Horrible Job!
The Fark photoshoppers recently combined their talents to produce a steaming pile of garbage. They were successful in creating the world's ugliest train! Way to go guys!
AssWiperZERO, why do you bother?
Critique? It's becoming a blog of praise and ass kissing.
Showering compliments on a bunch of photoshop entries and then weakly insulting a few random liters is what he has resorted to, now that he is terrified people know his identity.
I used to enjoy reading that blog. I looked forward to the personal attacks on grampy, Texaco Saves and Brian O'Blivion.
The times have changed though, and now I'm afraid I'll have to turn to other blogs to get my fill of hate.
Showering compliments on a bunch of photoshop entries and then weakly insulting a few random liters is what he has resorted to, now that he is terrified people know his identity.
I used to enjoy reading that blog. I looked forward to the personal attacks on grampy, Texaco Saves and Brian O'Blivion.
The times have changed though, and now I'm afraid I'll have to turn to other blogs to get my fill of hate.
I got PWNed by the Doctor!
Look down at me and you see a fool;
look up at me and you see a god;
look straight at me and you see yourself
look up at me and you see a god;
look straight at me and you see yourself
You call it your burden. You draw attention to your plight.
You whine and you moan, but make sure you're in sight.
When the pale horse comes
When the death rattle hums
There'll be none of you left, and to me that would be all right.
It was all just a show. You wore the costume of the clown.
You prayed they wouldn't find out. That your facade wasn't torn down.
It would crush your pathetic life,
but maybe what you need is a little strife.
Something to bring you back down to earth, and smash your porcelain mask upon the ground!
You whine and you moan, but make sure you're in sight.
When the pale horse comes
When the death rattle hums
There'll be none of you left, and to me that would be all right.
It was all just a show. You wore the costume of the clown.
You prayed they wouldn't find out. That your facade wasn't torn down.
It would crush your pathetic life,
but maybe what you need is a little strife.
Something to bring you back down to earth, and smash your porcelain mask upon the ground!
I get it!
I know what the other blogs are saying. There's no need to e-mail me and tell me.
Like I've said before, I'm not going to correspond or go back and forth with anyone trying to start some pathetic feud with me. I've only been in contact with tfpstc, and that was only one time, which I am sure the AssWiperZERO would attest to.
Anyone claiming to have an email from me, or that I've posted on their blog is a liar. I've also only responded to one email that was sent to me. I have no problem letting people know that I stand behind my opinion instead of leaving an anonymous comment.
Those blogs serve as paparazzi for another blog. That's the saddest thing in the world.
Like I've said before, I'm not going to correspond or go back and forth with anyone trying to start some pathetic feud with me. I've only been in contact with tfpstc, and that was only one time, which I am sure the AssWiperZERO would attest to.
Anyone claiming to have an email from me, or that I've posted on their blog is a liar. I've also only responded to one email that was sent to me. I have no problem letting people know that I stand behind my opinion instead of leaving an anonymous comment.
Those blogs serve as paparazzi for another blog. That's the saddest thing in the world.
Under the glass
Nice entries into the 7 deadly sins contests everyone. I was almost able to stay awake while looking at them.
I barely had the urge to gouge my eyes out.
Where's the skill and inspired creativity? Artisitic vision is replaced by the lukewarm carcass of hollow ideas.
I barely had the urge to gouge my eyes out.
Where's the skill and inspired creativity? Artisitic vision is replaced by the lukewarm carcass of hollow ideas.
It's hidden in plain sight, but that doesn't mean it's right
I choose not to partake in them. Blog feuds. Name calling. I've read their comments.
"The Critic is gay" is what they all say. Brash maybe, but you're the puddle of humanity that was offended by it. You stained your skirt.
I know what they are saying. I refuse to respond.
I'm above that. Write about me. I'm not above my ego.
Your socks are wet
"The Critic is gay" is what they all say. Brash maybe, but you're the puddle of humanity that was offended by it. You stained your skirt.
I know what they are saying. I refuse to respond.
I'm above that. Write about me. I'm not above my ego.
