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MICHAEL SIMMS: PORTRAIT OF A PSYCHOPATH "Mickey and Mallory know the difference between right and wrong. They just don't give a damn." - Steven Wright, Natural Born Killers.
Michael Simms. Champion of the outcast teen. What has made him so sympathetic to the cause of the columbine killers? Why has this event seemingly resonated so deeply within him? Is Michael just sympathetic to the life of the modern teen? Or is there something more? Something insidious?
These are the questions I've been asking myself as I've read Simms's obsessive columbine writings. These were the questions I was asking myself as I sat mesmerized by my Natalie Portman poster. Like a torrent of sudden rain, my spirit guides bombarded me with the heinous images of Michael's life. I was so disturbed I could barely bring myself to write this.
Michael was born and raised in a small, southwestern town. His father, Carlito, was a Mexican immigrant who worked for the department of transportation, building highways. His mother, Juno, was a gypsy who earned money by performing card readings. The family made a comfortable living and Michael was a happy, outgoing child, who even contributed to the family income by cleaning dog excrement from the neighborhood sidewalks.
Carlito was a hard-worker. In fact, he worked too hard. One particularly hot, sunny day, he was overcome with heat exhaustion. The incident had changed Carlito forever. The charming, jovial, caring Carlito became a vile, egomaniacal, misogynist. Carlito soon lost his job and spent the rest of his days lounging around the house.
The first incident of abuse happened when Michael was but 6 years old. Juno had lured a Siamese cat into the house. She let the cat roam around until it was time for her to prepare it for the family's dinner. Michael had just come home from a long day of sidewalk cleaning. Carlito was lying on the couch with a 40 ounce Schlitz. The putrid stench of dog manure flooded the house as Michael closed the door. Carlito was roused from his wrestling match. Infuriated, he jumped off the couch, grabbing Juno's cat by the tail. Carlito stormed over to Michael, who had backed himself into a corner. Michael could do nothing but cry as Carlito severely beat him with the screeching cat.
The more Michael cried, the more Carlito beat him. After fifteen minutes of abuse, Carlito plunged his hand into the stomach of the dead animal and gutted it right there in front of Michael. He ate the entrails and forced his stunned son to wear the pelt as a hat for the rest of the week.
The beatings continued for a few more years, at a lesser severity until just after Michael's 10th birthday. Michael invited his friend Ron over to spend the night. Carlito would usually hide in the bedroom whenever anyone visited, so it was always a good way for Michael to escape the beatings. The boys had had fun roaming the neighborhood that evening, making castles with the dog excrement they found and then pretending to be giant monsters, from a Japanese science fiction movie, going on a rampage and smashing the castles. The boys played hard that night and went to bed early.
But the boys could not sleep. Instead, they decided to play doctor and various other games. The laughter awakened Carlito. He stormed into the bedroom and flipped on the light. There, he beheld his son on all fours with his little friend mounting him from behind. The boys were playing "dog." Carlito lost control. He threw Ron out of the house, sending him walking home and picked Michael up by the feet.
Carlito stormed outside, carrying his naked son by the feet. He rampaged throughout the neighborhood stopping any time he ran across a dog. Carlito would beat hapless animal to death, using his son as a club. Once again, he would plunge his hand into the dead animal, remove its organs and devour them. He then collected the pelt.
After Carlito had slaughtered twenty dogs, he tied together all of the pelts into a make-shift body-suit for Michael. Exhauste
Re:so then the doctor says
on
Open Node In A Bag
·
· Score: -1, Offtopic
osm writes:
The Final RMS Solution
RMS is a plague upon the linux-using community. his ancient ideals have proved dangerous to our cause. Yet, RMS ignores our pleas to quietly step aside and let a more palatable individual take up the cause.
Only the harshest of measures will be successful in relieving us of this hemorrhoidal tissue, better known as Richard M. Stallman. Here is my plan, which I will tentatively title "Preparation-H."
RMS is well known for his liberal/communist leanings. We will first convince him that his presence is requested at the Kyrgyz-Russian Slavic University to discuss how Free Principles may save the wretched Russian economy. RMS will accept this invitation like a horny Slashdotter invited to Natalie Portman's birthday party.
Of course, RMS will NEVER make it to the university. We will arrange a limosine to take him to the airport, a luxury even his fat, liberal ass couldn't pass up. The limosine will be "hijacked" (but not really, since the limosine was paid for by us anyway). We will extract RMS' white, quivering flesh from the back seat, throw it in a black trash bag and haul it to Alaska.
