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Messages - Eater of Clowns

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2836
Techmology and Scientism / Re: New Ford cop cars
« on: December 14, 2010, 09:08:54 pm »
ITT Coyote takes umbrage with people's umbrage about other umbraging roaderists.  He ITT USES CAPS AND TLDRS because it's such an edgy troll that causes umbrage in douchebags.  Of course, why interact with the forum when you can just ITT TLDR at umbraging douchebags.

ITT UMAD TLDR UMBRAGE DOUCHEBAGS INTERNETS


Charley, this guy's just acting like the nasty prick he always has.  I don't think you should try to be nice, but I definitely don't want to see you losing your enjoyment on the forum like last time.  It's good having you around, man.

:facepalm:

ITT DON'T UMBRAGE ME BRO

2837
Techmology and Scientism / Re: New Ford cop cars
« on: December 14, 2010, 08:35:45 pm »
Does this really need to be egged on?
Not really, but people doing stupid shit on the road piss me off. People justifying their stupid shit because someone else did something stupid on the road pisses me off more. Ergo EOC is a douchebag. A double douchebag infact.

Eat a dick, Coyote, and if you're going to practice your "UMAD" bullshit trolling go do it on the World of Warcraft forums or whatever for-lack-of-comprehension fuckwattles find your oh so piercing commentary amusing.  I haven't shirked off unnecessary sniping from people I actually like; I'm not about to let it slide when you do it.

Don't even think about trying that "Pass on the left" nonsense over here Sunshine, or you'll end up getting flattened by an Articulated Lorry.  :lulz:

One day a piercing scream will come from the sky and shatter the mirrors you miserable Brits are born with inside your skulls.  You'll come to realize you've been driving on the right the whole damn time and you're going to shit yourselves so gloriously hard.

2838
Techmology and Scientism / Re: New Ford cop cars
« on: December 14, 2010, 04:50:56 pm »
I am the righteous arbiter of justice on the road.  Tailgating me on the highway because you're trying to pass me and I'm in the high speed lane, that's fine.  Passing me on the right?  You. are. fucked.  I will go so grossly out of my own convenience to fuck you over as badly as I possibly can.  I will make you miss your exit, I will trap you behind the minivan on the far right moving at a crawl and braking inexplicably.  You have never seen pure evil so singularly personified as in that surprisingly agile beat up little Civic as it cuts your only path in the traffic you've been weaving around in like a dickbag.  Do not pass me on the right.

You. Masshole.

Lol.

I just want to say thanks to Suu for apparently being the only one that actually got the point of this post.  I would say I'm disappointed by a few of you, but this is actually completely in line with the shitheadedness I'd expect from those who delivered on it.

I'd also like to thank PMZ for at least trying to make a conversation out of it instead of turning on some bland insults and little "morally correct" insinuations.

Phox and Coyote.  Just get fucked.  It was a poor decision of me to attempt to explain my reasoning when all you're looking for is to casually toss out some insults.

I'll apologize for my part in the derail.

2839
Techmology and Scientism / Re: New Ford cop cars
« on: December 14, 2010, 04:21:45 pm »
ITT: A douchbag justifies driving in a reckless manner because someone else doing something that pisses him off might endanger other people.

Driving in a reckless manner?  Who said anything about cutting off and whatnot?  You're assigning that one yourself, Coyote.  I said I'll get them back and, yeah, I will, but that's not by cutting people off or even tailgating them.  It's a very simple matter of positioning.  If I'm where they want to be, they can't be there, and when it looks like just another car doing its part on the road.

You see, the freeway is much like the internet, Coyote.  There are people who are pretty level headed until some cockbag comes along and makes a bunch of snide fucking remarks in direct refusal to acknowledge the meaning of the words actually being said.  Maybe you're alright with that happening in response to a bit of hyperbole (really, you can't tell from "righteous arbiter of justice"?) but I'm not.  Much like I'm not okay with someone pulling some dangerous shit on the highway.

You forgot that being an asshole to them will make them repent their evil ways, and they won't do it to someone else.

Gosh, Phox, you've unlocked the secret.  So keep being an asshole to me, so that I'll repent my evil ways and won't do it to someone else.   :roll:

2840
Techmology and Scientism / Re: New Ford cop cars
« on: December 14, 2010, 03:27:43 pm »
I am the righteous arbiter of justice on the road.  Tailgating me on the highway because you're trying to pass me and I'm in the high speed lane, that's fine.  Passing me on the right?  You. are. fucked.  I will go so grossly out of my own convenience to fuck you over as badly as I possibly can.  I will make you miss your exit, I will trap you behind the minivan on the far right moving at a crawl and braking inexplicably.  You have never seen pure evil so singularly personified as in that surprisingly agile beat up little Civic as it cuts your only path in the traffic you've been weaving around in like a dickbag.  Do not pass me on the right.
If you know they want to pass you, then why don't you get over into the slower lane so they don't have to pass you on the right?

