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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Another classic Tomlinson Tall Tale. Pat, his ex wife and her brother all had Mustang's. Adrienne apparently totaled one according to a rascal on the forum. Pat has had two POS Bullitt Mustang's and one even bigger piece of shit but never at the same time. He had the audacity to tweet pictures of them at Ford once trying to blag a test drive of the newest model at a car show and was, obviously, completely ignored. His "fleet" is part of his classic "fake it til you make it" strategy where he was also training to compete in triathlons. I would literally consider giving up one of my kids for a 4k unedited video of Pat competing in a triathlon.
What the fuck is with this guy and Mustangs? I get that he's got some misguided notion of American masculinity, but you'd think a meathead who's "into cars" would try to get his hands on a Corvette or something. This is approaching religiosity or outright fetishism.
 
What the fuck is with this guy and Mustangs? I get that he's got some misguided notion of American masculinity, but you'd think a meathead who's "into cars" would try to get his hands on a Corvette or something. This is approaching religiosity or outright fetishism.
They look cool and manly, I'm sorry you're so stupid. I can't help you.
The hyperfixation is a classic trait of autism too
 
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What the fuck is with this guy and Mustangs? I get that he's got some misguided notion of American masculinity, but you'd think a meathead who's "into cars" would try to get his hands on a Corvette or something. This is approaching religiosity or outright fetishism.
I think it's a thing he co-opted from his (presumably much cooler) ex brother in law. He took on several traits that were either PCJ's (quality knives) or diametrically opposed to PCJ (my Triumph enrages Harley owners, child!) once Adrienne cucked him into oblivion and so much of what defines him comes from how he claims his gay clown father raised him so I don't think Pat has anything that is really his own.

Perhaps with the exception of being the world's greatest cunt but, even then, a quick glance at Judy Raven's hideous visage suggests she has him beat there too.

Keeping with the family tree, next to be looked into was Pat's mother, the famous hashtag inventor, Judith Raven. I like my vintage broads I tell ya, but Momma wasn't a looker no sir.
Tried looking for her in that chorus photo, but fuck me did she go to some weird cult school? Why they all got the exact same hairdo?!
Pat clearly got most of his looks from daddy, his brother Kyle looks more like ol' Judy

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Mama Raven is second from the right in the second line from the back. Even in a group of ugly 18 year old girls who all look about 52, her unbelievably cunty "I'm always right, child" expression shines through.
 
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God she looks tyrannical doesn't she? He looks like a weak little browbeaten beta. I bet she terrorised that household. I bet she beat him with a willow branch when she didn't get her own way. I bet she wore leathers in the bedroom. I bet she made you grovel while she put cigarettes out on your back whilst playing jazz on her old timey record player and didn't let you cum till she gave you permis- I'll stop now.
 
Having a great time reading up about his family, I feel a certain amount of unease over how similar their physical features are. All pudgy and doughy. I'm becoming convinced the Tomlinson genes are cursed and being born into their brood is punishment for crimes of the past.
Very much a Lovecraftian horror tale, isn't it.

Like those fish people in Shadow over Innsmouth.
 
By the way Pat, your website needs a blog and writing updates. Ideally, you would be writing shortstories that you give away to subscribers to your email list. That's how you build an audience that will buy your books. You don't sell books by politisperging on Twitter.
Imagine how many short stories Pat could have written by now if he devoted even half the time he spends ranting in an empty room on Twitter to his craft.

They'd all be complete shit, I know, but at least he'd have a sizeable body of work by now, instead of just a sizeable body (because he is fat).
 
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God she looks tyrannical doesn't she? He looks like a weak little browbeaten beta. I bet she terrorised that household. I bet she beat him with a willow branch when she didn't get her own way. I bet she wore leathers in the bedroom. I bet she made you grovel while she put cigarettes out on your back whilst playing jazz on her old timey record player and didn't let you cum till she gave you permis- I'll stop now.
You can visualize he looking at the pupa stage Patrick after he says something stupid and saying “Wrong. As always.”
 
That's only common in East Asian countries (i.e. "Tokyo" is "Eastern Capital" and so is the old name for Hanoi "Tonkin"). Although the precedent in SF is there since in many of George Lucas's drafts/the early Star Wars EU, the capital of the Empire was simply "Imperial Center".
George Lucas is hack too, probably not on the level of Fat but the only reason Star Wars ever took off was because he was tard wrangled very well back in the day.
 

Wisconsin - Pay Quasi, My Porcine Son feat. Mama Raven

Pay Quasi, my porcine son
There'll be no peace till you're done
Lay your rotund bulk to rest
Don't you tweet no more

Once you rose above the noise and confusion
Pro-abortion tweet started your delusion
You were soaring ever higher
On that viral high
Even though you wrote you still cannot sell books
Though your wife gave birth you still have no daughter
You can hear my voice when you're dreaming
You can hear me say

Pay Quasi, my porcine son
There'll be no peace till you're done
Lay your rotund bulk to rest
Don't you tweet no more

Masquerading as a man called Torque Wheeler
Coping with the fact that you're a pork squealer
You always claimed to be a smart man, well
Then one day they found your GPA
On a stormy sea of drunken emotions
Bloated manatee tossed out of the ocean
You set a course for winds of failure
Can you hear your mama say

Pay Quasi, my porcine son
There'll be no peace till you're done
Lay your rotund bulk to rest
Don't you tweet no more, no

Buck broken by the trolls and the stalkers
Hated by fellow contact form authors
Now your life is completely ruined
And no redemption awaits you

Pay Quasi, my porcine son
There'll be no peace till you're done
Lay your rotund bulk to rest
Don't you tweet, don't you tweet no more
No more
 
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God she looks tyrannical doesn't she? He looks like a weak little browbeaten beta. I bet she terrorised that household. I bet she beat him with a willow branch when she didn't get her own way. I bet she wore leathers in the bedroom. I bet she made you grovel while she put cigarettes out on your back whilst playing jazz on her old timey record player and didn't let you cum till she gave you permis- I'll stop now.
Now we have Piggy's complete family picture.
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