It's not that the sites you are quoting are wrong per se, but they are pointing out things in the Old Testament mostly that seem a bit odd or hard to believe
Jesus Fucking Christ. This is the kind of talk that people have to be culled for.
THE ENTIRE BIBLE IS PURE EVIL. You want to worship a different God, then worship a different God. You worship this God? You need to die.
There is nothing that is "a bit odd" about homicidal slaughter, sociopathic violent mania and child rape.
The only thing that's hard to believe is your insanity. The way you get smashed with the evidence, then - like every exploited vassal - you start up with this filthy vile rhetoric.
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but #1 this is stuff that's thousands of years old, was complied and not written at once, has been translated and re-translated over and over again from original language etc.
SHUT THE FUCK UP. I already said in another post, "You wanna REDACT the Bible and call it another religion, I'll take a look." When you take this EVIL and pollute the minds of the globe's children with it, you don't get to turn around and say the filthy shit you're dripping right now.
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What would prove to you God is real then?
What is this? The best defence is an offence idiocy? I have already covered my sane opinions on how to approach the great mass of what is NOT KNOWN. I do not worship what I do not know. I do not pretend that I could know what I do not know. I do not kill and legitimise the killing of others gambling on the idiocy of my ignorance.
What would prove the existence of an Intelligent Designer is proof.
The God of the three Vile books which have destroyed humanity is not intelligent. And he's not real. He's Moses. And you're too stupid to be real. What would prove his existence is if you burned yourself at the stake, and then came back to say "See?" Go do that. chop chop.
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Scuter if you want to hear them ask and I'll post, seems like half the people I tell point to coincidence (though mathematically impossible) and half agree with me so whatever. People always see and believe what they want to.
Do I want to HEAR miracles? Sure. First miracle I want to hear is YOU ADDRESSING THE INSANITY THAT HAS BEEN METICULOUSLY LAID OUT FOR YOUR FUCKING BENEFIT. That would be a miracle, for someone that's into children and who doesn't want to give up the Evil that is their 'magic' weapon for fucking children.
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Originally Posted by Apes of Wrath
Exorcism? You being serious Scuter you went through that shit? I've never believed any of that stuff tbh. I can't see anyone not watching a videotaped exorcism and not bursting into tears at the absurdity of it but that's catholics for you..
I was exorcised because I was sane. If you mean, did I - go through - the idiocy of staged events held by those I would DESTROY in Bible exchanges, then yes. I went - through - maybe 40-60. They involved me sitting here, or lying down, smirking at the moronic terrified cult low level leader who had just has his life's 'work' / 'dream' / 'hopes' ripped out from under his feet in a public setting by a child. They would call out demonic names and assert that they could feel the demons coming out of me. I would yawn, or look around, fall asleep or watch the woman who believed she was my mother, babble like an imbecile.
Jesus ALWAYS won, of course.
And the next day, Jesus had GOTTEN HIS FACE OWNED again because I had no 'demons' inside of me. They're called QUESTIONS. Questions that a pedophile cannot answer because that is what this Book is used for, exclusively.
Why don't you just become a priest? Or a minister if you're into "WOMEN CHILDREN".
I just hope Ape takes Scooters posts in the genocidal spirit that they were intended.
I have spent years living and surviving amongst the worst of the worst Cob, for example when you survive 8-9 months living literally on the living room floor of a crack and meth dealers flop house (try waking up on your 18th birthday and to your surprise your parents are not smiling or handing you a card but rather GRABBING YOUR DRESSER DRAWERS AND EMPTYING THEM OUT ON THE LAWN- oh fun times fun times) as I have, you learn a few important survival skills, one of which is discernment. Every person around you is either friend or foe but in truth, none of them were my friends, some were more open about it because ironically they were the more honest ones. Being stabbed in the back by someone you thought was your friend, now that's a very special kind of feeling right there. You don't forget it, ever, and you grow up quick believe me.