But how will he win at driving?

Brilliant suggestions, I wish I'd thought of them.  Guess I'm just too focused on trying to "win" driving or some stupid bullshit.

Next time I'm in the middle lane, you know, the traveling lane, and a car comes up behind me with a wide open path on either side and inexplicably chooses the right, I won't be such a douchebag about it.  They're welcome to act however they like until the day they do the same thing to somebody who's trying to change lanes right in a hurry and, just this once, didn't check their blind spot for the asshole who took the wrong path around them.

Passing is not just passing.  The right is a car's means of escape in order to access the break down lane in a hurry, try to get to an exit, or avoid danger.  So long as you are passing people on their left, that means you have constant control and awareness of what's going on on your right, meaning you can be ready for unlikely shit.  If you've got a prick passing you on your right, now you have an unnecessary danger.

Pass on the fucking left.  And in the same vein, once you've passed on the left get the fuck out of the passing lane to let others behind you do the same thing.  It'll clear up the road a bit and you won't have to worry about massholes like myself getting agitated enough to start correcting your poor decisions using a bit of maneuvering.

2841
Techmology and Scientism / Re: New Ford cop cars
« on: December 14, 2010, 02:28:11 am »
I am the righteous arbiter of justice on the road.  Tailgating me on the highway because you're trying to pass me and I'm in the high speed lane, that's fine.  Passing me on the right?  You. are. fucked.  I will go so grossly out of my own convenience to fuck you over as badly as I possibly can.  I will make you miss your exit, I will trap you behind the minivan on the far right moving at a crawl and braking inexplicably.  You have never seen pure evil so singularly personified as in that surprisingly agile beat up little Civic as it cuts your only path in the traffic you've been weaving around in like a dickbag.  Do not pass me on the right.

2842
The Richard Nixon school of ballet and the arts / Re: Hey, LMNO...
« on: December 14, 2010, 01:53:00 am »
I can't laugh from the nestled little spots in the web, can't mock and scream at their failure.  I loved that chittering rage they'd have when they saw they'd captured my body but hadn't broken my resistance, that time wears even their diamond strong strands.  Unthinking animals, being of malice but beings of instinct and no plans.  Instinct can be tricked.

That was until the day at the bar.  The table was littered with empty cups and the music played and the crowd roared in challenge and appreciation of it and this was my world.  Everyone always huddles at one end of the bar it seems, packing in shoulder to shoulder for their own medicines, their precious golden liquid pills.  I go to the far end, the one in the corner where there's that bartender who doesn't look at me funny when I order a bourbon neat and she's real damn sorry they're all out of glasses because she knows plastic is for the scum drinks.  Well, the other scum drinks.

It's darker there and somehow quieter, the far end.  I'm half way there and I see a fuzzy shape with its arms on the bar top and its other arms on the bar top and its eyes looking every direction of the compass and then two more.  Or I think I see it, knock back the bourbon, order another.  Then it's not staring everywhere it's looking over at me, casually leaning as though to engage me but waiting for my move.  Instinct, again, let the fly struggle its way deeper in as it fearfully throws about vainly stupidly desperately panicking.  I stare to its eyes to laugh, then, like I've been laughing since I knew it had me but it still wouldn't ever have me have me.

There's this pretty nurse I see walking into work a few days a week.  She's tall and she's blonde and, well, I don't know anything else about her.  Place like this beauty stands out though, goes a long way when all the walls are drab and all the people are prison people.  Prison people on both sides in different uniforms and me in my uniform just outside its walls and her in her scrub uniform.  A fresh face stands out and yeah, I'd notice her walking by as we both rushed in on our daily late schedules.  That's what I see in the Spider's eyes at the bar, at first, I see that nurse.  I'm still laughing and I'm still drinking to prove to the big bastard that I'm in control, not the booze and not the crowd that's stopped and keeps glancing at our little stare down.

