"Why is Joel Proud to be a Sober, Pissant Loser?"

Joel salutes the sp**nTard


If you have read alt.drunken.bastards for any length of time, you are probably familiar with an asshuffer by the name of sp**n. He goes by many nicks and email addresses, but he is the only one of his kind. The first part of this page is a post sp**n wrote in response to one of Joel's own. The second is the TardMaster's response, posted to alt.tasteless and our own a.d.b.

From: sp**n
Date: ?

Mr Joel.

Judging from your writing style, I've concluded the following...

Your father beat you over the head with a skillet as he fucked you up the arse. Your mother taught you oral sex. Will you do these things to your children? Statistics prove that you prolly will. That's sad. I look at you more as a mentalpatiant than anything else. I pity you and that makes it difficult to feel anger.

I expected something more original and creative from even
someone along the lines of you, Sp**n.
It takes about 3 seconds to reply to your toothless, pre-pubescant lames. This one took 10 but oh-well, I was intoxicated. You don't drink, do you? I'll bet you drop to your knees and deep-throat illegal alien cock just as soon as you digest 1 drop of alcohol. Sad, sad, you are.
Get back to me when your creativity returns.
1. You are not worthy.
2. You've never generated and original thought in your pisspoor life.
3. You are not worth of my time.
4. I dispense the Insults rather than absorb them.
5. You know you're a mumbling, stuttering little fuck? You know that? I thinks you do.

From: xxxjoel
Newsgroups: alt.tasteless,alt.drunken.bastards
Subject: Re: Why is Joel proud to be a DB?

Date: 09 Apr 97

Mr Joel.
That's Lord-god-king to you, Squickbitch. Don't forget it.
Judging from your writing style, I've concluded the following...
Uh-huh. You seem to "conclude" about as often as you have something of substance to say, which isn't all that often. I'll give you this: 1) a five wood at sixty miles per, and 2) every once in a while, I'm almost amused by your pathetic ramblings, but for the most part, you've nothing to contribute to the electronic world, or even the real world in general. Who gave you the authority to judge anyone? I should have a discussion with your parents again, other than the rental fee for you as my urine recipient. I keep asking myself, Why couldn't sp--n's father have simply 'pulled out' and frosted his whore mother's face with Baby Batter [tm b. dirks] like all the rest of her tricks that night? I mean, what compelled that horrific sembelence of a human being to actually maintain all three inches of his erection to the point of ejaculating into the festered and moldy cervix of such a waste-of-oxygen as that (occasionally) upright-standing-in-the-food-stamp-line pusbag of a Cro Magnon? I suppose the modern world may never know...

[blah blah blah Sex and Violence snipped. The Exploited are cool. Wattie is a fuckin' wanker, though.]

Will you do these things to your children? Statistics prove that you prolly will. That's sad.
Naw, that's life. You're sad. I better fit the profile of the 'average' serial killer. Stastics show that he is a while male hetero living in the United States and is between the ages of 25 and 35. He is considered "polite" and "quiet" by his peers, though he receives little or no recognition from the accomplishments at his workplace. With the exception of Saint Dahmer, he preys exclusively upon women and typically abuses/mutilates a victim's genital areas. Also, he keeps something from the crime scene (of the victim's) as a souvenier of his accomplishment: a ring, a photo I.D., et cetera. All this information can probably be found on some website, but I know all of the above from my personal experiences...
I look at you more as a mental patiant than anything else. I pity you and that makes it difficult to feel anger.
Cool! That's somwhat thoughtful of you. I wish more people (police officers, in particular) felt this way. Think of all the wonderful stuff with which I could get away! See, sp--n? I told you earlier-- even you, on rare occasion, have something worthwhile to contribute. Unfortunately, you've filled your quota for this calendar year, so I suppose matters will soon return to your nonsensical "contributions," out of my lack for better words at this point in time.

By the way, "mentalpatiant" is typically spelled out as "mental patient," by those of us guarding Ward Thirty of St. Roger's Tardfarm, dummy.

You don't drink, do you?
Okay, you're right, sp--n. You found me out. Any of the drunken.bastards care to confirm that I really don't drink? All that puking, fighting, falling all over the place, attempted piss-drinking, yelling at the police, swatting at strippers, trying to jump out of moving cars, chair-throwing and generally acting like a drunken asshole in four different states was all an act, but I guess you've found me out, felchstain. Oh, how I envy your Quincy-like tactics!
1. You are not worthy.
2. You've never generated and original thought in your pisspoor life.
3. You are not worth of my time.
4. I dispense the Insults rather than absorb them.
5. You know you're a mumbling, stuttering little fuck? You know that? I thinks you do.
Alex, I'll take all of the above as "bullshit lines of the decade" for a thousand dollars. Miscreant, you're something akin to a sixteen-year-old: fun to play with, but not worth the trouble of fucking. If nothing else, your dereliction is fodder for my humor and I'll grant you that, but nothing more, except perhaps a shallow grave and a broken smile. Ghod save your soul, as I know you've little else in life.

Welcome to reality,
JOEL


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