I will say being able to calmly nuke a cup of ramen noodles you just stole to live in a microwave encrusted with the remains of maggots some crackhead thought was too much a pain to clean out so he just cooked them into a hard crust, that's probably not applicable here, but it's a memory just the same from the time period. I was actually one of the first 15 employees of netflix, in fact 1998-1999 were some of the crazeist years I have lived through. Wait- I had a point, which I think is that I can read people fairly well, and I have a keen read of my gut. Remember, I was the lunatic who bet $220 I didn't have that both the NIners would beat the Saints and that the Giants would upset the Packers, NO ONE I KNEW thought I had a screaming chance in hell, but I had to prove a point- my gut is never wrong, and I had to "put up or shut up" so I cleared out my savings accunt (don't laugh) and fucking did exactly that.
My gut says Scuter is a good dude, and that he's important (idk why) so I don't have a problem taking things in stride. Differing opinions are what they are, without them we'd have fucking nothing to talk about if you think about it. I am thin skinned when it comes to certain things, or rather certain people, normally it's a trust thing and I am almost never wrong. Take that fwiw.
Scuter I'll get to your post, but for the moment, I will say I did read the copy and pastes looking for your comments. I didn't think I saw very many and after a while began skimming more or less disheartened that I wasn't worth your time to actually type things out. I hate feeling like I'm not worth a damn to someone, my bad, I'll give it a second look.
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follow me on twitter @SweetBabyGrapes
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Originally Posted by Mista Cobalina
Nat Sherman's are better than Dunhill's in every conceivable way
Quoted for Scooter. Give Nat's a try, just two packs, and I swear the next Dunhill you light up you will reflexively spit onto the ground. I literally did exactly that, as I walked back into my local head shop and exchanged the disgusting things for another pack of my beloved Nat Naturals.
__________________
follow me on twitter @SweetBabyGrapes
Quote:
Originally Posted by Mista Cobalina
Nat Sherman's are better than Dunhill's in every conceivable way
Quoted for Scooter. Give Nat's a try, just two packs, and I swear the next Dunhill you light up you will reflexively spit onto the ground. I literally did exactly that, as I walked back into my local head shop and exchanged the disgusting things for another pack of my beloved Nat Naturals.
really ape your being just terribly insensitive toward scooter, i'm pretty sure that kid had to participate in grueling farm labor and ritualized incestuous abuse for his entire childhood and adolescence and would have had to win the ceremonial sunday morning pit fight just to get his hands on a cup of maggot noodles so he doesnt give a fuck what you were doing when you were 18 and just needed to get off the fucking crack and get a job
Sigga please, part 2 comes when the cinn challenge vid is posted
Confirmed. Well I can't speak for "part 2" per se, but the cinn challenge has been confirmed. Whether or not Landon Mark makes a HOF cameo at the same time remains to be seen. If he can remember what testosterone feels like he agrees, so far his estrogen seems too high. We'll see, maybe this weekend.
SK WHAT UP DAWG
YOU HELLA DISSED MY BURRITO JUDGING SKILLS, I THREW A BONE OUT THERE TO GET SOME FOOD CHALLENGES IN THE WORKS BUT YOU VANISHED WHADDUP?
ITS AMAZING WHAT PUSHING TWO THOUSAND POUNDS OF DETROIT DEADWEIGHT UP A DRIVEWAY IN SWELTERING HEAT WILL DO TO A MANS SELF CONFIDENCE
I SHOULD BOTTLE THIS SOMEHOW- GET BACK TO THAT
__________________
follow me on twitter @SweetBabyGrapes
Quote:
Originally Posted by Mista Cobalina
Nat Sherman's are better than Dunhill's in every conceivable way
Quoted for Scooter. Give Nat's a try, just two packs, and I swear the next Dunhill you light up you will reflexively spit onto the ground. I literally did exactly that, as I walked back into my local head shop and exchanged the disgusting things for another pack of my beloved Nat Naturals.
