You couldn't be more absurd and ridiculous if you tried. I'll briefly dismiss you, then leave a further runic riff for posterity. Don't flatter yourself that we'll waste any more time on an intellectual and ethical harridan like you.
'self-censor instead of trying to censor everyone else'......have a look back at your comment history, in particular your prissy, prim misandry. If you're going to tell me and CG how and when we may discuss blowjobs when in The Pigsty (!), then you, madam, are going to get the mother-of-all-wake up calls. There's a certain droll gallows humour to your comment given your insouciant acquiesence with 'Skyfater's inept attempts to smear us as 'racists'. We note the continued deletion of various posts and threads, but it's hardly important: it's not as if this site has any credibility with regard to privacy, data-protection, moderation or 'reputation' [sic]. We copied everything and have all the search engine caches we need. But thanks to all for playing the game so gormlessly.
You are co-dependendent with the sociopaths. You have hitched your wagon to their in exchange for joining them in their 'reputation' clusterfcuk, which only the crass and the stupid on this site pay any attention to. Your 'Stockholm Syndrome' schtick was interesting, briefly, until it became obvious as a ruse once we gave your 'writings' a cursory scan. We have better things to do in life than attend to your unresolved and entirely pedestrian dramas. Your 'atheism' thread is unintentionally hilarious. Even if we had time to debunk the amateur hour musings there we would not do so, as paying any further attention to your illiterate and illogical 'musings' would only feed the bonfire of your vanities.
You can circle-jerk with 'mcrickson' and the rest and furiously bombard this thread and others with your 'Winona' tropes but you are simply ludicrous. Your attempts to police heterosexual banter is indicative of a profound unease around masculinity, your desperate assumption/labelling of me/us as 'gay' only goes to show that Morrissey's purloining of Vidal/Wilde motifs from us changed nothing. He's had 30 years, time for the retirement party and the long-service career gold-watch. He deserves his delusional 'fans' as they deserve their delusional pseudo-star. 'allyouneedismeallineedisyou' and so on and so forth.
Do not imagine that your attempts at a riposte earn you anything other than legitimate scorn. And, please: remove the 'CM' link to your tiresome blog from your 'signature'. If you can't do that, at least have the decency to carry a public health alert: "Warning! Reading 'realitybites' blog may cause irrevocable damage to your brain."
Goodbye 'realitybites'. Enjoy whatever else happens in your life when this site crashes and burns. Which it will....it surely will.
You will get no further responses. Unless of course, we are truly bored or waiting to catch a plane, train or automobile and feel like rubbing your nose in your own intellectual and moral excretia one more time. To be a writer, you have to have something to say. You have nothing to say. Please stick to gifs. Please delete your blog. Please do not communicate your vapid vacuity to our retinas again. Thanks.
sincerely B.B
'first i was like......
, then i'm like........
......i do not think that meme means wot u fink it meanz!
.........' in some level of bedlam the gifs/youtube/jpeg blizzard continued, but none of it showed up on emails or when browsing the forums using 'print ready' mode.......the '3 Mental Patients' gnased and wailed and beat their tiny fists on their keyboards.....there was no response, other than words. and words failed them.....each.... and.....every....single...time.......
of
!!!
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Cultural algorithmns were showered like confetti by the 'BrummieBoy' team in Birmingham in 1976. It was the ultimate coffee-shop-salon society based in Moseley. It was the real nerve centre of a potential cultural revolution that began in 1972, only to be still-born in 1976 as it almost immediately descended into a tiresome pogo pit of testosterone and spit. Folk came from London, Manchester and all points of the compass to feed at the font of 'BrummieBoys' wisdom. Having absorbed the lessons from art history, Devoto jumped ship too, others followed soon after. Rotten's attempt at morphing his 'public image' back into the authenticity of Lydon was too little, too late. He had been given all that he needed at Bogarts and Barbarellas but, in his innocent anger, he chose to ignore the deeper, wider canvas that was being sketched out. He did not understand 'follow your bliss' and only realised too late that it was nothing to do with supposed 'hippies', but was the very energetic substrate to all the artistic innovations that had led him to find the courage to challenge McClaren's patronising hegemony.
Lawrence (now of Belgravia) and The Prefects initially followed the path with rigour, but L too descended into pantomime once too often, whilst The P's and their later iterations were shamefully ignored for not selling out and not caving in. Kevin, as always, was Kevin and got.....'confused' about notions of 'soul', passion, integrity and later, infamously about gender identity. As for those in 'BrummieBoy': true love trumped the delusionality of 'fame' every single time. All would be revealed: posthumously. All entreaties to manifest @20:12, 20/12, 2012 had been rejected. The 'real' BrummieBoy was very clear and very brief when he cancelled the project: "if popular music and art was going to change anything of substance: it would have happened by now". The planet was not ready for this bliss consciousness and it was too late to use it to prevent Collapse. The fugitive from the role of 'world-leader-pretend' which officers of 'The Moonies' had tried to coerce him into watched as their puppet in South Korea died. He had comprehensively rejected his pre-ordained role as 'The Annointed One'. His sojourn in Los Angeles to eviscerate The Magisterium had taken it's toll: all he was prepared to do now was to finalise the archived oeuvre with 'someCovLad' and pass it to his estate planners. He had been annointmed as a child in Dublin in 1970 and rejected it. Again in Birmingham in 1976 and rejected it. Now, for the third and final time he denied he was The Messiah, by echoing his one true friend by quoting him one last time, in final rejection of stars/gurus/leaders/prophets/messiahs: 'Truth Is A Pathless Land'.Meanwhile, in some outpost of Luxuria, a troubled middle-aged man moved his gaze from the laptop screen to the mirror and plaintively whispered: "so......have I failed?......am i beyond redemption?.......is forgiveness not possible?............"
There was no reply.
regards
'BrummieBoy'
"kids! hurry up! we'll miss the school bus/train. ffs!"
What a shocking revelation!
