I don’t know how many people here enjoy a good online chat with a few choice strangers. But I do. I especially enjoy Omegle… if ever you want to find a cross section of Trolls, Social Ruhtards, and sad desperate sexually incompetent strangers… it is your place to shine. Of course there are the rare, but much appreciated, normies who strike up a wonderful conversation and make the experience worth while… but that’s not where we are going today.
This week we uncover Sock Puppets. No I don’t mean any sexual disorder dealing with personality issues and cashmere. Nor do I mean the world famous Penis Puppets. What I mean is people posing as someone or something they are not. Don’t get me wrong, sometimes pretending to be someone you are not is healthy… say reading a book or playing a video game… what I mean is totally different.
So I am playing a game on a relatively well known site that offers a plethora of flash based mind numbing. Here I am, enjoying myself and I decide to look at the side bar to see a chatter trying to get the attention of a “female” chatter. There are a lot of various “hey babbies” and the like, and she continues to play this unsuspecting dude like a fiddle. Personally, I feel it is my prerogative to interfere so as to make sure everyone avoids any unto embarrassment. Let’s face it, there are guys out there who will pose as a woman to get what they want and it pisses me off… grinds my gears, to turn a phrase. These Sock Puppets manage to get boys to buy credits or other non-real currency for the Puppets with their own hard earned cash. Now mind you, people can do whatever the hell they want to with their own money… and yes, stupid is as stupid does… but again, it gets me.
With this going on, I make a comment about this Puppet being something they are not. This is the best part, because EVERY game I have played or every site I have been involved with that has a system based currency that you can trade has had this exact same story that passes from generation to generation and system to system. First it is the pity card, “my parents are dead” and “I live alone with my sister” are common repetitions. No parents suggests that this “girl” has free reign to do as she pleases… Living with the sister gets the hormone crazed teenager brain to make suggestive leaps and bounds. If you keep pressing and asking key questions based on their responses, you find holes. The “dead parents” are suddenly separated or not in the picture, the sister can vary even more wildly from aunt to… my favorite… brother. Are you so lost in your deceit that you didn’t even make a cheat sheet to refer to when the questions arise so you can avoid such snafus? Snafi? Snafulu?
Now yes, I look like a complete D-Bag by picking on a poor girl who lost her family and can only make ends meet by slumming credits off of poor unsuspecting schmucks who live in a self imposed solitude of potato chips, Mountain Dew, and hygene induced celibacy. Or do I? Remember I said I know the signs to look for. When these people start up, I take a gander at the good old fashioned profile. What do we find here? A half completed “about me” and a gender… possibly age… but what stands out is the painfully hot profile picture showing off a perfect six pack, C+ cups, and legs that go to forever. Yes, I know some hot gamer girls so I am not prejudiced, but that is why I love TinEye.com. With reverse photo lookup what do you find? The exact same image posted thousands of times on… whats that? Russian and Persian “Lady Pages.” Each one has a completely different profile and a staggeringly diverse range of locations.
What happens when you raise this issue with the owner of the picture in their profile on the game site chat room? ‘Lo and behold, a week later the profile is gone. Oh well… one down, 10million to go… Maybe if other people went through the trouble I have of finding and exposing trolls, we would have less people whining about how they feel bullied by strangers on chat sites, but that is a rant for another day.
Have you ever been walking down the street; watching the birds fly blissfully by, pondering all the little things of the universe, and all together minding your own business only to be stopped in your tracks by somebody who wants to talk about Jesus and their prescription of dystopia and ignorance? I have.
Let me tell you, this is a special breed of people who piss me off. Do I really care about why you need to go to a building once a week to hear some archaeic and antiquated words from some dude who thinks himself the personal mouth of his god? Do I want to hear about why some corpse who couldn’t save himself will somehow save me because he called himself a demigod and married a hooker? Does it really matter, in the grand scheme of things, whether or not I get on my knees and BEG for some Zeus-like beardyman in an alabaster throne to whisk me away to a land of androgynous winged people who think excitement is sitting quietly in a white room, feeling guilty, while enjoying whitebread and water? For the love of Ganesh, NO!
They say they love everyone and want everyone to be happy. That their god gave us… GAVE US… free will to do and say and want and fuck whatever the hell we want. BUT, here is the good part, you can only have fun if you’re not turning people to salt and being an all around dick like their god was. Hey, buddy, if you claim that you love everyone and want us to be happy, leave us the fuck alone… WE DON’T CARE… and if we did we would convert with or without your own special dose of brainwashing. Your god said that we will all go to your heaven whether or not we believe… so suck it.
Personally, I figure that all of the fun people in the world AND all of the horrible people are going to hell if you are right. WHY would I pass up the chance to sit around with all of the great minds waxing all things great and small and still get the opportunity to give Adolph a swift kick in the ass while sipping on a Harvey Wallbanger?
Lest we forget, Mormons believe that there are a limited number of seats in heaven. Somewhere in the ballpark of 200k. And JV’s can’t even throw a party. Why would I even want to take those odds or live in such monotony? I will take Hell and beer any day of the week. So please, bible thumpers, leave us godless heathens alone so we can get on with our lives and get to hell where we belong.
Years have gone by and I have ranted. Life has gone on and I have ranted. This blog is now my attempt to get some people out there to look around and think about the world around them in a new light. Why? You may ask… because in this beautiful new age of social media, any idiot can wander a few sites and add their measly two cents to the dregs of social retardation. It’s my turn.
What will you find here? Maybe some basic complaints about peoples behavior. Maybe a base explanation as to how early South Americans made their heads elongated. Maybe the path of enlightenment, but I doubt it.If anything here offends you, if anything you read here makes you want to drop a deuce on your bosses desk, if it makes you feel uncomfortable… good. I was not put on this Earth to pat you on the head and give you a cookie for being a good drone, and I was taught at a young age that any day gone without offending at least one person is a day wasted. However, that does not mean I am a malevolent force… in fact I am quite benevolent… but sometimes we need an eye opener.
What the future will bring…
Bicycles and you: The willing grease spots
Politics: Governmental Masturbation
Sexual Incompetence: Let’s spread disease together
Social Order: Adopt anarchy as a unifying government
Stupid People: Does this need a pretext?