We will convince RMS that we are environmental activists and we have come to Alaska to save the whales. RMS will see a better publicity opportunity in doing this and gladly forget about the University lecture. With our promises of sexual favors and FREE money, RMS will agree to do whatever we ask of him.
We make RMS disrobe. We must wear protective aparatii for this process. Once RMS is naked, we will beat him over the head with a seal-club and carve the fat off of his sweating carcass.
We will take the raw RMS fat and distribute it to poor Eskimos to use as lamp-oil, thus "saving the whales" as we promised.
Once RMS is out of the way, we can adopt a NEW leader! A leader more palatable to the public! A leader that will put a pretty face on our cause! A leader that EVERY Slashdotter can look up to!
MICHAEL SIMMS: PORTRAIT OF A PSYCHOPATH "Mickey and Mallory know the difference between right and wrong. They just don't give a damn." - Steven Wright, Natural Born Killers.
Michael Simms. Champion of the outcast teen. What has made him so sympathetic to the cause of the columbine killers? Why has this event seemingly resonated so deeply within him? Is Michael just sympathetic to the life of the modern teen? Or is there something more? Something insidious?
These are the questions I've been asking myself as I've read Simms's obsessive columbine writings. These were the questions I was asking myself as I sat mesmerized by my Natalie Portman poster. Like a torrent of sudden rain, my spirit guides bombarded me with the heinous images of Michael's life. I was so disturbed I could barely bring myself to write this.
Michael was born and raised in a small, southwestern town. His father, Carlito, was a Mexican immigrant who worked for the department of transportation, building highways. His mother, Juno, was a gypsy who earned money by performing card readings. The family made a comfortable living and Michael was a happy, outgoing child, who even contributed to the family income by cleaning dog excrement from the neighborhood sidewalks.
Carlito was a hard-worker. In fact, he worked too hard. One particularly hot, sunny day, he was overcome with heat exhaustion. The incident had changed Carlito forever. The charming, jovial, caring Carlito became a vile, egomaniacal, misogynist. Carlito soon lost his job and spent the rest of his days lounging around the house. The first incident of abuse happened when Michael was but 6 years old. Juno had lured a Siamese cat into the house. She let the cat roam around until it was time for her to prepare it for the family's dinner. Michael had just come home from a long day of sidewalk cleaning. Carlito was lying on the couch with a 40 ounce Schlitz. The putrid stench of dog manure flooded the house as Michael closed the door. Carlito was roused from his wrestling match. Infuriated, he jumped off the couch, grabbing Juno's cat by the tail. Carlito stormed over to Michael, who had backed himself into a corner. Michael could do nothing but cry as Carlito severely beat him with the screeching cat.
The more Michael cried, the more Carlito beat him. After fifteen minutes of abuse, Carlito plunged his hand into the stomach of the dead animal and gutted it right there in front of Michael. He ate the entrails and forced his stunned son to wear the pelt as a hat for the rest of the week.
The beatings continued for a few more years, at a lesser severity until just after Michael's 10th birthday. Michael invited his friend Ron over to spend the night. Carlito would usually hide in the bedroom whenever anyone visited, so it was always a good way for Michael to escape the beatings. The boys had had fun roaming the neighborhood that evening, making castles with the dog excrement they found and then pretending to be giant monsters, from a Japanese science fiction movie, going on a rampage and smashing the castles. The boys played hard that night and went to bed early.
But the boys could not sleep. Instead, they decided to play doctor and various other games. The laughter awakened Carlito. He stormed into the bedroom and flipped on the light. There, he beheld his son on all fours with his little friend mounting him from behind. The boys were playing "dog." Carlito lost control. He threw Ron out of the house, sending him walking home and picked Michael up by the feet.
Carlito stormed outside, carrying his naked son by the feet. He rampaged throughout the neighborhood stopping any time he ran across a dog. Carlito would beat hapless animal to death, using his son as a club. Once again, he would plunge his hand into the dead animal, remove its organs and devour them. He then collected the pelt.
After Carlito had slaughtered twenty dogs, he tied together all of the pelts into a make-shift body-suit for Michael. Exhausted, and with Michael b
If I ever met you, I would tie you down, shit on your face, fuck your asshole until it bled, and then I would burn your body and jerk off on the ashes.
Slashdot Mirror
stalinism
YESSS DALLAS WINS, GO MAVERICS!!!
Please try to keep posts on topic.
Try to reply to other people's comments instead of starting new threads.
Read other people's messages before posting your own to avoid simply duplicating what has already been said.
Use a clear subject that describes what your message is about.