really ape your being just terribly insensitive toward scooter, i'm pretty sure that kid had to participate in grueling farm labor and ritualized incestuous abuse for his entire childhood and adolescence and would have had to win the ceremonial sunday morning pit fight just to get his hands on a cup of maggot noodles so he doesnt give a fuck what you were doing when you were 18 and just needed to get off the fucking crack and get a job
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Originally Posted by Bobby Wong
really ape your being just terribly insensitive toward scooter, i'm pretty sure that kid had to participate in grueling farm labor and ritualized incestuous abuse for his entire childhood and adolescence and would have had to win the ceremonial sunday morning pit fight just to get his hands on a cup of maggot noodles so he doesnt give a fuck what you were doing when you were 18 and just needed to get off the fucking crack and get a job
ROFL you have a few things wrong. I never did any hard drugs till I was 23, at 18 I was wet as hell behind the ears. Maybe got drunk 4-5 times total. I was a bodybuilder most of my life remember, I believed in it heart and soul for a loooong time and didn't smoke drink or do drugs, and didn't try any hormones till I was 22.
I also never judged or criticized Scuters background, I was drawing a connection between a skill set I acquired because of unique life circumstances. My bad if it doesn't make sense, for right now it does to me, at least. What I was getting at is that I have a good sense for peoples true nature and intentions that I would not have had I not suffered in the process.
Case in point- one of the guys I lived with was this black guy named Leroy. He had to be the single most full of shit human being on the planet. In fact, about the time I met him he takes off one night to get his girlfriend from out of town and when he comes back I hang out outside and ask him where he went, out of the blue he suddenly claims he just got back from delivering a few keys of coke and is waiting on 15k to get wired to his checking account. I actually kind of believed him, I should clarify- I was still naive to that point where you know a person is bad and that they're lyng but there's STILL just a chance they might not be, so it's wrong to cast judgement, in case they're innocent. Yeah, and meanwhile back on earth, scumbags don't just seem like they're shit, they are shit, and most are pretty bad liars.
SO Leroy, this piece of shit, he spends the first month being cool and nice to everyone, and is one of the 4 other guys sharing the living room with me. Anyway Leroy had a pretty brilliant (for his kind anyway) kind of scam going and sadly I played patsy to without knowing what the fuck was going on. Leroy always seemed to have good weed so i was told, and if you asked him what he paid (everyone assumed it was expensive) he'd say flat out $350 an ounce. This invariably led to jaw dropping and "no way!" followed by "you can get it for 350 when? right now?" "Dog my homey grows under his ladies house, it' all there waitin foh me I can get it right now right this minute, just drive me over there and we good."
Well first I didn't notice back then but not once did he ever pitch this great hook to anyone that wasn't white. He just seemed, to me, to like hanging out with skater/stoner types. I thought it was just the zany whacky nineties you know, progressive and what not.
No, I was wrong, leroy hated white people, but he did love our money and trusting nature. One day a couple friends of mine from modesto were hanging out with me and asking if I could score weed, and of course I realized holy shit, my friends are about to get HOOKED UP. Called leroy, he gets to the house with a sample (he was actually a very well prepared con man, always had samples and every fictitious detail hard coded into his memory so he never fumbled or contradicted himself) and my friends bust out a bong, hit a bowl or two and are impressed. Then he tells them the price and i've never seen wallets fly so fast. Three ounces total, lets make it happen.
Leroy calls his dude and says give dude 45 minutes and come through. My buddy gets paranoid about driving around with so much pot on them, and leroy drops what I learned over time was the "clue" I now always look for, the hole in a liars story that gives them away. He tells us his guy actually lives just two miles down the way, and not to worry, we'll all be in a group, no one's just handing him the money and waiting for him to come back or anything. I still remember standing there and he says two miles, and I jog back mentally to a few months prior, when he told me the bullshit story (obvious at that point) about moving the coke, the next day I had overheard some of his friends talking about his trip to get his girlfriend and they had stopped to pick up bud from a friend of his, supposedly chronic and dirt cheap BUT WORTH THE FOUR HOUR DRIVE. Again I was naive and still a kid, I should have said something and would today but at the time, i wasn't confident enough to question his story. I knew in the pit of my stomach though, two miles away seems awful convenient for the timing, and on top of that, there is good evidence the guy really lives 4 hours away, but what should I do, I had no idea.
We all pile into my buddys vw rabbit and drive over and I'm sweatin, something isn't right, I knew it, but my logical brain says "ok, he might be up to something, first he isn't going to beat up three guys so safe there, he's not going anywhere with their money without us being there, how can this go wrong? Plus he's been lving at Juans for two months, his stuff is there, the weed is making you paranoid, that's gotta be it, just chill out."
