(UPDATE–My address was redacted, at my brother’s request. He has no idea why I did that or why it’s imporatant. But as he once tried to frighten me out of his house by firing a gun in my general direction, I’m caving. He’s infinitely scarier than Brett Kimberlin.)
You are the poster child for “progressives”.
I’ve blogged anonymously for two years because I cut radical Islam no slack and had young relatives living at the house. Well, they’re not here anymore. Unlike Stacy McCain, I don’t have to protect anyone but my brother. And he’s ten times crazier than me.
So heed the word, Brettster: my name is Marlon McAvoy. Look up the rest yourself; I’m not doing all the work.
Now come and get me.
Even if you do, you pathetic puke, you’re no terrorist. If you kidnapped me and tortured me to death, I’d never be terrified of YOU. Sure, the pain would scare me. I might even die screaming. But through the pain I’d be laughing at the spoiled little punk who can’t think of anything else to do with people. How pitiful is that? You are not a terrorist. You are what masculine terrorists wipe off the bottom of their shoe. You’re the bleating lamb that jihadists bugger for relaxation before blowing themselves up in acts which, while totally evil, are still bad-ass.
In fact, you’re the best argument for cowardly Western decadence that Islam could ever hope for.
You are not a terrorist. You are a little pain-dealing beast that never risks itself. Oooh, such genius! Why hasn’t everyone else thought of that? Oh yeah. They haven’t seared their consciences with a hot iron.
Seriously, Kimberlin, you put the “putz” in “pusillanimous”…and that doesn’t even make sense! But neither do you, except as one of the foul and formless things that escaped Pandora’s Box. You have no more meaning than poison ivy, than rust, than the tinnitus that torments my every waking moment and makes sleep almost impossible.
Yeah. That’s you, Brett. You’re not a terrorist. You’re tinnitus. You’re an endless mindless screech, signifying nothing.
You make Bill Ayers look butch. And these days that bomb-throwing “pig”-hating pissant goes mewling to the cops if someone steps on his lawn. You make that guy look like Charles Durning!
Are you fightin’ mad, Brett? Well, we know your go-to move. So go whine to some real men. Real men, in robes. Go ahead. Tell them I hurt your feelings, that I bruised your self-esteem, that I (sniff) gave you an “owie”. Go ahead…ha ha…”man up”.
God. You’re so pathetic I’m not even enjoying this. It’s like beating up a piñata of a blind kitten, only instead of candy I’ll get showered with lawsuits.
But I guess real men like you fight with nuisance lawfare.
You’re the worst, Brett. The absolute worst. And not “worst” like “most fearsome” or something. More like “the worst excuse for a man that could possibly exist in any universe.” “The worst” as in, “the opposite of the best, in every sense of the word.”
…I am a Christian. I must give you a chance, Brett. Maybe you haven’t murdered your conscience yet. Is your wickedness an attempt to drown out the dying moans of your personal Jiminy Cricket?
Been there. Done that. Failed. Thank God.
So I can tell you, with no little authority: if you actually kill Jiminy there’s nothing left between you and eternal damnation. I can’t say if he’s dead yet, but I guarantee you that little bug is nearly burnt to a crisp by now.
Is your conscience truly gone, Brett? Does any part of you ever know that you’re doing evil. Becoming evil? If your conscience isn’t dead…you could still be great. Reversing Brett Kimberlin’s polarity would make an incredible man indeed. Not one man in a thousand has been worse than me, not one in a million has sunk lower…but you’ve got me beat on all counts. A 180-degree turn makes you a giant of a man.
If your conscience isn’t dead.
If you have murdered it…I’m truly sorry that Brett Kimberlin is gone. But the moral zombie than rampages in his skin can’t be allowed to molest others and spread its disease.
So if you’re still human, Brett…come pray with me. If you are not…well…then let’s get this over with. Mano a monstero, Grendel a Beowulf.
In fact, I insist you come kill me before you ever threaten a family again. Note the “again”, Brett. Here’s what it means:
You’re in the habit of threatening children!
So, your conscience probably is long dead. But swing on by, Kimberlin. If you can’t pray with me, you’re welcome to try and kill me.
Come. And. GET. Me.
