UNLIMITED "Middle age man pretends to be a teenage girl on the internet" thread

[hooplala]

Speaking of which, anyone see the Uncyclopedia entry on Discordianism lately?

Can't see it from here.  Expost?

This is from the section on "Hate Rant Discordians" (aka: us):

"Look around you. Look at these cold, black bars. The colorless ceiling. The hard ground. That's your universe. That's the world you're going to be living in for the rest of your life here in Prison."
~ The Black Iron Prison

"Or kill me."
~ The Black Iron Prison

The next group of Discordians saw me first. I figured they had heard of my mission, and were coming in the shape of a five-sided pentagram to greet me. But when they got closer, I saw they were arranged more like an oblong and were carrying stones and rocks. I knew they were Hate Rant Discordians, and I was quite worried. But they totally ignored me.
I swallowed hard. In my profession I have a lot of practice doing that. I said, "Hi everybody. I'm Minnie Rae and I'm on a mission from Goddess."One of them was a dark-skinned woman with black hair, wearing a black dress with black shoes. Her name was Goth. She sniffed and said, "Something smells funny," and threw a rock in a random direction. "Just practicing," she said to no one in particular.

"Can you like help me save the world?" I asked.

Prisoner Number Six is the patron saint of the HR Discordians. You know, the guy who said he was a free man not a number? Only, like, he escaped!
Then the group made an opening, and this middle-aged, bald man with a white beard walked out. He face was furrowed with angry scowls and crevices so deep you could use them to hide pizza and beer. "We heard about you, DAP," he spat, and where he spit smoke rose up. I knew I was in trouble, because this was the angry Reverend Roadkill! "You're one of those Really Real Discordians who think everyone should agree with you, aren't you?," he spat.

"Well, we know the real Discordia, a hateful, vengeful Goddess with a cold, steely knife hidden in her dark bosom. We heard you plan to throw seriousness in the garbage, dine on non-existent freedom, and save a sliver of hope for dessert!" exclaimed Roadkill. "And we hate that!" "Hate!" "Fail!" "Hate Fail!" they said, nodding their heads in agreement with each other and scowling in disagreement with me.

"Reverend Roadkill is right!" said one. "Nobody can tell us what to think!" said another. The others said; "Roadkill is totally right!" "Two Mittens up!" "10 mittens!" "Infinite mittens!" "Infinite Mittens and w1n!"

"Sorry," this long-haired, bearded man in a dirty white robe named Pope Ratatattat whispered to me, "but we must hate you on principle alone. Nothing personal." Then loudly he said, "I give Reverend Roadkill five mittens!"

"FIVE MITTENS?!" said the group all together. "Isn't five that old smelly Erisian number?" asked one. "Isn't that from that old smelly hippie Principia Discordia?" asked another.

"ALL CONDEMNATION TO FOOLS AND TOOLS!!" said the group as they held up their stones. I mean their rocks, not their private parts. I was totally terrified they'd start throwing them at me! That's not the way I like getting stoned. But then I saw they were all looking at the long-haired man in the white robe.

The man made the Discordian peace sign and said, "Peace." Somehow, I knew that was totally the wrong thing for him to say. I ran away like a mouse in a cat house!

*****





Strangely, the section on "Hippie Discordians" names Uncle BadTouch directly.

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

Indeed, it is very suspsicious that someone "associated" with Uncle BadTouch yet not shown to have any independent existence should feel to post on this site using a proxy all the time.

Silly. I'm a registered SCA, ACLU, and PETA member you can find all those online, and you can see my articles on Uncyclopedia where Cainad was my mentor.   

If I'm Rev. Uncle BadTouch I'm also Alan Moore, Rev. Pee Kitty, Rev. Ivan Stang, and Sondra London.

But I'm not arguing anymore I know how you peeps are master baiters. 

Nice try attempting to compare yourself to people who actually matter.

[tyrannosaurus vex]

Speaking of which, anyone see the Uncyclopedia entry on Discordianism lately?