Your socks are wet
Turn Me On, Dead Man
Why was he the one not wearing any shoes?
What are the skeletal hands reaching for?
What does he have to lose?
Tell me Paul, tell me just how did you get that scar?
Was it a Wednesday morning when you left your mind inside that car?
John played the part of the clergy and George already dug your grave.When Ringo did the undertaking was it too late for you to be saved?
Did Billy Shears take the reins as the sergeant barked out new directions?
Did he turn his back on us because he couldn't match your reflection?
What are the skeletal hands reaching for?
What does he have to lose?
Tell me Paul, tell me just how did you get that scar?
Was it a Wednesday morning when you left your mind inside that car?
John played the part of the clergy and George already dug your grave.When Ringo did the undertaking was it too late for you to be saved?
Did Billy Shears take the reins as the sergeant barked out new directions?
Did he turn his back on us because he couldn't match your reflection?
Post Mortem Depression
Tweedle Dee, Tweedle Dum
Your multiple accounts are so much fun.
You whore and you troll in your quest for more votes.
It's a symphony of disgust, hitting all the sour notes.
I'd be a liar if I said that you all lacked great skill,
but you've fed me so much bullshit, I've had quite my fill.
The new sheep to your flock, are as pretentious as ever.
Unshopped images abound, those are really quite clever.
Where's Aarkieboy to show you all the errors of your ways.
Where's the humor and the skill that once filled our yesterdays.
A wasteland's all that's left upon the contest pages.
The losers have taken over, the bickering still rages.
There's nothing exquicite about this corpse, it's merely beginning to rot.
And the votes and participation will continue to die, whether you like it or not.
Your multiple accounts are so much fun.
You whore and you troll in your quest for more votes.
It's a symphony of disgust, hitting all the sour notes.
I'd be a liar if I said that you all lacked great skill,
but you've fed me so much bullshit, I've had quite my fill.
The new sheep to your flock, are as pretentious as ever.
Unshopped images abound, those are really quite clever.
Where's Aarkieboy to show you all the errors of your ways.
Where's the humor and the skill that once filled our yesterdays.
A wasteland's all that's left upon the contest pages.
The losers have taken over, the bickering still rages.
There's nothing exquicite about this corpse, it's merely beginning to rot.
And the votes and participation will continue to die, whether you like it or not.
They shower in their own venom...
Tangled in self importance, but this never involved you. Your fangs are barbed so we have to rip ourselves apart to be free from you. You're a plague we'd die to be rid of, if only to end our suffering.Everyone wants to be Paul McCartney's replacement.That's when the fireworks really started. The admiration stolen from the dearly departed.
If you could peer up from his grave, you'd see that to his image you're a slave.
As soon as your back is turned, I'd aim for your most tender flesh. Plunge until I reach the hilt.
All for an anonymous vote in my favor.
Contort yourself just to fit the mold, we love that trick it never grows old.
Do us all just one small favor, never wipe the tears from your eyes, it's your suffering we savor.
If you could peer up from his grave, you'd see that to his image you're a slave.
As soon as your back is turned, I'd aim for your most tender flesh. Plunge until I reach the hilt.
All for an anonymous vote in my favor.
Contort yourself just to fit the mold, we love that trick it never grows old.
Do us all just one small favor, never wipe the tears from your eyes, it's your suffering we savor.
You idolize TheSniperZERO.
And why shouldn't you? You sit there, twiddling your thumbs, just wishing you could show people how witty and humorous you are. Your talents are wasting away. You need to find a canvas to spill yourself upon before your ego consumes you.
Then you see TheSniperZERO. Look at all the attention he's getting! That attention should have been yours. You can't let your words fall on deaf ears.
Like a leech you cling to him. You wear mirrors to try and reflect his minimal success. You're the sincerest form of flattery, however oblivious to it you may be.
Then you see TheSniperZERO. Look at all the attention he's getting! That attention should have been yours. You can't let your words fall on deaf ears.
Like a leech you cling to him. You wear mirrors to try and reflect his minimal success. You're the sincerest form of flattery, however oblivious to it you may be.
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