So Leroy points out a nice pretty big house and says just stop or pull over to the curb, didn't matter which, dude was waiting pot in hand so parking was prob a waste of time. My buddys all feel safe/secure so they hand over the cash in an envelope, he says my buddy in the eye and says "I'll be right back, don't go nowhere cuz I mean that, if i have to walk back home i'm smokin half yo shit" and gets out, walks to the side gate and opens it, and closes it behind him.
And that was literally the last time (thankfullly) I or anyone I knew ever saw the guy. We waited for 10 minutes, got annoyed and parked and waited another 20 minutes and went pounding on the door. Some elderly asian couple actually lived there, wait- no, what the hell? His buddy couldn't have been asian...I take it upon myself to do a quick search and I still remember that otherworldly feeling as I approached the gate, still 18, still naive, so that meant Leroy was going to be on the other side of that gate, he had to be, I wanted him to be very badly. I open the gate, and there is literally nothing but brownish orange soil all over the place, no signs of a grow operation, there was- just a normal back yard. Pretty much took my legs out from under me, I hit the ground and just dizzily stared at the sky for a while, knowing I had to break the news to my friends that I essentially got them jacked. We were all kids so that amount of money, it was astronomical at the time, irreplaceable. We drove around for better than 4 hours trying to find the piece of shit, but he was just gone, even left what crap he had at the house there and never came back for it.
A friend of his told me a few years later (shortly before committing suicide on valentines day in 2002) that Leroy being his friend and all, he wanted to tell me but couldn't not to trust the guy. "Leroy basically bounces around wherever he could you know, finds a place to stay and hates workin so its the same scam over and over again. Always has good weed to sucker you in, and a great story that almost everyone buys into, he changes things here and there but realyl, getting your cash in his hand is the mission and once that happens, he jumps fences." WAIT- WHAT? "He what?" "That nigga jumps fences, he's fat don't let that fool you, he limps a little too, when suckers around. But that nigga right there, he got yo friends cash i hand prob said something sincere and when he closed that gate so you couldnt see, that nigga ran and hopped fences and was gone just like that."
He jumps fences, story of my life right there. The guy talking to me his name was Ken, tall black dude, nice guy. The night he was telling me this he was the volunteer driver for a beer run and while 4 guys were making their way out of pack n save with cases of beer in each hand Ken was telling me about what happened to my friends cash. He told me he felt terrible and always wanted to say something, but loyalty being what it is and all...
This was the weekend prior to vtines day, and he was acting funny, distant, emotional. He said something to the effect of "I like you, you've got a good heart but you've got no street smarts, wise up, people aren't as good as you want them to be." He probably noticed that at the time I was really getting down about getting burned left and right, and no one that knew better really stepped in to essentially confirm what I didn't want to believe but my gut had been screaming for years-"YES that's odd, he probably IS a piece of shit, don't get burned and learn some idiot lesson, walk the fuck away now asap." I learn things the hard way I guess.
Ken was a really nice guy, turned out he was actually an undercover narcotics agent and at some point became conflicted between the loyalties to friends he made working cases and his career. On valentines day he sat in his expedition and called his wife crying, said he was "so sorry" and hung up, shot himself under the chin. Never left a note, no one ever came forward with a story, he never said anything, kept it all bottled up inside. Thirty seven is too young to die, and it's a real tragedy Ken took his life that young.
Shooting yourself up through your chin, that's a hostile way to go i think, at least with a gun to your temple you seem still very much a conflicted victim, probably weeping and swaying a bit before squeezing the trigger. I think there is some vulnerability in the act itself, but shooting up through your jaw like he did, you have to tense your whole body essentially and hold the gun in place, it's just more self loathing in my opinion.
