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- Pennyworth, in The Dark Knight Sounds great! But let me first introduce myself. My name is Fake Bert, and I have a problem. Actually no. Not really. But since "Real" Bert continually moans like some teenaged angst-ridden emogoth wannabe and writes disgustingly vapid and hopeless posts like this (oh my f**king gawd) and this, I thought that I should at least humour my wimpy alter ego a teeny bit by crashing with him, but suck this, it seriously cramps my style. "So f**k him and f**k you too!" Damn, always liked that line from Eminem. But back to myself, which is after all rightly the most important thing there is to write about. So like, that useless bum was coming blubbering to Big Daddy here, and he was like, man, completely hamsterf**ked up. He wasn't thinking straight, man. I couldn't take his nambypampy whining about waiting for whoever or whatever s**t he is waiting for and about his dumb FYP problems, and started smacking him in the face, only it hurt after awhile so I stopped. Like, you know, get a f**king grip. If I were him I would just shake my butt around for the next half year and remember to turn up for the exams - or don't, he'd probably pass anyway - and oh, stick about for the fancy ceremony where they hand him his little degree and shove him off the stage. Whatever. "You know what's your problem?" I told him. "You give a s**t. Of all the bazillion dumb things in this world that you could have done, you went and gave a s**t." I mean, I'm not perfect. A witty, intelligent, asswhooping all-around great guy, but nowhere near perfect, and I'm cool with that, you see. And the secret? No biggie. I just don't give a s**t. About mostly everything. And when you really, truly, don't give a s**t, your mind clears, and you feel high, like zen, man. But maybe it's partly down to this fancy multiple personality gig, I think I got all the deserved f**k yous in storage, and he got left with the scraps. F**k f**k f**k f**k f**k f**k f**k f**k f**k f**k f**k f**k f**k f**k f**k f**k f**k f**k f**k f**k f**k f**k f**k f**k f**k f**k f**k f**k f**k f**k See? I swear, one more line of what he calls philosophy or whatever he vomits out to appear smart, yes I know his type, Mr. Eager-to-impress-nice-guy, yes that's you, and I'll take that messed-up head of his and smash it until it works right again. That is if I can dig it out of the ground first. Yes, yes, "Real" Bert (oh, the irony), what the f**k are you after? You want people to like you? You want sympathy? You want to somehow play a part in creating a better world, in your own small, humble, way? Hey, you know what? F**k you. You really care about any of that s**t? Well, I've got to hand it to you, man. I couldn't act like that if you gave me a million dollars. Well, maybe I could, but that's besides the point. I would leave you to wallow in your own s**t, man, but as you're a part of me in a way, I'll give you some good solid advice, pro bono as it were. I can't help it, I'm just too kind. Just don't give a f**king s**t. What you worried about? You worried about other people feeling bad? Man, that's totally a loser proposition to begin with, and I can't even begin to describe how loser loserish it is. You thinking of obligations, of not disappointing other people? Something like that? Well you should be the expert on them, the way I see it you made most of them up anyway. Now, I don't mean being a jerk and kicking candy out of babies, that's totally not cool, but once you recognize that what you're doing is beating yourself topside silly with a baseball bat and nobody really f**king cares, and you do the right thing by yourself, now that's cool. And I don't mean pretending not to give a s**t just to like, project an image for other people so they can see how s**tless you are. That's a whole new level of loserific that plumbs new depths. I mean honestly, from the bottom of your heart, not giving the tiniest bit of a s**t. It grows on you, and after awhile you don't even have to think about it. When you know somebody's wasting your time, be ready with a charming little smile and say "f**k you" and walk away. Now, that's satisfaction. It may not start out easy, but you're not dumb, man, I mean, you're a part of me. You can do it! And oh, now that I'll be sticking around - I gather my guest post was well-received, no? - it's time to insert some life into this blog, man. You think people want to hear about problems and paper theories and pretend betting and all that s**t? Sorry man, f**k you man, the hell no! Now that I'm here, there's gonna be fun. Big time fun. Next: Apologies
C.wenhoo said... does fake bert have a fake bird
Fake Bert said... Update to self: Add C.wenhoo to hit list
pnut said... how come u don't give a shit still so many asterisks in your post. u cheebye agua u as agua as real bert u
Ham G. Bacon said... Thank you for your concern. You will be pleased to hear that our blog was preemptively protected by a filter that renders f**k as f**k. Should you have any further queries or suggestions, please do not hesitate to contact me.
pnut said... eee so lousy pui fuck fuck shit shit
anonymous said... Eh y u fake bert always fake pple? how come pnut post nvr renders the asterices leh
Ham G. Bacon said... We appreciate the continued interest in this matter, and wish to clarify that while blog posts are protected, blog comments are not, due to our trust in the discretion of our readers.
pnut said... eee so lousy pui
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