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You spent precious HOW air time to complain that this is an HOFC rules match, about how it’s rigged and unfair and blah, blah, blah only to turn right around and celebrate that the location is the USS Octane and that Lee Best is celebrating the military?
What a dumbass.
And, you think the USS Octane scares me? Bitch, it was the fucking site of an HOW PPV that I already wrestled on! Know your fucking history. Lee Best was powerbombed off of it!
As for the challenge I laid down, you just couldn’t do it. It’s too fucking hard for you.
Just like you can’t even EARN a shot for the HOW World Championship, you couldn’t go without fucking talking about the military. It’s a sickness for you, isn’t it? I get it though. It’s okay for you to complain about the masturbation jokes but not okay for me to ask that you don’t talk about the military. Fucking snowflake. Fucking sensitive bitch.
“Waaah! Don’t challenge me to avoid talking about the military!”
You have nothing else that defines you. Strip that away and you got fucking nothing. No accomplishments in HOW worth mentioning. Nothing that cries out Hall of Famer. Underachieving, overrated, punk ass. Strip away a piece of me… hell, strip away all my American-ness and I’ll still be more accomplished than you inside of a wrestling ring. The truth is you’re nothing but a cripple. The military is just something to prop you up because you got nothing else to stand on.
Think about this long and hard.
You think people like you? That they respect you? All because you’re a “real patriot” and served in the military?
Listen to the reaction you get every time you do your Leave It To Stever segments. The fans boo the shit out of you! They know you’re a fake fuck who has amounted to absolutely nothing. You’re not wanted in HOW. You’re not NEEDED in HOW. The moment I came in, people moved on from you. You’ve been replaced by the better performing, better looking model.
You’re right, it IS fitting though that we’ll be fighting under the watchful gaze of Lady Liberty because when you bring your tired and poor ass to the cage, I’m gonna choke you out, leaving you a huddled mass yearning to breathe free.
The only regret I have is that her flame isn’t real, so that after the match, I can have your ass flown to the top and burned alive.
I legitimately tried to follow what the fuck you said, from “leftist” Twitter to something about a latte and it all sounds so desperate, like you’re on fucking fumes already. It might have landed harder had I not already railed at you for needing an inhaler and avocado toast days earlier. You aren’t fighting Elizabeth Warren or whatever imaginary boogeyman you conjured in your mind.
You’re fighting me, dickhead. So start spooning your guns to make yourself feel better.
What you said was the drizzling shits of trash talk. You’d probably be more fucking coherent if your parents weren’t brother and sister. At least knock it down to cousins or something ‘cause DAMN.
But my favorite part is that, through all of that rambling mess, you didn’t deny a fucking bit of what I said.
Do me a favor and quit reading from your LiveJournal while you try to make yourself look bigger in front of the mirror. Grow the fuck up, man the fuck up, and actually sling some shit talking my way that might make a dent in my ego. Hook some AED pads to your brain, set to maximum, and fire away. If you smell toast, it means you still need to turn the machine up higher.
You think I have TDS and I’m weak? You simp for the man who lied about bone spurs to get out of serving.
And you? You’re going to liberate HOW from me? You couldn’t even liberate Iraq and Afghanistan. I’m the cause for gas being at six bucks? Bitch, go back to Iraq and get me my oil. It’s next to the WMDs. You might need to kill a couple hundred thousand more civilians to find it. I wouldn’t want you to get attacked by unarmed 18 year olds again.
On July 3rd, I’m gonna bleed your body dry, draining so much color from you, you’d think you were a corporation’s logo washing themselves of the rainbow after Pride month.