BigJimsWornOutTires
Kraken
- Joined
- Feb 6, 2021
- Posts
- 20,450
- Reputation
- 22,932
See the title? Bingo! Disgustingly creepy and repulsive. Right? Booyah. Cringe is my moniker.
Never, will I be that guy! You know, the one. He writes for approval. He types inside a virtual signal tunnel. That tunnel is infested with liberal parasites spurted from mainstream media cesspools. According to the favorable current political party's mascot, he composes its nature with glory. If it's faggots, he'll write faggot romance stories. If it's manipulating young female dummies not sure about pregnancy, he'll write about abortions having happy endings.
Those writers are pseudos and the most dangerous to our nation, to our kids, to our future. They write under deception while kissing the bullies' asses. And when they're not writing, they're a danger to our communities, our families, our prosperity as a conservative society. Usually, they have temper problems. Like Stephen King. When he gets angry, he drives to a downtown area late at night and looks for a weak ladyboy to beat ... his meat. <cringe> In my opinion, that is. Maybe he doesn't! Who knows, right?
Moreover, I'm against writers that suck up to political jackasses and their fallacy to keep the little people poor and confused. I despise young writers lusting for mainstream media blessing, those news station dipshits. Or the arrogant fuckface talk shows. Those are the ones that help push narratives that cost many lives and destroy equal careers. Driven people to suicide and infected millions of children. They inspired boys to cut their willies off; the girls, cut their breasts off. They make me fucking sick to my gaddam stomach!
My garbage is contentious to those virtual signal molesters. They rather have me banned. Social media moderators, like from FB, many of them are also aspired amateur writers. When they read my posts, immediately, they shadow-ban me. They rather siphon from my conscious state of mind and twist the truth with their sullen misinformation. They can read it, I can read it, but the public is prohibited. I'm that contagious.
Some authors prefer to provoke you! Some rather seduce you. My goal in this writer's world is malevolent, but purr. Not that I feed on schadenfreude from the reader's ill emotions, I rather my cringe hang in the back of their throats like a viscous dangling droplet of cum. I wanna make you cringe! I want you to taste the cringe. A surge of bile in your stomach as unadulterated hatred takes hold, prompting your instinctive response, "You nasty creepy motherfucker!"
Yes! I don't give a fuck! And no, don't ever see my art as satire. I don't care if you think I'm a muscular, handsome dummy who belongs naked in a mental ward being masturbated by midlife crisis housewives, I DO NOT CARE! "Fuck you!" he said as she walked into the living room, confused, she wondered who he was talking to.
"Are you okay?" she asked with elevated brows. She had just met the big guy earlier that evening picking up her dog's shit during a daily routine in her neighborhood.
"Yup!" he said without worry that he got caught talking to the invisible audience in her bookcase. He took a few steps and fell onto her sofa and patted his legs, gesturing for her company.
Still perplexed, she said, "I'm not a dog."
"I know that. Come get that wet pussy up in my face."
She cringed ... CRINGED! Cringed and did just that because many single career women are free to do whatever they want ... including shoving their pussy and ass into a stranger's face.
Never, will I be that guy! You know, the one. He writes for approval. He types inside a virtual signal tunnel. That tunnel is infested with liberal parasites spurted from mainstream media cesspools. According to the favorable current political party's mascot, he composes its nature with glory. If it's faggots, he'll write faggot romance stories. If it's manipulating young female dummies not sure about pregnancy, he'll write about abortions having happy endings.
Those writers are pseudos and the most dangerous to our nation, to our kids, to our future. They write under deception while kissing the bullies' asses. And when they're not writing, they're a danger to our communities, our families, our prosperity as a conservative society. Usually, they have temper problems. Like Stephen King. When he gets angry, he drives to a downtown area late at night and looks for a weak ladyboy to beat ... his meat. <cringe> In my opinion, that is. Maybe he doesn't! Who knows, right?
Moreover, I'm against writers that suck up to political jackasses and their fallacy to keep the little people poor and confused. I despise young writers lusting for mainstream media blessing, those news station dipshits. Or the arrogant fuckface talk shows. Those are the ones that help push narratives that cost many lives and destroy equal careers. Driven people to suicide and infected millions of children. They inspired boys to cut their willies off; the girls, cut their breasts off. They make me fucking sick to my gaddam stomach!
My garbage is contentious to those virtual signal molesters. They rather have me banned. Social media moderators, like from FB, many of them are also aspired amateur writers. When they read my posts, immediately, they shadow-ban me. They rather siphon from my conscious state of mind and twist the truth with their sullen misinformation. They can read it, I can read it, but the public is prohibited. I'm that contagious.
Some authors prefer to provoke you! Some rather seduce you. My goal in this writer's world is malevolent, but purr. Not that I feed on schadenfreude from the reader's ill emotions, I rather my cringe hang in the back of their throats like a viscous dangling droplet of cum. I wanna make you cringe! I want you to taste the cringe. A surge of bile in your stomach as unadulterated hatred takes hold, prompting your instinctive response, "You nasty creepy motherfucker!"
Yes! I don't give a fuck! And no, don't ever see my art as satire. I don't care if you think I'm a muscular, handsome dummy who belongs naked in a mental ward being masturbated by midlife crisis housewives, I DO NOT CARE! "Fuck you!" he said as she walked into the living room, confused, she wondered who he was talking to.
"Are you okay?" she asked with elevated brows. She had just met the big guy earlier that evening picking up her dog's shit during a daily routine in her neighborhood.
"Yup!" he said without worry that he got caught talking to the invisible audience in her bookcase. He took a few steps and fell onto her sofa and patted his legs, gesturing for her company.
Still perplexed, she said, "I'm not a dog."
"I know that. Come get that wet pussy up in my face."
She cringed ... CRINGED! Cringed and did just that because many single career women are free to do whatever they want ... including shoving their pussy and ass into a stranger's face.
