Originally Posted by
nextlevelshit
Scooter, although I was talking in general terms in regards to laws I suppose your discussion was only crimes of passion.
Crimes of passion = Law (effectively)
Constitutional law or contracts or torts etc - aren't really laws so much as they should be regulations or codes. I mean, a court only ever needs to get involved when legislation is butchered. And legislation is only ever butchered to facilitate corruption. I wish I could show you the copies of the UK Gaming Act 2005 and various ad hoc and overlapping legislative documents that ostensibly 'regulated' the UK-White-Listed Lotteries and Gaming Commission of Malta; where the majority of the world's 'legit' online gaming companies were licensed to offer their services to the world. This was legislation intentionally written to allow corruption to get out of any 'hole' (you know, that was the intention of incompetence). The legislation was written so horribly, by morons who could and really should have resulted in a scandal forcing the resignation of Cabinet ministers; that I was compelled to collate the evidence, proving every single online casino in the entire world was guilty of "serious offences" under multiple acts.
It was pretty serious stuff, and so after procrastinating for a substantially longer-than-acceptable few months; one day I got drunk and compiled all the laws being broken, and compelled (in some cases) to be considered "serious offences"....
['edit': Literally no idea what the fuck this post was because I never posted it, pretty sure I can prove it as well but then maybe when you're logged into a forum from multiple machines in a 'Sleeping' state weird shit can happen?
Below is the third draft of 80,000 word mess, but then I'm stubborn and in a hurry. The first two 'drafts' were 40k and brilliant but I had more good points to make over and over forgetting I had made them already. That's what editing is traditionally used for, as in; I understand that's it's function for existing. I think it's superfluous. I'm streamlining the process of writing. Trust me.
But you don't need to trust me about the creepy bullshit. I just lose shit to error messages you can't explain when I post them. You will want to focus on something insulting, like have I heard of a word processor? Have you heard of Auto-Save not working? Then you'd know word processors don't work either. When someone who made them doesn't want them to.
Wouldn't I prefer to believe something ridiculously plausible if ridiculous, rather than something Obvious and terrifyingly creepy - like the reality? Trust me. I would. I love plausible.
It's just that a year of denial much like that gets very old when nothing could be less plausible, than - not - posting gibberish, posting brilliance actually, and not - actually - managing to post anything because stuff like this keeps happening:
Oh you will say, why don't you type in Wordpad, TextEdit or AutoSave.
I would rather kill you than explain how moronically insulting you're being - to yourself - when you think you're 'patronising' me, but I will say this much: I am not 'tight' enough with Apple, to be buying "Clean Writer Pro" and "IA Writer" without furious rage at being coerced into extortion. One day you'll have to tell me how you do it so willingly, just jumping straight into sleaze and insults and a warm mother's embrace (as you do). Get your mouth off her boobies, you creep.
You cannot imagine how offensive you are when see a post of gibberish I write and imagine that a) I'm not capable of laughing at sleep deprivation's ability to write less eloquently, than the less eloquent than the recent eloquence which got me into this mess, or b) have gotten - that - bad at communication, that I'm completely wasting my time on redundancy; when I only believed it was a 99-1 % thing.
You filthy creeps.
There had better be references alerting me to my victimisation of sleep deprivation (a noble risk one runs, when one runs circles around sleep - a cost written into the bottom line, if there is one, and there doesn't need to be, with sleep) or my victimisation - as this was - of more creepy powers than Sleep's remarkable attachment to me. Forever weakening, but then it snatches at you when you least expect it with something of a demoralising - or even, humbling - intensity.
But you filthy creeps don't know who I am. I am not demoralised, not when I'm not shrieking motherfuckers. And I will never be humbled by your creepy attempts to transfer your mother onto me. You see shit you think is dementia? Retardation. A fucking spelling or a grammar error; you'd be advised to point it out to me. Publicly or privately, what the fuck do I care?
Only your filthy mother has creepy shit to hide. Sane people have no problem with living their lives in full transparency; but this does not mean they will tolerate those who refuse to reciprocate from creeping ever further onto an ever-shrinking liberty. If it ever even existed, in the first place. In a world of godless and mothered creeps, like yall. I could spit, if I wasn't dehydrated already.
The nausea of you, you vomit-inducing humans. Point out errors. Treat it as your duty. It's in your best interests, trust me!
(7 more of these are coming. Draft 1.)