Last week I wrote about a cat killing cumstain from Entfield, Connecticut who had started a social media feud for the ages with a police officer/comedian social media personality that was one of the more entertaining exchanges I’ve seen recently. If you haven’t already, you can catch up here:
What a winner.
So, over the weekend I decided to try out a “kinder, gentler” Bristol to approach some of our esteemed blog subjects about their cordial invitations to Turtleboy Live, and I figured, why not try it on this ballsack-for-a-chin?
Although he expressed some skepticism, he did open us to me enough to give me this piece of evidence to exonerate himself from the allegations of heinous animal abuse,
….Which was just a rambling sentagraph in full ratchetnese posted to his Facebook page a little over 6 months ago.
Sorry, Toast, you’re just not that convincing. The only thing that reeks more of horseshit than you story is your upper lip, FACKS.
But I definitely still wanted him on live at this point, because here at Turtleboy we are in the business of ratchet redemption, and clearly, this guy is desperately in need.
The fact that this cat murdering, barely literate, perpetually unemployed career criminal assesses his own value at $150.00 for any amount of time in exchange for his brain dead prattle is astounding. At this point, I dropped any semblance of an attempt at being charming, because I suck at it anyway. And Toast did not disappoint in his reaction.
If you are a full grown man who speaks in butchered English and crying laughter emojis, your argument is automatically invalid. I don’t write the laws of the internet and nature, it’s just how it is. Toast Malone further proved this point, however, by quickly blocking me.
I’m going to assume it was the fact I have a vagina that scared him off, as lifetime loser beta males often are intimidated by lady bits. This was probably an unwise move, because as unpleasant as I am to deal with if you’re a gigantic scumbag failed abortion like Tiny Tim, our Turtleriders can be so, so much worse.
Nobody calls Nikki Potnick a crackhead. Nobody. Everyone knows she prefers black tar heroin and meth. Someone needs to check his FACKS.
“Can’t be a wannabe thug with a gun charge at 17.” Oh my God. Somebody put that shit on a T shirt, this guy is a regular ratchet poet laureate. Never before has a single sentence carried a total lack of ambition, standards, morality or self awareness so completely. I’m certainly no advocate for any form of self harm, but if you ever find yourself bragging to a troll account about the gun charges you received in lieu of a high school diploma after being featured not once, but twice on Turtleboy, you may at least want to reevaluate your life and it’s overall value.
Fair point, seeing as “Come see me” is ratchetnese for, “I don’t have a license and car, and my ball sack is just a beat up empty coin purse where testicles are supposed to be”.
That’s right, a 9mm, as in, gun. This fucking waterhead actually pulled out a weapon in a Facebook video chat with two strangers, just hours after defending his own good name and decrying the criminal charges for which he was convicted and served time.
I can’t imagine why he didn’t make parole. He should be thankful he made it out of jail, period, because this is one douchenozzle clearly not fit for the outside.
And then of course, he ran away, because when you spend your whole life victimizing small defenseless rescue cats and talking shit to strangers online from the comfort of the couch in your mom’s section 8 den, what else are you going to do?
Thanks for the memories, Tiny Tim! I’m sure this isn’t the last we’ve heard of White Toast Malone, however. I’m just going to come out and say, if a time comes where women start turning up dead and missing in the Entfield area, I know I’d be looking right at this fucking guy.
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