Offtopic, Inflammatory, Inappropriate, Illegal, or Offensive comments might be moderated. (You can read everything, even moderated posts, by adjusting your threshold on the User Preferences Page)
Ethnic Cleansing is a pretty good game, and I'd say it had a good effect on my life.
MICHAEL SIMMS: PORTRAIT OF A PSYCHOPATH
"Mickey and Mallory know the difference between right and wrong. They just don't give a damn." - Steven Wright, Natural Born Killers.
Michael Simms. Champion of the outcast teen. What has made him so sympathetic to the cause of the columbine killers? Why has this event seemingly resonated so deeply within him? Is Michael just sympathetic to the life of the modern teen? Or is there something more? Something insidious?
These are the questions I've been asking myself as I've read Simms's obsessive columbine writings. These were the questions I was asking myself as I sat mesmerized by my Natalie Portman poster. Like a torrent of sudden rain, my spirit guides bombarded me with the heinous images of Michael's life. I was so disturbed I could barely bring myself to write this.
Michael was born and raised in a small, southwestern town. His father, Carlito, was a Mexican immigrant who worked for the department of transportation, building highways. His mother, Juno, was a gypsy who earned money by performing card readings. The family made a comfortable living and Michael was a happy, outgoing child, who even contributed to the family income by cleaning dog excrement from the neighborhood sidewalks.
Carlito was a hard-worker. In fact, he worked too hard. One particularly hot, sunny day, he was overcome with heat exhaustion. The incident had changed Carlito forever. The charming, jovial, caring Carlito became a vile, egomaniacal, misogynist. Carlito soon lost his job and spent the rest of his days lounging around the house.
The first incident of abuse happened when Michael was but 6 years old. Juno had lured a Siamese cat into the house. She let the cat roam around until it was time for her to prepare it for the family's dinner. Michael had just come home from a long day of sidewalk cleaning. Carlito was lying on the couch with a 40 ounce Schlitz. The putrid stench of dog manure flooded the house as Michael closed the door. Carlito was roused from his wrestling match. Infuriated, he jumped off the couch, grabbing Juno's cat by the tail. Carlito stormed over to Michael, who had backed himself into a corner. Michael could do nothing but cry as Carlito severely beat him with the screeching cat.
The more Michael cried, the more Carlito beat him. After fifteen minutes of abuse, Carlito plunged his hand into the stomach of the dead animal and gutted it right there in front of Michael. He ate the entrails and forced his stunned son to wear the pelt as a hat for the rest of the week.
The beatings continued for a few more years, at a lesser severity until just after Michael's 10th birthday. Michael invited his friend Ron over to spend the night. Carlito would usually hide in the bedroom whenever anyone visited, so it was always a good way for Michael to escape the beatings. The boys had had fun roaming the neighborhood that evening, making castles with the dog excrement they found and then pretending to be giant monsters, from a Japanese science fiction movie, going on a rampage and smashing the castles. The boys played hard that night and went to bed early.
But the boys could not sleep. Instead, they decided to play doctor and various other games. The laughter awakened Carlito. He stormed into the bedroom and flipped on the light. There, he beheld his son on all fours with his little friend mounting him from behind. The boys were playing "dog." Carlito lost control. He threw Ron out of the house, sending him walking home and picked Michael up by the feet.
Carlito stormed outside, carrying his naked son by the feet. He rampaged throughout the neighborhood stopping any time he ran across a dog. Carlito would beat hapless animal to death, using his son as a club. Once again, he would plunge his hand into the dead animal, remove its organs and devour them. He then collected the pelt.
After Carlito had slaughtered twenty dogs, he tied together all of the pelts into a make-shift body-suit for Michael. Exhauste
Hey clown, that wasn't a troll... I don't have the check-boxes for "Post Anonymously" or "No Karma Bonus" (not that I'd need the latter)
osm writes:
The Final RMS Solution
RMS is a plague upon the linux-using community. his ancient ideals have proved dangerous to our cause. Yet, RMS ignores our pleas to quietly step aside and let a more palatable individual take up the cause.
Only the harshest of measures will be successful in relieving us of this hemorrhoidal tissue, better known as Richard M. Stallman. Here is my plan, which I will tentatively title "Preparation-H."
RMS is well known for his liberal/communist leanings. We will first convince him that his presence is requested at the Kyrgyz-Russian Slavic University to discuss how Free Principles may save the wretched Russian economy. RMS will accept this invitation like a horny Slashdotter invited to Natalie Portman's birthday party.
Of course, RMS will NEVER make it to the university. We will arrange a limosine to take him to the airport, a luxury even his fat, liberal ass couldn't pass up. The limosine will be "hijacked" (but not really, since the limosine was paid for by us anyway). We will extract RMS' white, quivering flesh from the back seat, throw it in a black trash bag and haul it to Alaska.