I just read the article, and I didn't find a single fucking word about Discordianism. Anyway, it did have this section:

Hate Rant Discordians
The Hate Rant Discordians welcomed me with open arms. And fists full of rocks.
"Look around you. Look at these cold, black bars. The colorless ceiling. The hard ground. That's your universe. That's the world you're going to be living in for the rest of your life here in Prison."
~ The Black Iron Prison
"Or kill me."
~ The Black Iron Prison
The next group of Discordians saw me first. I figured they had heard of my mission, and were coming in the shape of a five-sided pentagram to greet me. But when they got closer, I saw they were arranged more like an oblong and were carrying stones and rocks. I knew they were Hate Rant Discordians, and I was quite worried. But they totally ignored me.
I swallowed hard. In my profession I have a lot of practice doing that. I said, "Hi everybody. I'm Minnie Rae and I'm on a mission from Goddess."One of them was a dark-skinned woman with black hair, wearing a black dress with black shoes. Her name was Goth. She sniffed and said, "Something smells funny," and threw a rock in a random direction. "Just practicing," she said to no one in particular.
"Can you like help me save the world?" I asked.


Prisoner Number Six is the patron saint of the HR Discordians. You know, the guy who said he was a free man not a number? Only, like, he escaped!
Then the group made an opening, and this middle-aged, bald man with a white beard walked out. He face was furrowed with angry scowls and crevices so deep you could use them to hide pizza and beer. "We heard about you, DAP," he spat, and where he spit smoke rose up. I knew I was in trouble, because this was the angry Reverend Roadkill! "You're one of those Really Real Discordians who think everyone should agree with you, aren't you?," he spat.
"Well, we know the real Discordia, a hateful, vengeful Goddess with a cold, steely knife hidden in her dark bosom. We heard you plan to throw seriousness in the garbage, dine on non-existent freedom, and save a sliver of hope for dessert!" exclaimed Roadkill. "And we hate that!" "Hate!" "Fail!" "Hate Fail!" they said, nodding their heads in agreement with each other and scowling in disagreement with me.
"Reverend Roadkill is right!" said one. "Nobody can tell us what to think!" said another. The others said; "Roadkill is totally right!" "Two Mittens up!" "10 mittens!" "Infinite mittens!" "Infinite Mittens and w1n!"
"Sorry," this long-haired, bearded man in a dirty white robe named Pope Ratatattat whispered to me, "but we must hate you on principle alone. Nothing personal." Then loudly he said, "I give Reverend Roadkill five mittens!"
"FIVE MITTENS?!" said the group all together. "Isn't five that old smelly Erisian number?" asked one. "Isn't that from that old smelly hippie Principia Discordia?" asked another.
"ALL CONDEMNATION TO FOOLS AND TOOLS!!" said the group as they held up their stones. I mean their rocks, not their private parts. I was totally terrified they'd start throwing them at me! That's not the way I like getting stoned. But then I saw they were all looking at the long-haired man in the white robe.
The man made the Discordian peace sign and said, "Peace." Somehow, I knew that was totally the wrong thing for him to say. I ran away like a mouse in a cat house!

Which is probably about PD discordians, as viewed through some kind of broken ass filter.

Besides that I counted 4 or 5 references to children and sex sharing the same statement, and then I quit reading on "clearly written by a creep" grounds.

[hooplala]

Speaking of which, anyone see the Uncyclopedia entry on Discordianism lately?

I just read the article, and I didn't find a single fucking word about Discordianism. Anyway, it did have this section:

Hate Rant Discordians
The Hate Rant Discordians welcomed me with open arms. And fists full of rocks.
"Look around you. Look at these cold, black bars. The colorless ceiling. The hard ground. That's your universe. That's the world you're going to be living in for the rest of your life here in Prison."
~ The Black Iron Prison
"Or kill me."
~ The Black Iron Prison
The next group of Discordians saw me first. I figured they had heard of my mission, and were coming in the shape of a five-sided pentagram to greet me. But when they got closer, I saw they were arranged more like an oblong and were carrying stones and rocks. I knew they were Hate Rant Discordians, and I was quite worried. But they totally ignored me.
I swallowed hard. In my profession I have a lot of practice doing that. I said, "Hi everybody. I'm Minnie Rae and I'm on a mission from Goddess."One of them was a dark-skinned woman with black hair, wearing a black dress with black shoes. Her name was Goth. She sniffed and said, "Something smells funny," and threw a rock in a random direction. "Just practicing," she said to no one in particular.
"Can you like help me save the world?" I asked.


