You mean this "event" for which there is no record at ASU events planning, the governor's office, the local newspaper, the student newspaper, the three mayor's offices (yep, someone checked).
The importance here is demonstrating you are a flatulent fraud who will lie to his friends.
You're a fraud, Daniel. A big, fat, fucking fraud.
aerius: I'll vote for you if you sleep with me. Lusankya: Deal!
Say, do you want it to be a threesome with your wife? Or a foursome with your wife and sister-in-law? I'm up for either.
You know, there are people in the world that have actually done something of consequence against me in RL that I don't obsess over the way you prople obsess over RDJ.
It's pathetic.
It shows a desperation that is revealing in itself.
You have too much free time, jousting at windmills is no way to spend it.
Obviously, I struck a very sensitive nerve with our little "discreetly playful" ass-dwelling cowboi.
I showed up in TNZ and disrespected his proud, pathetic little "pecking order." I think he's very concerned with things like that; probably got the shit smacked out of him as a child for doing the same thing once or twice, and now he thinks it's his turn to do the smacking.
It couldn't have been easy for young Hopalong, growing up in a Fundie house -- I say that because, while he claims to be an Atheist, he demonstrated repeatedly at TNZ and at TK that he's more than a little gung-ho to defend the stupidity of Fundies like GC, even when that stupidity is aggressively self-evident. He's standing up for Daddy, is all, and it's really gotten quite sickening.
That, of course, also accounts for his mostly closeted and very "discreet" quest for a little ass, and his constant attempts to transfer his own Daddy issues to his enemies. He's disgusted by his own unshakeable quasi-Oedipean urges, so he tries to use them to insult others. It's the frequency with which you do it that gives you away, Hopalong.
Poor cowboi. Met someone who probably reminded him of himself as a kid -- no wonder all the loathing, then. It's self-loathing, directed at a handy external target to save him the pain of self-evaluation.
But that doesn't mean I'm not going to tell you to go fuck a handful of broken glass stuffed up your dog's anus, cowboi. Lube up, bitch.