Agreed, however I chafe at the mention of poison ivy.
Last month I had several large, solid patches, the biggest of which was the size of both my hands put together (good sized hands too, I’m over 6ft tall for reference). I shudder to think how bad it would have been had I not discovered the wonders of astringents during the blistering phase.
Anyways, good to see Mr. Brett Kimberlin getting the attention he deserves on every site/blog I browse/follow.
Yeah, my allergy to poison ivy is epic also.
My brother is whining a little about this post. My cowardly brother, who’s about to “ride bitch” on the German Science Babe’s Harley, straight to a bikers’ bar.
Ah, your rants are divine. And losing the anonymity as well! Is it okay if I still call you Wormy?
I want to share this around, but I’m actually a little afraid to.
I’m about to bleg the biggies for a link. I didn’t write this in hopes that Brett never sees it. There’s some rough edges in it to edit, but the substance will stay the same.
But by all means, share! Use your in with the Blogfather if you have to.
Ah, well, my link requests are denied more often than approved, including last night re my own Brett post. Such are the whims of the Blogfather. But thanks–I will be sharing this around b/c I think it’ll be greatly enjoyed. Tough guy.
Hey Brett, screw going after Marlon…I’m coming for you, you little bitch.
Thanks for stepping in front of the bullet for me! But I don’t think threatening this guy is the way. If people start doing that, his fantastical lies will start seeming almost plausible.
As is, apparently some of his allies are already distancing themselves.
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I don’t need to threaten him. I could just fly over, off him and be done with it. Heck, I’m pretty sure I could get a Russian or Ukrainian passport, too. You can buy pretty much everything in the East.
And the funny thing is, I’m not even a “conservative”.
Of course he can try and sue me for even suggesting this, but here’s the other funny part: in my country… we don’t care too much about US courts. So sue me Brett, every judge in my country will just laugh. I might even get a medal for it.
Btw… Brett in German means plank, board.
Only a week ago I learned what “gift” means in German. Those sneaky bastards.
Habt einen Berliner mit Gift?
Um…thanks to JFK I recognized some of that, but BabelFish says, “Have a citizen of Berlin with poison.” I know most of that is right, but is it actually the best translation?
Is it…a recipe?
After I thought about it for a second, I should have left off the “?”. And yes, the JFK reference was kind of a hint. It was meant to read as: “Have a jelly donut with poison.”
I also apologize for the rusty german. It probably should have been Hast instead of Habt, and possibly ein or einer instead of einen, but einen sounded right to me.
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Reblogged this on That Mr. G Guy's Blog.
Saw that, thank you! Man, I got exhausted just glancing at the work you’ve been doing over there. The “Friends in Low Places” post is my fave.
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SWEEEET RANT! Kimberlin is a pussy who hide behind a keyboard and threats over the internet and tweet. I personally like to see my enemy’s face when I lay down a threat, er, promise. That maggot comes up to Alaska, he might find himself face-to-face with a grizzly, and not the four-legged version.
Yours may be the funniest Facebook page I’ve ever seen.
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Thank you! But I doubt I’m making myself more of a target than anyone else. You never know what’s going to set these idiots off. Well, you do, but there’s always unexpected triggers too.
Besides, my threat to pray with and for him will probably keep him away.
Very nice, and thanks.
Thank you. I see you’re linking up a storm on Twitter, also very nice. I can’t remember seeing anything quite like this perfect storm before, you?
Yee-haw!!!! Good hunting, sir –
Thank you, Teresa.
That’s an adorable picture on your “Start of Summer” post!
Thanks! Bing “Search” is my friend….. 😛
There was no conscience to lose. He was born without one, and never got one.
Well…maybe. No way to tell if someone is born a monster or just destroys their conscience at a very young age.
And since we’re seeing more and more of this behavior as leftists’ indoctrinate the young, I have to assume the sociopathy is from “nurture”, not nature.
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Just found you by way of Aaron Worthing’s comments section (I think Lin linked you there?). You made me actually laugh out loud. All this support may get me to dust off my own blog…
Good luck and hope you find yourself free from “lawfare” from that loser Kimberlin.
Thank you! As far as I can tell, he and his cronies are going down the list. They’ll get to me sooner or later.
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