Prisoner Number Six is the patron saint of the HR Discordians. You know, the guy who said he was a free man not a number? Only, like, he escaped!
Then the group made an opening, and this middle-aged, bald man with a white beard walked out. He face was furrowed with angry scowls and crevices so deep you could use them to hide pizza and beer. "We heard about you, DAP," he spat, and where he spit smoke rose up. I knew I was in trouble, because this was the angry Reverend Roadkill! "You're one of those Really Real Discordians who think everyone should agree with you, aren't you?," he spat.
"Well, we know the real Discordia, a hateful, vengeful Goddess with a cold, steely knife hidden in her dark bosom. We heard you plan to throw seriousness in the garbage, dine on non-existent freedom, and save a sliver of hope for dessert!" exclaimed Roadkill. "And we hate that!" "Hate!" "Fail!" "Hate Fail!" they said, nodding their heads in agreement with each other and scowling in disagreement with me.
"Reverend Roadkill is right!" said one. "Nobody can tell us what to think!" said another. The others said; "Roadkill is totally right!" "Two Mittens up!" "10 mittens!" "Infinite mittens!" "Infinite Mittens and w1n!"
"Sorry," this long-haired, bearded man in a dirty white robe named Pope Ratatattat whispered to me, "but we must hate you on principle alone. Nothing personal." Then loudly he said, "I give Reverend Roadkill five mittens!"
"FIVE MITTENS?!" said the group all together. "Isn't five that old smelly Erisian number?" asked one. "Isn't that from that old smelly hippie Principia Discordia?" asked another.
"ALL CONDEMNATION TO FOOLS AND TOOLS!!" said the group as they held up their stones. I mean their rocks, not their private parts. I was totally terrified they'd start throwing them at me! That's not the way I like getting stoned. But then I saw they were all looking at the long-haired man in the white robe.
The man made the Discordian peace sign and said, "Peace." Somehow, I knew that was totally the wrong thing for him to say. I ran away like a mouse in a cat house!

Which is probably about PD discordians, as viewed through some kind of broken ass filter.

Besides that I counted 4 or 5 references to children and sex sharing the same statement, and then I quit reading on "clearly written by a creep" grounds.

Your optimism amuses me.

[Nephew Twiddleton]

Yeah, I remember reading that article and laughing.

Cramulus was included under a different section.

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

The thing that I can't see why you never learn, Uncle BadTouch, is that your constant attention-seeking attempts at self-aggrandization make people not like you. Creepy pedo stuff aside, that, all by itself, is obnoxious and offputting. Promoting yourself under a sockpuppet name, or worse yet, using someone else's actual online persona as a sockpuppet name, especially that of a college-age girl, is way beyond pathetic. In fact, it veers pretty quickly into pathological territory.

I mean, think about it. You're pretending to be your own sycophant.

[The Good Reverend Roger]

Reverend Roadkill.   

The condemnation of assholes is a benediction.

I see Nigel is mentioned as well.   

[LMNO]

I am offended that I am not mentioned, especially because they quoted one of my bits from the BIP.

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

Maybe we should have a peace and love section where no one is allowed to say anything mean or negative. Just to see what happens.

[The Good Reverend Roger]

I am offended that I am not mentioned, especially because they quoted one of my bits from the BIP.

Maybe if you were Black or something?

[The Good Reverend Roger]

Maybe we should have a peace and love section where no one is allowed to say anything mean or negative. Just to see what happens.

Fuck that shit, Goth.   

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

Reverend Roadkill.   

The condemnation of assholes is a benediction.

I see Nigel is mentioned as well.   

Loved that. I also kind of loved the (unconscious, I'm sure) racist implications. 

[The Good Reverend Roger]

Reverend Roadkill.   

The condemnation of assholes is a benediction.

I see Nigel is mentioned as well.   

Loved that. I also kind of loved the (unconscious, I'm sure) vaguely racist implications. 

What DID you expect?

RR,

[The Good Reverend Roger]

I also love how everyone on PD is my mindless slave.

DANCE FOR ME, FOOLS! 

DANCE, I SAID!

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

Maybe we should have a peace and love section where no one is allowed to say anything mean or negative. Just to see what happens.

Fuck that shit, Goth.   

I'M SO GOTHY

GOTHY GOTH GOTH

AND I LIKE TO THROW ROCKS AT PEOPLE BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT GOTHS DO. 

I had no idea that Goths were an angry mob! OH HOLY SHIT WAIT. I think they got something right:



Yep. That's an angry mob all right. An angry Black mob of Goths.