Then another eye has me.  Me in one eye and that nurse in the other.  I'm sitting in our nice executive office chairs with the horrible lumbar support they provide and I'm me.  I'm me, there with two eyes on the screen and a two hands on the keyboard and always moving about to the other screen or the mouse or the pen.  And I'm moving faster and faster I must be busy, hustling around it must be a Monday when we get all the weekend paperwork because I'm a blur.  My eyes are on paperwork screen then they're on the radio screen and my hands are on the keyboard then they're on the mouse and the nurse is still walking in the other eye but she's walking in shorter strides now even though she's going faster, faster and gracefully and confidently.  My eyes are on the screen and they're on the other screen and they're on the keyboard and there's one on each mouse and there's another two working on papers all at once and does my skin look grey?  I know I'm hairy but not that hairy, and my eyes aren't that dark they aren't black and reflective.  Then there's that nurse in the Spider's other eye but she's straight skittering as she hits the doors, as she gets ready to hand out cups and cups and doses and doses of medications to the inmates, the stuff they crave and sometimes can't live without and sometimes can barely even live with and it's a con because a lot of them have the very same effects as the other stuff, that they're in for, in the syringes or the bottles or the pipes.

It's got four more eyes, the beast at the bar.  I'm not laughing anymore.  I've got this grin, this good trick you bastard but I've got some fight left kind of grin.  It's got four more eyes and I look at one.  There's my executive management track friend and he's putting down a sandwich at his desk to get more done and he's pushing it past big fucking dripping fangs.  I don't stay there long enough to see what's in the sandwich.  There's another eye and it's my claims adjuster friend, one hand on the phone and up by her face and the other five just dead bored by her side.  Two more eyes but it's enough because those images keep switching.  Friends parents strangers the bartendes the dj the guy in the bathroom the group of girls celebrating a friend's 21st and every driver passing by all at once.  Six eyes I can see all at once in my own six eyes.  Some of the images have fucking spider limbs like I saw on myself and on that nurse, but some don't.  I like the ones that don't, not because they're resisting and not because they're innocent and winning but because they look tempting.  They look like meat waiting for my attack, but better than the attack the trap I lay, the game I play in wait.  The feast will come later, and it won't ever end and it'll be just one of a thousand others by the time I die in body even if I can't in truth.  The feast will come later but now it's the chase, the game that I love to play because it's my own damn game and I can't lose it.  And I laughed.

That's when I heard the chittering.

The same chittering I used to hear as I laughed at them in my sticky little corner of the big web; the one that kept me from falling off the world again.

I stopped my chittering.  The Spider at the bar started its.  Turns out it isn't quite rage.

2843
Okay, there's 9 minutes left in the fourth quarter.  Pats are up 36-7 in windy, snowy conditions.  CAN WE PULL OUR STARTERS PLEASE?  Can we try to prevent an injury that could ruin this season?

2844
NE is kicking ass.

This team was born again hard after the Browns embarassment.  Thoroughly enjoying it on this end.   :D

2845
Pats and Bears playing in a fucking snowstorm.  This is great fucking football right now.

2846
Bring and Brag / Re: More Spider Music from the Spider Project
« on: December 11, 2010, 12:25:04 am »
That sounded great!

2847
The Richard Nixon school of ballet and the arts / Re: Origins of poptart
« on: December 10, 2010, 11:34:31 pm »
His last image on this page is ridiculously NSFW.  If this wasn't my day off, it might've been a bad situation.

Edit:  Thanks, Faust.  That was quick.

Edit2:  Hah, okay first it said Faust, then it said Roger.  Thanks both.

2848
Think for Yourself, Schmuck! / Re: Just call me hipster to my face
« on: December 10, 2010, 09:22:28 pm »
Rick Rubin, superproducer and complete musical badass, founded Def Jam Records in 1988.

Five years later, he held a funeral for the word Def.  A funeral.  With a casket, and a gravestone, and fucking everything, for the word.

We need to do that with "hipster."  If you want to fill the casket with some douchey college kid in a bad outfit, that's cool too, so long as the word goes with it.

Fixed that for you.

I thought Russell Simmons founded Def Jam and Rick Rubin founded the more rock-oriented imprint, Def American?

Rubin created Def Jam way back, then Simmons got it off the ground.  Rubin then left Def Jam and created Def American, which became American Recordings after the funeral.

2849
I saw this trailer a few days ago.  It's.  So.  Fucking.  Awesome.

Can anyone else picture the beaver saying some shit about Jews and women and then Mel Gibson looking aghast as he points to the beaver to try and shirk blame?

2850
Think for Yourself, Schmuck! / Re: Just call me hipster to my face
« on: December 10, 2010, 06:54:40 pm »
Rick Rubin, superproducer and complete musical badass, founded Def American Records in 1988.

Five years later, he held a funeral for the word Def.  A funeral.  With a casket, and a gravestone, and fucking everything, for the word.

We need to do that with "hipster."  If you want to fill the casket with some douchey college kid in a bad outfit, that's cool too, so long as the word goes with it.

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