny Wurster kid, the kid that delivers papers
in the neighborhood. He's a foreign kid. Some of the neighbors
say he smokes crack, but I don't believe it.
Anyway, for his tenth birthday, all he wanted was a Burrow Owl.
Kept bugging his old man. "Dad, get me a burrow owl. I'll never
ask for anything else as long as I live." So the guy
breaks down and buys him a burrow owl.
Anyway, 10:30, the other night, I go out in my yard, and there's
the Wurster kid, looking up in the tree. I say, "What are
you looking for?" He says "I'm looking for my burrow owl."
I say, "Jumping Jesus on a Pogo Stick. Everybody knows
the burrow owl lives. In a hole. In the ground. Why the hell do you
think they call it a burrow owl, anyway?" Now Stuart, do you
think a kid like that is going to know what the queers are
doing to the soil?
I first became aware of this about ten years ago, the summer
my oldest boy, Bill Jr. died. You know that carnival comes into
town every year? Well this year they came through with a ride
called The Mixer. The man said, "Keep your head, and arms, inside
the Mixer at all times." But Bill Jr, he was a DAAAREDEVIL, just
like his old man. He was leaning out saying "Hey everybody,
Look at me! Look at me!" Pow! He was decapitated! They found
his head over by the snow cone concession.
A few days after that, I open up the mail. And there's a pamphlet
in there. From Pueblo, Colorado, and it's addressed to Bill, Jr.
And it's entitled, "Do you know what the queers are doing to our
soil?"
Now, Stuart, if you look at the soil around any large US city,
there's a big undeground homosexual population. Des Moines, Iowa,
for an example. Look at the soil around Des Moines, Stuart.
You can't build on it; you can't grow anything in it. The government
says it's due to poor farming. But I know what's really going on,
Stuart. I know it's the queers. They're in it with the aliens.
They're building landing strips for gay Martians, I swear to
God.
You know what, Stuart, I like you. You're not like the other
people, here in this trailer park.
― Trayce, Monday, 30 April 2007 01:33 (sixteen years ago) link
one year passes...
Your father fucked your mother.
At least once, your father and your mother were in bed, and your father got a hard-on, and he stuck it inside your mother and they fucked. Sometimes maybe your father fucked your mother in the ass, and maybe on the night that you were conceived maybe they did that, before or after, or maybe they didn't, maybe your father never fucked your mother's ass, but on the night that you were conceived, one thing is certain: your father fucked your mother in her cunt.
Maybe your mother sucked your father's dick first, and maybe your father ate your mother's pussy. Maybe your father sucked your mother's clit while sticking a finger or two up your mother's slit until she got really wet. Maybe he got his whole hand up there. If you have older brothers or sisters, then your father probably could have gotten his whole hand up there. If not, then maybe not. But at some point, your mother was wet and loose enough to accommodate your father, and they fucked.
Maybe they did it doggy-style. Maybe your mother got on top of your father. Maybe your parents liked to talk dirty to each other when they were fucking.
Maybe your mother screamed, "Oh daddy. Oh daddy. Fuck me, daddy, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me," and then maybe your daddy shouted, "Here it comes! Here it comes! Get ready, bitch, here I come," and then maybe your mother said, "Come in me, come in me, come in me! Oh yeah, baby, fuck your mommy, fuck your momma's sweet pussy, oh yeah, daddy, oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah."
Or maybe they were very quiet.
But at any rate, eventually your father came and his sperm shot out of his dick and it went up your mother's cunt and it fertilized her egg and that was you. That was you in your mother's womb, growing like a virus for nine months, making your mother fatter and fatter, making her sick, making her vomit, making her hate your father for doing this to her, making her hate you, this thing inside of her, like a virus, growing and sucking, like a leech attached to her, sucking her blood, drinking her like a vampire fetus, growing and sucking and growing and sucking until one day you want out, and you burst through the snotty membrane and you pop out of your mother's cunt all covered with blood, and a bloody umbilical cord still attaches you to the inside of your mother somewhere 'til someone snips it off and you are severed. You are a separate being.
This is the miracle of childbirth. To some, it is proof that there is a God.
Now after you were born, maybe you sucked milk out of your mother's tit. Maybe your father wiped the shit off your shitty ass. I don't know. You'll have to ask them. But that is basically the way people are born. In a nutshell, that is it. Unless you were a test tube baby, which you weren't, so just face it: your father fucked your mother, and the next time you're fucking somebody, just try to keep that in mind.
― Mr. Snrub, Tuesday, 27 January 2009 03:13 (fifteen years ago) link
one year passes...
one year passes...
five years pass...