We will convince RMS that we are environmental activists and we have come to Alaska to save the whales. RMS will see a better publicity opportunity in doing this and gladly forget about the University lecture. With our promises of sexual favors and FREE money, RMS will agree to do whatever we ask of him.
We make RMS disrobe. We must wear protective aparatii for this process. Once RMS is naked, we will beat him over the head with a seal-club and carve the fat off of his sweating carcass.
We will take the raw RMS fat and distribute it to poor Eskimos to use as lamp-oil, thus "saving the whales" as we promised.
Once RMS is out of the way, we can adopt a NEW leader! A leader more palatable to the public! A leader that will put a pretty face on our cause! A leader that EVERY Slashdotter can look up to!
Who is this leader? Natalie Portman, of course.
thank you.
MICHAEL SIMMS: PORTRAIT OF A PSYCHOPATH
"Mickey and Mallory know the difference between right and wrong. They just don't give a damn." - Steven Wright, Natural Born Killers.
Michael Simms. Champion of the outcast teen. What has made him so sympathetic to the cause of the columbine killers? Why has this event seemingly resonated so deeply within him? Is Michael just sympathetic to the life of the modern teen? Or is there something more? Something insidious?
These are the questions I've been asking myself as I've read Simms's obsessive columbine writings. These were the questions I was asking myself as I sat mesmerized by my Natalie Portman poster. Like a torrent of sudden rain, my spirit guides bombarded me with the heinous images of Michael's life. I was so disturbed I could barely bring myself to write this.
Michael was born and raised in a small, southwestern town. His father, Carlito, was a Mexican immigrant who worked for the department of transportation, building highways. His mother, Juno, was a gypsy who earned money by performing card readings. The family made a comfortable living and Michael was a happy, outgoing child, who even contributed to the family income by cleaning dog excrement from the neighborhood sidewalks.
Carlito was a hard-worker. In fact, he worked too hard. One particularly hot, sunny day, he was overcome with heat exhaustion. The incident had changed Carlito forever. The charming, jovial, caring Carlito became a vile, egomaniacal, misogynist. Carlito soon lost his job and spent the rest of his days lounging around the house.
The first incident of abuse happened when Michael was but 6 years old. Juno had lured a Siamese cat into the house. She let the cat roam around until it was time for her to prepare it for the family's dinner. Michael had just come home from a long day of sidewalk cleaning. Carlito was lying on the couch with a 40 ounce Schlitz. The putrid stench of dog manure flooded the house as Michael closed the door. Carlito was roused from his wrestling match. Infuriated, he jumped off the couch, grabbing Juno's cat by the tail. Carlito stormed over to Michael, who had backed himself into a corner. Michael could do nothing but cry as Carlito severely beat him with the screeching cat.
The more Michael cried, the more Carlito beat him. After fifteen minutes of abuse, Carlito plunged his hand into the stomach of the dead animal and gutted it right there in front of Michael. He ate the entrails and forced his stunned son to wear the pelt as a hat for the rest of the week.
The beatings continued for a few more years, at a lesser severity until just after Michael's 10th birthday. Michael invited his friend Ron over to spend the night. Carlito would usually hide in the bedroom whenever anyone visited, so it was always a good way for Michael to escape the beatings. The boys had had fun roaming the neighborhood that evening, making castles with the dog excrement they found and then pretending to be giant monsters, from a Japanese science fiction movie, going on a rampage and smashing the castles. The boys played hard that night and went to bed early.
But the boys could not sleep. Instead, they decided to play doctor and various other games. The laughter awakened Carlito. He stormed into the bedroom and flipped on the light. There, he beheld his son on all fours with his little friend mounting him from behind. The boys were playing "dog." Carlito lost control. He threw Ron out of the house, sending him walking home and picked Michael up by the feet.
Carlito stormed outside, carrying his naked son by the feet. He rampaged throughout the neighborhood stopping any time he ran across a dog. Carlito would beat hapless animal to death, using his son as a club. Once again, he would plunge his hand into the dead animal, remove its organs and devour them. He then collected the pelt.
After Carlito had slaughtered twenty dogs, he tied together all of the pelts into a make-shift body-suit for Michael. Exhausted, and with Michael b
Hey faggot, don't reply to your own posts... It lets people know how gay you are.
If I ever met you, I would tie you down, shit on your face, fuck your asshole until it bled, and then I would burn your body and jerk off on the ashes.
I always knew Linux was nothing more than a childs plaything.