El oh fucking el.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
I thought Mamba was bad, but holy shit. This is a whole new level of shitty.
I thought – only because everyone fuckin’ said so – and was promised that this guy Jason Cashe was going to be a good and formidable challenge, but I must have heard wrong…because Jason Cashe is neither of those things. Lee Best tends to do this. He finds the big fish in the small pond, and signs them to a contract in HOW and within minutes – when that fish is moved into the HOW pond – he or she finds out that they’re not as big as they once thought. They also find out, that this isn’t some kind of fuckin’ koi pond. This fuckin’ pond is from legend and full of sharks.
Yeah, I know…sharks live in saltwater. Don’t get hung up on the details, that’s not the fuckin’ point. The point is that we’re all carnivores in HOW, we’re all alphas…and from the looks of it Cashe, you’re just a run of the mill bitch.
Here’s what you are going to come to realize, Cashe. This is H-O-W. There are no squash matches here, there are no easy passes. Everyone in HOW competes. Everyone in HOW is a certified fuckin’ bad ass, and anyone in HOW could be a World Champion in any of those other bullshit companies you mentioned…at ANY point in history. HOW is in a class of its own, and you’re going to find that out sooner rather than later, Jason.
Every year we get a guy like you in the LBI, and it turns out that the DeNucci Cup will be no different. Every year some superstar will enter the tournament, and every year that superstar will be sent out to pasture and disappear in March. It’s nothing new. It’s sort of a tradition around these parts.
That’s a hard realization to come to when you’ve been “successful” – heavy on the fuckin’ air quotes – in other places. Success isn’t beating a bunch of no talent having shit bags in Fisher Price companies. Success is competing in HOW. Bottom fuckin’ line.
I don’t know what the fuck you think you’re talking about when you bring up a supposed big four. Bitch, please. Like Highlander, there’s always only and ever been ONE. That one is HOW, so bringing up a supposed big four to try and sell your stock to the people that have never heard of you before, isn’t going to help your case Jason. Peddle your wares someplace else, and put your fuckin’ game face on. This is HOW, son. We don’t want to hear that bullshit here.
Like every other bullshit nobody that shows up in HOW, you talk about climbing the ladder. The ladder is about as real as the fuckin’ fabled brass ring; it just doesn’t fuckin’ exist.
yOu’Re JuST a RUnG oN tHE lADdER tO mY SuCCEsS!
Blardy fuckin’ blar. Eat a hefty-bag full of dicks with that shit, and come back with a new tag line. This one is old and tired, but it’s not surprising that you’d say that because this is exactly what the fuck I’m talking about. You come here talking all that success bullshit, and you’re never going to be able to find the fuckin’ ladder, cause your eyes will be swollen shut the entire time you’re here.
Look, dude…I get it. Where you come from you’re fuckin’ cool, and everyone knows who you are, and I’m sure everyone is on your nuts and everyone loves this fuckin’ weird shit you got going on. But like I said before, this is HOW. No amount of tickling, heavy breathing or leg humping is going to get you further in this tournament than you’ve already gotten.
Why the fuck did this asshole get a bye in the first place? Jesus H. Clearly a wasted spot for someone deserving, and a blown opportunity for you Jason. You’re not the fuckin’ 2014 Patriots; you didn’t deserve the bye. You’re the fuckin’ Raiders….pick a year; doesn’t matter which. You look cool like the Raiders, you’re popular in your circle and you’ve got a niche following, but as soon as the playoffs arrive…you’re nowhere to be fuckin’ found.
Welcome to the land of Octane, you tickle-me Elmo owning, perverted shitbag. I hope you enjoy your short stay.
Lindsay Troy, I saved these words just for you; you…fuckin’ goblin. Fuck you.