Clint
I invented Go-Gurt.

I'm going to say this one last time, and perhaps it won't be harsh enough to get through your thick, prehistoric skull, but you also won't run to staff, getting one over on me the only way you know how.

I DON'T READ ANYTHING YOU SEND ME, RETARD!

My replies have been generic, in response to the fact that this man-child keeps biting at my ankles. You're the dumbest, most stubborn son of a bitch the internet has ever known. Go find an active member who will a actually buy whatever it is you're trying to sell...

I know it's boing as **** around here, but I'm not your friend, understand? People like you make people like me sick to our ****ing stomachs. You represent what's wrong with society. Four thousand years ago, I would be a warrior, and you would be the half-witted cretin; the village idiot as it were, always making a proper ass of yourself whilst trying to earn favour and respect.

You have no one else to VM on a Saturday?

Don't make me feel bad for you, Clint. It's confusing and it makes me feel somehow violated.

You don't listen to anything. That's your first and biggest problem. You also have this dire need to prove yourself to a total stranger, to the point where you keep VMing after I've clearly ignored you and no longer wish to be bothered by your meagre attempts to bicker and somehow discredit my intellect.

You're a weak, shitty person posing as a distinguished and respectable intellectual.

Until you can prove to me you're not hiding, **** off, kid! Bite some one else's ankles!

I want to see a picture of you. I want to know what you do for a living, whether or not you live with your parents, where you got your post-secondary, if at all.

If you're not hiding, you're doing a damn good job of withholding yourself from this community. I'm trained in counter intelligence, I investigate everything, whether of significance or otherwise.


And not that it matters, Dirty Hairy, but I own a small cache of guns that fire live rounds... I fail to see your point, and how air soft pellets would thwart my plans to stalk you, should I have any.


I'm ignoring you now, so any further attempts to communicate will be a wasted effort.

You have no will, that's why you hide behind the identity of a man who embodies everything you wish you were. And I generally wield a C7 (I prefer it to the C8 due to familiarity and comfort), but it depends on the nature of the Op.

I plan on getting down to Wilmington again this summer, actually. The hunting and camping in Delaware is excellent. If you've never eaten at the Eclipse Bistro down on North Union, I highly recommend it.

I've been just about everywhere, you see. After almost dying, I travelled non-stop for 3 years, all over Canada and America. I get down there often now. Next year is Mexico, and Greece in 2017.

Perhaps our paths might cross this August, and we can talk about this as men.

You live in your own little world where you have a magic wand, and when you wave that wand, things people say, facts the universe has presented magically go away, and we all bend to Clint's will.

You were a ****ing idiot then, and you're a ****ing idiot now.

You love playing the oblivious card.

You sure seemed like cohorts 6 months ago when you joined forces to troll me. Let's make something of this fresh start, or agree to ignore each other indefinitely.

Cohort | Define Cohort at Dictionary.com

A companion of sorts.

If you're honestly still playing dumb, I'm sorry for everything I said to you, because evidently it's all true, which actually makes me feel like shit.