And Now This Brief Interlude
Hey, I’ve just thought of a great joke I want to share with you, right out of the blue.
Q: What’s black and sits at the top of the stairs?
A: Stephen Hawking in a house fire.
Brilliant. Anyway, that’s got me into full blown Calibra mode. Let’s get it on….
The night is hot and sticky as you walk home from the streetside eatery with your girlfriend, oblivious to the all too frequent stares from other people, mostly Thais. You don’t realize it but when people of your make up (genetically shat upon) stray away from the bar areas and into decent society you cause distress and sadness to all around you. Despite how people act and what they may say, it is fundamentally disgusting to see old wreckage washed up onto far flung shores by the waves of life using money as a means of finding false happiness with morally unscrupulous girls interested only in bleeding your wasted carcass dry. Somewhere, deep down, way way down, you know this. However, desperation always outweighs reason and decency is often tossed to the wind at the best of times. This is why you and people like you make such a good job of pretending everything is normal, because you’re desperate to be normal. Live and let live you say? Yeah, that get-out clause only works when fundamental morals are not breached. Should we use this phrase when dealing with child molesters and rapists? I think not, because this is what you people are at the end of the day, albeit cleverly disguised. In my opinion, there is only one way to deal with your sort, a well aimed hollow tipped bullet between the eyes (or testicles, if it’s a bitch pulling the trigger.)
Have you ever noticed how people like Wolfgang Willard Richtenstein (the oxygen wasting guy chasing ‘The Hopeless Dream’) seem to be living in a world of their own? They are the people we talk and snigger about at work, they are the people the shop assistants laugh at behind their backs, they are the people who drink in bars on their own, they are the people with the hair no hairdresser wants to cut, and, best of all, they are the people who eventually become victims for people like me, Calibra. You can’t help these people, because at the end of the day they are beyond help and, most of all, they don’t realize they need help. There is five percent missing somewhere ‘up there’ and this is why they are unable to take charge of their lives and make something of themselves in a decent country. This is also why they are unable to grab annoying people by the throat (people like me, I admit it) and say….come on then c*nt!!! Sorry, but if you are unable to do that in this day and age then, my friend, you will go down. It’s a mathematically certainty that one day, people like me will meet people like you and we will take you down, either quickly through a vicious physical assault (any excuse will do) or slowly through years of constant harassing and bullying, ending in a vicious physical assault. I prefer the latter.
Also, I have noticed that the same rat bags back home will have relationships with women in their mirror image, sometimes physically as well as mentally. These farang women will be weak minded, stupid belligerent creatures with neither the IQ nor the personality to leave shit heads like you. It’s almost as if these women enjoy being poor and filthy all the time. They are not happy unless there have been at least two full blown screaming arguments per day and a physical assault at least once per week. An Indian inked fist crunching into bone is music to the bitch’s ears. Love on the left, Hate on the right. Which one will you give her today? In my opinion, the bitch deserves nothing less, you deserve nothing more, so fuck the pair of you.
Thailand, and places like Thailand, are havens for shitters like you because you can walk freely amongst other similar shitters. Always remember though, that every day at least a dozen people will notice you and your latest child abuse victim. It may be at the reception of the hotel, at a streetside vendor, at a bar, at Carrefour, walking along the pavement, everywhere you go with your monkey on a dollar sign chain decent people like me will see you and we will all be thinking the same thought, how delicious it would be hear you scream your last. You are only safe when surrounded by your own people. Then you can all bullshit each other and pretend you’ve cracked it. The only thing that’s cracked will by your little brown monkey’s sanity, although she will do a good job of covering it up, chasing the dollar, while you’re too pissed or hungover to notice anyway. Either that or, like Wolfgang Willard Richtenstein, you will be a stupid senseless fuckwit, driven by crazed desperation to belong and the need to hold and be held.
I have an idea. All you old shit filled pigs reading this, take a moment to stand up and go to the nearest mirror. Now, have a good honest look at yourself. Study the flabby jowls, the yellow teeth, the gray / white hair, the red nose, the deep lines and the general slack lost expression. Now, ask yourself these questions:
– Am I living a productive life here?
– Does she really, I mean really, love me?
– Does her family take me seriously?
– What is really going on in that head of hers?
– When did she ever buy me anything?
– Will she be totally faithful to me, always?
– What the fuck am I doing here?
Trust me when I say this. At worst, that little bitch hates everything you stand for. At best, she will try but ultimately fail to understand anything you stand for. How can she? she’s a stupid farmers daughter and a flat chested flat arsed whore of minimal talents. Be a man and wake the fuck up or you will live the rest of your miserable life in frustration, doubt and sadness.
Let the writings of Calibra be a lesson to you all. In this day and age you can’t just tap people on the shoulder anymore to get them to listen. You have to hit them with a sledgehammer. This is why I have decided to unleash ‘The Beast’. It is an article so shocking many of you will be genuinely upset. Some of you with daughters may even cry. It will take you to the edge, maybe even past it. It is my sledgehammer and it will crush you. I’m sorry, but that’s the way it has to be.
My previous submissions have been a Sunday school picnic compared to what will come. I have come out through the far side of Hell and it’s been a great journey. It is time to go back in and I’m taking you with me.
Let’s see how you like it.