Lehmberg, you back stabbing, underhanded, cheating, puss filled, scurvy ridden self abuser.

Mood: Like a diarrhoeic man desperate for a shit who’s had to hold it in for ages and then finally gets to a head; Explosive.

What in the name of sweet Jesus, his whore Mary, and the fucking gospel of Biddy, the holy saint of fellatio is going on? I mean, what the fucking, cunty, shitty faced twatting hell is happening here? I am livid, I seriously am. Just what has a scumbag of a human being like me got to do to actually get people to hate him enough to vote him the nastiest piece of faecal matter ever to be found on the heel of their shoes on fucking Kimbling’s blog?

http://redstarfilms.blogspot.com/2006/11/vote-for-2006-zorgy-awards.html

I’m batting along here doing my best to utterly revolt and disgust anyone that gets with in smelling distance of this place and fucking Alfred just sits there playing with his twonker and is matching me neck for neck, nay, now actually beating me. How do you do it you back stabbing, underhanded, cheating puss filled, scurvy ridden self abuser? How do you get people to hate you enough so that even when you aren’t doing anything in particular, they still turn out in their droves to nail ya? What’s the secret? Sheeeesh. Tell me; am I too nice?

Get on to the fucking page, seventh category down, and press “Arthur”. And don’t lie to me and tell me you’ve done it when you haven’t.



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Have you seen this load of posturing shit at Aliens Ate?

http://strangegrub.blogspot.com/2006/11/noviembre.html

Noviembre

To whom it may concern (if anyone),I have a novel to finish by the 30th of this month, so I may not be posting here as regularly, or in as much detail, as I'd like to. Nevertheless, I may have a few surprises in store for you, so keep checking back.

Best,
RDB

Oh fucking lah di dah. I’m a ponce and I’m writing a novel. Nyah, nyah. I have a deadline to meet, gosh, I must rush. Bags to pack, cats to shag, squirrels to cancel. Tell you what, you knobbing posturing asshole; stay away for November and for the rest of all eternity as well.



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I am thinking of changing my name here to Anonyarthur out of empathy with the rest of you. But I have a question for you girlie boys out there. Will it make my ass look big? I can’t tell just by looking in the mirror. Be honest and don’t just say what you think I want to hear. After all, we're not women.



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It suddenly hit me. Regan is among us. She has indeed assumed a masculine “Anony” identity and is parading around daring us to out her. We must not leave any stone unturned in order to expose her. Look for anyone with a moustache.



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I know it’s a bit late because I’ve already done it but does anyone have any objections if I use the C word? It is only polite to ask and after all, I wouldn’t want to offend anybody. Do let me know.



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Who’s This?#4

We all knew it would end, did it ever really begin, there are no more UFOs and it was debateable if there were any in the first place. But those on UFO UpDates, and we won’t mention any names – we all know who they are – refuse to let go and persist in their petty ego buffeting and posturing, and by their presence block the progress of a subject that could develop into a genuine science. Has beens and past-their-bests like Clark and Hall………..

Actually, there is a deep sense of irony about Reynolds both in his views and in his present blogging effort.

http://ufocon.blogspot.com/2006/10/extinction-of-ufos.html

Let’s start with that. It carries a picture of a dodo as if to imply that that is exactly what Ufology is; dead as etc. It doesn’t strike him that everybody else views him in exactly the same way, and as irrelevant too. This latest blog is just another effort indistinguishable from the rest. There is nothing new and it’s sad.

The other irony about Reynolds was that he wanted the old guard out so that new people could come in with a fresher, more radical approach. Rightly or wrongly, age is a factor and he ain’t no spring chicken. His agenda was indeterminable, probably because there wasn't one, and his age would have prevented his acceptance into the mainstream anyway (fuck; an Alfred word). He wanted to be drawn in and cuddled but Wendy Connors and her honey puddle got in the way. Bababoom.

We move on. Next?