To Kaftan Boy: My dear little boy, when I emailed you about the jersey shirt that you wore -- I was not bitter as you like to assume. I was merely disappointed with your ideals that you'd idolize a homophobic person. It is akin to idolize a rapist in Kobe Bryant. No difference, really. And you never responded. Such a bitter little boy, it took awhile for you to talk about it -- but to a wrong person. Learn to talk with me about it. It is no secret that I have friends on left, enemies on right -- and it is no secret that I also have friends in the middle. It is something that you, Kraftan Boy, do not want to acknowledge. Suit yourself.
To WILD4SURFING: I grew up in Hopewell, Virginia -- if you look at the map closely, there is Fort Lee nearby. There is several naval bases less than an hour away. I know what I'm talking about. And hell, I have three sisters whom I had to endure watching the soldiers on heat chasing after them. And trust me, the majority of 'em are ... what? Please write it down again? Speak slowly. What a fuck! They are idiots to start with. Good enough for some officers to tell them to shoot and pick up the carcasses. That's it.
And to that Stupid-But-Saved Girl: Yes, Virginia, there is a word for Baloney, you dumbfuck.
The whole point with my December 21st, 2004 entry was to instigate an interesting debate about this, that and there -- who gives a fuck about your daily stories in your household? I don't care if you got a letter from your aunt who has a gallstone! I do not give a fuck if your daughter had a diarrhea today! I do not give a fuck if your husband did not get hard-on today for you! I do not give a fuck if you got a menopause today! I chose you, WILD4SURFING, because you fit in the classic image: Conservative and religious nut. That's all. That's it.
Oooh, I'm scared that you're running to your friends who are in the Marines.
Tell me to get out of this country? Fuck you, this is my country. I want you to get out of here. I want you to sink in the fucking ocean. I am exercising my rights to speak my thoughts. If you whine, that is your fucking problem.
And Kraft Boy, too.
And guys, guys -- get a clue: My comments do not mean that I am bitter, angry man. It has nothing to do with it at all -- but like McFly once said, you guys only wanted to label me as a bitter, angry man as the means for you to feel better and look down at someone else who challenged you -- in her words, what an intellectual masturbation for you to use.
I'm done with your cries, rantings -- Kraft Boy and WildNSlut, you guys are pathetic.
To coin my good friend's phrase: SYL!