I hardly cry being a man and all, but when i heard about Ken I shed more than a few. That night while everyone was doing the beer run of course I was supposed to go too, but I hesitated for a split second, Ken saw and grabbed my shoulder and he says to me "You don't have to go, you know that right?" And I was shocked, I hadn't even considered that option. I told him I thought I had to or no one would respect me, especially having driven with everyone to the store, he laughed and tells me "J, it's because you can say no NOW after having come all the way out here that they will REALLY respect you. Watch. You don't want to do it, because you a good person, I can see that, don't let anyone take that away from you. Prisons aren't full of bad people, they're mostly full of good people who were led astray. Be who you are kid, people respect you when you respect you first and you can be good and still be respected. Don't listen to the bullshit, stealing beer doesn't make you more respectable, admitting you are who you are and not changing to make other people happy THAT'S what gets you respect."
He was right too, last words I ever heard that good man speak. God Bless you Ken
__________________
follow me on twitter @SweetBabyGrapes
Quote:
Originally Posted by Mista Cobalina
Nat Sherman's are better than Dunhill's in every conceivable way
Quoted for Scooter. Give Nat's a try, just two packs, and I swear the next Dunhill you light up you will reflexively spit onto the ground. I literally did exactly that, as I walked back into my local head shop and exchanged the disgusting things for another pack of my beloved Nat Naturals.
Mike what is it with your misguided sense of entitlement, the situation you grandiose above of your hard times on struggle street are due to drug addition and the many poor decisions you made.
I mean most drug addicts with an IQ above 60 can at least hit the corner and slang to feed the addiction or do petty crime. You instead lay on the floor and microwaved maggots.
If you could pass the psych exam you should have joined the military, plenty of fitness there free meals and fringe benefits, such as hot sweaty cock action in the dorms.
It is not pleasent to hear that you had a rough patch but stop looking for higher meanings in the mundane.
Your life as you tell it at this point is someone born into relative priviledge (as in america, food, education, shelter for the most part till you fucked that up) compared to Scooter who was basically born into horrifying circumstances of a religous cult who had to overcome attempted brainwashing and battling daily against the odds made it out pretty much 100% down to his hard work and determination.
When he says he had to go throught 40-60 exorcisms, can you imagine day after day not giving in and just agreeing to the perssure tactics against your family and other adults as a child.
If the paw was on the other foot Mike, as soon as the leader would dangle a shiny pocket watch you would change your view 180 degrees.
Finish your college Mike work hard get a job, stop pushing around your broken down car and ffs man you really need to get off the drugs, your babbling is out of control.
I wouldnt normally address this but you really are a candidate for self harm and perhaps you shouldnt be posting on forums particularly the ivey leagues of skatz.
Stick to bodybuilding.com or get help this is not good for you.
If I came across like I was attacking Scuter please fogive me but that was never my intention nor what I was hoping to accomplish. Don't mis-judge me for some simple minded delusional drug addict boss, if that's what you take me for you are way off base.
I like you and realize you're mostly defending your friend so I'm just leaving things at that. I remembered Scooter from having posted on Tyde a few times and he was a standout talent, i never forgot him. Saw the sky nigger post on Apple one day totally at random hunting around for gaysex posts (still one of my favorite posters from any site) and realized who it was and reading the last few posts in the thread hoped I might say something he'd find useful/interesting and if not, at the very least I would definitely learn something (several things actually)
After that I loved the place, I can't name two posters I don't like and in fact most of my top 10 all post here. I have a thing about lurking forums- I never do it. if I like the place I post if I don't post I don't even bother browsing. Seemed like people were cool with me, so I went with it.
Wherever you are coming from about my being full of myself and what not, I hope you aren't being serious...I am one of the humblest human beings you could ever meet and you'd get the shirt off my back food out of my mouth and shoes off my feet without hesitation so pleaese give a second thought to some of the shitty things you said to me just now. If that's really how you feel bro you're entitled to your own opinions and life goes on.
__________________
follow me on twitter @SweetBabyGrapes
Quote:
Originally Posted by Mista Cobalina
Nat Sherman's are better than Dunhill's in every conceivable way
Quoted for Scooter. Give Nat's a try, just two packs, and I swear the next Dunhill you light up you will reflexively spit onto the ground. I literally did exactly that, as I walked back into my local head shop and exchanged the disgusting things for another pack of my beloved Nat Naturals.
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