Patrick Sean Tomlinson / @stealthygeek / "Torque Wheeler" / @RealAutomanic / Kempesh / Padawan v2.5 - "Conservative" sci-fi author with TDS, armed "drunk with anger management issues" and terminated parental rights, actual tough guy, obese, paid Quasi, paid thousands to be repeatedly unbanned from Twitter

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Pat gives his excuse to his 'fans' for not tweeting much yesterday.

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'praying to a trashcan'. Who the hell vomits in a trashcan for 18 hours? Looks like Pat is so scared of his toilet on twitter that he wont even use the word anymore.

Also, in other news...

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Pat, that's called a hangover. Stop drinking man.
I can't believe I forgot to check the Handsome Rick account. Guess who's a fan of the gimmick accounts?

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Damn, what a chad. The "H" obviously stands for "handsome".
 
A cyberatalker made use of the Tweetails script to thoroughly analyze Rick's Twitter activity.

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The results paint a picture of a deeply disturbed and overweight individual.
 
A cyberatalker made use of the Tweetails script to thoroughly analyze Rick's Twitter activity.

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The results paint a picture of a deeply disturbed and overweight individual.
The average word/syllable score is absurd. He's like a caveman propped up by knowledge of the word cyberstalker.
 
Imagine lovingly knitting your granddaughter a blanket in the hopes she'll someday wrap it around her own children to keep them warm during the harsh beer drinking, bratwurst devouring Wisconsin winters. Only for her fat layabout husband to commandeer and use it to Dutch oven himself all day on his fart couch while he tweets so often that it becomes synonymous with him. No amount of fabreezing or washing will make that blankie pure ever again. The only way to exercise the demons of Monday meatloafs past is to destroy it with fire.
Shut up, child! Baby little child! Child!
 
He's also a published author. Reach for the stars kids.
So am I. So are a bunch of other people here. There are plenty of absolute retards with a credit or two.
Fat has just enough life accomplishments (publishing pulp novels, interviews on Ancient Aliens knockoffs, appeared on the news when the Brewers won the NLDS) to think he's hot shit.
 
Fat has just enough life accomplishments (publishing pulp novels, interviews on Ancient Aliens knockoffs, appeared on the news when the Brewers won the NLDS) to think he's hot shit.
People with self-awareness wouldn’t assume that selling a few niche shitty novels (with sales like Fat Rick’s) means they could afford to become an unemployed drunk and live off their wife.

Why hasn’t she divorced him yet? Is she too ashamed to admit she made a mistake? Is she worried he’ll claim to be “the homemaker” and try to take her half-house?

Is it a communal property state?
 
People with self-awareness wouldn’t assume that selling a few niche shitty novels (with sales like Fat Rick’s) means they could afford to become an unemployed drunk and live off their wife.

Why hasn’t she divorced him yet? Is she too ashamed to admit she made a mistake? Is she worried he’ll claim to be “the homemaker” and try to take her half-house?

Is it a communal property state?
What if I told you Patrick has zero self-awareness? That's kind of his superpower
 
What if I told you Patrick has zero self-awareness? That's kind of his superpower
My question was more about her, and holy shit if I woke up married to a fat fuck who was leeching off me, and he hadn’t even had kids with me, but I knew he had a kid and abandoned it… And he was an unemployed fat fag… Would I keep paying for him to keep getting fatter at a beer bar?
 
My question was more about her, and holy shit if I woke up married to a fat fuck who was leeching off me, and he hadn’t even had kids with me, but I knew he had a kid and abandoned it… And he was an unemployed fat fag… Would I keep paying for him to keep getting fatter at a beer bar?
You would, if you were a feeder.
 
You would, if you were a feeder.
Do you reckon she’s a feeder? I mean, maybe she is?
EDIT: you might have a point here. She made him put all his “gym gear” in an attic where she knew he’d never use it. She refuses to let him walk the suburb, like a normal person would.
 
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Fat has just enough life accomplishments (publishing pulp novels, interviews on Ancient Aliens knockoffs, appeared on the news when the Brewers won the NLDS) to think he's hot shit.
They're not exactly 'life accomplishments' though. I mean, for the average, well-adjusted person, publishing your own book for the novelty of it or having a few tv appearances would be a pretty cool experience; but that's because they'd be supplemental to his or her life. They're like cherries atop a cake.

Rick's major malfunction is that he's deluded himself into believing that these peripheral feats constitute a life in their own right, and he has awarded himself a completely disproportionate and unwarranted sense of self-importance as a result of this error. The irony is that this only works to make the actual accomplishments appear to be more trivial and pathetic in inverse proportion to his blustering.

A few thousand book sales sounds like a laughably paltry sum coming from an arrogant blowhard claiming to be a six-figure mastermind author, but if some random buddy of yours were to humbly inform you he was making the same numbers writing as a hobby, you'd be far more inclined to look favorably on it and commend him for his achievements.

Pat's essentially proclaiming he's got the biggest, sweetest cake in all the land, child, but all he has to show for it is a handful of measly cherries.
 
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