- Joined
- Jul 8, 2020
You don't need drugs when your brain is permanently oxygen deprived because you're too fat and dumb to breathe properly.
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
- Thread starter Caverlock
- Start date
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- Joined
- Dec 14, 2022
Here's a fun thought experiment:
Let's say you're a typical middle class white male. And that you just found out that, for whatever reason, there's a non-zero chance that in a few weeks you will get honest-to-god-no-meme-real-life-gang-raped in a 90% black jail. The clock is ticking. How would you spend the few days you have left before you suffer indignities that will make a human clamor for God to have mercy on his soul, for his flesh is now foul beyond salvation?
A) Sell everything you have and desperately use that money to get the best lawyer money could buy?
B) Contact everyone you've ever wronged, make amends and ask for their forgiveness?
C) Gather your entire family and try to cherish every single last second you still have together?
If you chose any of these options then congratulations, because at least you're not Patrick:
....Unfortunately, the correct answer was D) Keep destroying your life for twitter points.
Also, I'd like to remind you that in this thought experiment, the reason you have decided risking getting you sygmoid colon rearranged by Dr. Tyrone, M.D. is because you couldn't stop your fish mouth from "doing that thing" and kept saying you would never pay your court-ordered debts:
What a life.
Let's say you're a typical middle class white male. And that you just found out that, for whatever reason, there's a non-zero chance that in a few weeks you will get honest-to-god-no-meme-real-life-gang-raped in a 90% black jail. The clock is ticking. How would you spend the few days you have left before you suffer indignities that will make a human clamor for God to have mercy on his soul, for his flesh is now foul beyond salvation?
A) Sell everything you have and desperately use that money to get the best lawyer money could buy?
B) Contact everyone you've ever wronged, make amends and ask for their forgiveness?
C) Gather your entire family and try to cherish every single last second you still have together?
If you chose any of these options then congratulations, because at least you're not Patrick:
....Unfortunately, the correct answer was D) Keep destroying your life for twitter points.
Also, I'd like to remind you that in this thought experiment, the reason you have decided risking getting you sygmoid colon rearranged by Dr. Tyrone, M.D. is because you couldn't stop your fish mouth from "doing that thing" and kept saying you would never pay your court-ordered debts:
What a life.
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OtherLastTrainHome
kiwifarms.net
- Joined
- Mar 17, 2023
i'd say patrick should fry too, but the last few pages have made it clear that if he were to suffer an incendiary fate then all of humanity and even mother nature would pay the final price all the sooner.
- Joined
- Dec 28, 2014
Hey, don't threaten him with a good time.
Note, the U.S. does not have literal debtors' prisons, if you have a judgment (with the possible exception of child support) and intend to refuse to pay it, you just don't pay it and then plead poverty.
Almost the only way you can end up going to jail for this is by doing something incredibly stupid like pretending you don't owe the debt at all, and openly spitting in the court's face and saying you're not paying it simply because you refuse to.
- Joined
- Mar 21, 2023
Given that he’s done this, and is too stupid to stop, what odds would you give that you actually does do some time?
- Joined
- Apr 19, 2022
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- Joined
- Dec 24, 2018
"Stalkers, stalker children everywhere!"
- Joined
- Dec 28, 2014
- Joined
- Sep 5, 2019
The odds apply to people who aren’t total fucking assholes who have openly said they’ll never pay a penny of their court-ordered judgment. There are literally hundreds of public statements from him that he will never pay. That has to count for something with a judge like Sosnay, who threw a lawyer out of his courtroom for wearing an ascot instead of a necktie.
- Joined
- Dec 14, 2022
I don't know about you guys, but if I were Pat, I'd consider that's 0.1% above my usually accepted butt-raping odds.
I shouldn't cancel my post-court prison bukakke celebratory pizzas yet, is what you're saying.
JustStopDude
kiwifarms.net
- Joined
- May 7, 2017
I'd honestly pay money to watch Patrick sit down with a behavior psychologist and a team of therapists as they try and mold him into a functional adult.No child, Patrick would be saved by a healthy dose of psilocybin mushrooms
- Joined
- Dec 28, 2014
I have to admit that impresses me. A judge with actual concern for decorum. That may seem old-fashioned to some people, but I think we need to bring some of that shit back. Courts should not be a clown show.
- Joined
- Jul 3, 2021
OtherLastTrainHome
kiwifarms.net
- Joined
- Mar 17, 2023
hard to believe he managed to get that helmet off. you'd think his facial fat grease would act as a binding agent and create a permanent connection between lardass and helmet.
also, that whole getup is strangely similar to antifa gear.
