And What Have We Here?

A freshly active Team Free Speech Blog!  Right here at sonoranconservative.com!

Seven new posts just in the last three days, all dedicated to pointage, laughery and mockification of Moobflop McBeetusflesh!

I wonder what could have happened so recently to motivate the rapid creation of YET ANOTHER website dedicated to pointing out the MASSIVE LIFE FAILURES of Homo Simpson?

Surely it couldn’t have been in response to the DUMBFUCKERY of a DUMBFUCK!

Remember, people!  Don’t fuck with Moobflop McBeetusflesh or anyone he pre 10 ds to love while telling them he’s like to bend another man over a chair and rape them!  You’ll only wind up in his crosshairs, just like me – laughing at him every single day for the rest of his life.

 

 

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I’M A PRIVATE CITIZEN!

AND I JUST WANT TO BE LEFT ALONE.

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Good Afternoon, DUMBFUCK!

You know, when it comes to “turd lickers,” (did I ever tell you how much I admire your turn of a phrase? GOD, I HOPE NOT!) there’s only one person I can think of who has ever come close to doing so…

I have never seen anything like this.  I have never SMELLED anything like this.
The smell, best as I can describe it, reminds one of a mixture of rotting fish, lawn clippings and chemical cleansers.
If you’re watching the video I shot today, this is what was coming out of me that you can NOT see in the video!
Now, you’re going to think this odd. But at this point, I don’t CARE!
When I wiped, there was this little bright green glob on the paper.  I decided to examine it.
I rolled it around a little. I sniffed it. It was like a booger, only far, FAR stinkier! Never — NEVER — have I seen such a thing in my stool.
And I think we all know who that is, don’t we?
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The Schmalfeldt Method™ of Internet Badassery

First, make sure you’re well stocked on vinegar.  You’re going to need it to douche the yeasty sand out of your pussy.

Second, keep a bag packed for your next post-eviction interstate getaway.  Maybe try north to Minnesota next; it’s a reliably blue state just like Wiscon- oops.

Grab the Johnnie Walker Red and pour yourself a glass of liquid courage.

No.  Bigger glass.

Bigger.  No matter who the target is, you’ll be punching up.

On second thought, maybe just IV the bottle.

Choose your target carefully.  Remember you’ll be punching way up in class (it’s a safe assumption if you’re following the Schmalfeldt Method), so make sure your objective is someone who, when you strike at them, you might be able to reach the sole of their shoe.

If they step off a curb…

And fall into the open sewer where you dwell.

If stalking three year olds makes you feel tough…

If photoshopping someone’s wife onto a giant penis suits your milieu

If calling women cunts, twats, loose coozes, and such makes you feel better about your late wife’s legacy…

If waging a four year battle against a man who called you “some bozo” as you defended a drug dealing, document forging, perjuring, domestic terrorist pedophile is your raison d’être…

Then lace up the golf cleats and drop trou.

Wait until Hogewash! serves up the Team Kimberlin Post of the Day at midnight-ish Eastern time.

Tweet evil things at people who likely are fast asleep because they’re not obsessed stalkers like you.

Ignore anybody who responds, but also block them, you Internet Badass, you.

Then pass out drunk wherever you are. Aunt Edna won’t mind. She loves cleaning up vomit and bowel tragedies.

Get up the next afternoon around 4:00, feed the hangover some coffee from the Red Keurig (and a little hair of the dog from fresh stock), and do it all over again.

Don’t ever surrender, because that would be humiliating.

Not any more humiliating than filing and losing lawsuit after lawsuit after lawsuit after lawsuit after lawsuit after lawsuit after lawsuit…

Not any more humiliating than losing blog after blog after blog after blog…

Not any more humiliating than having nearly one hundred Twitter accounts permanently suspended…

Not any more humiliating than abandoning nearly a hundred more…

Not any more humiliating than cycling through God knows how many rebranded (yet still pointless and stupid) podcasts…

Not any more humiliating than self-publishing yet another Ctrl-C/Ctrl-V masturbation fantasy destined to be yanked off (pun intended) the shelves due to yet another copyright violation…

Let’s face it – if abject humiliation on an ongoing, accelerating schedule is the mayo on your footlong…

The Schmalfeldt Method™ of Internet Badassery is for you!

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The Triumphant Return of King Peondakiddies!

Sure it took him a couple of loooong days to think up something that met the very lowest standards of humor (his own), but he got there in the end.

Never mind that the whole story was a 4chan put up job with not even a single disgusting yellow drop of truth to it.

The King drank it down like lemonade on hot Saturday afternoon.

Who expected less?  Show of hands?

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Good Evening, DUMBFUCK!

Is William the patron saint of Self Awareness FAIL?

If so, DUMBFUCK’S name is well-chosen, indeed.

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Swap Some Names and Stories, Bing, Bang, Boom…

So I see that the New York Times responded to a retraction demand/ litigation threat from Donald Trump today. Here’s what I consider to be the money paragraph:

I could completely rewrite this paragraph in about 4.5 seconds, and DUMBFUCK still wouldn’t get it.

Because DUMBFUCK.

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