- Joined
- Feb 17, 2022
"Tell me about your mother."
"Who says I have a mother, child. Enjoy prison, stalker."
- Joined
- Mar 21, 2023
Nice fat chick selfie angle, Piggy.
- Joined
- Dec 31, 2018
"I wouldn't say there were no plans to adapt ... we simply hadn't been approached about it by anyone"The interview he did about his dream crew for a film based on one of his books was hilariously delusional. There are a couple of “exclusive interviews” with him where he touches on this. All the quotes are textbook Pat:
Thanks for correcting the record, child.
If you chose any of these options then congratulations, because at least you're not Patrick:
Shush child, June is before April and 28 weeks is before 20 weeks, atalker. Enjoy prison.
- Joined
- Dec 12, 2022
"Where am I?"
Fat Rick looks around in bewilderment. It seemed only a minute ago that he was sitting in front of his laptop writing his shitty Tiny Tim novel that nobody would want to read. But now he found himself in Victorian England with snowflakes fluttering to the ground. Dread set in as he realized the only sound he could hear was the crunching of snow underneath this feet. The street lanterns were dark and the windows of nearby buildings blacked out.
"Fat Rick Tomlinson."
Fat Rick spun around to see who had called him. Behind him stood an old man wearing a white robe with a long, grey beard.
"Who are you... and where am I?" Fat Rick asked with a sense of alarm rising in his voice.
But the old man calmly replied "I'm Bopharus, guardian of the Magic Mushrooms. I was chilling out when you popped me in your mouth and ate me. Now I'm within you and I'm not leaving until your body metabolizes me."
"Oh, okay. Well why don't you hurry up and pass through my system so I can get back to writing?"
"Fat Rick, my boy. That's not how this works-"
But before Bopharus could finish his thought, Fat Rick interrupted "Yes child, this is how this works."
The old man shook his head. "Fat Rick, I'm going to have to ask you to not 'child' me again. You see, I'm very familiar with you and how you-"
"You can't be familiar with me, child. Only I'm familiar with me."
"Tell me then, Fat Rick. Why did you eat me?"
Fat Rick chortled. "If I tell you why, will you leave me?"
"I will" Bopharus nodded.
"Well you see, I ate you because I wanted some inspiration for my book. But I can clearly see I-"
This time, it was Bopharus' turn to interrupt. "I can give you the inspiration you seek, my boy. I only ask that you allow me to take you on a trip."
Fat Rick rolled his eyes. "Fine, I'll go with you. But you better hold up your end of the deal."
"Very well, then..."
Light burst from Bopharus, blinding Fat Rick momentarily. When he could see again, Fat Rick saw that he was no longer in a Victorian ghost town. Rather, he was in the corner of a midwestern American living room adorned with Christmas decorations. But what stood out most was the Christmas tree in the middle of the room. A happy family sat around it as they exchanged gifts and smiles. There was a mother, a daughter, and a loving father who genuinely seemed to be in each others' company.
But such joy twisted Fat Rick's face with horror. Without thinking, he screamed "Hey! That's me!"
The old man calmly shook his head. "That's not you, my boy. But rather what could've been. You see..." Bopharus waved his hand and the loving father Fat Rick disappeared in a haze. In his place was smiling man whose very presence seemed to radiate a stern yet gentle warmth. "...This man, Pringle Cans John, is the one who took over the responsibility that you left behind."
Fat Rick scoffed at seeing the transformation. "Well you see, I never abandoned my daughter. And even if I did, nobody could've done a better job at raising her than me."
Bopharus once again calmly shook his head. "And that statement would've been true if you hadn't signed your daughter away."
Fat Rick cupped his index finger and his thumb under his many chins and said "Well I don't see what's inspiring about this anyway. You told me you'd give me what I wanted if I'd go on this little 'trip' of yours."
"I did promise you what you seek..." Bopharus waved his hand and the scene before them melted away into a busy bar. Friends, families, and couples all merrily chatted away over food and libations. "And now I take you to your present."
Fat Rick laughed to himself as he drunk in the atmosphere around him. "Oh, I'm Ebeneezer Scrooge now? Okay Charles Dickens, how original!"
"As original as the book you're writing..." Bopharus shot back. He pointed a bony finger at the far corner of the bar where a fat man sat on a stool hunched over a laptop. "And speaking of which, that's you writing it only yesterday."
"And this is supposed to be inspiring?"
"Is there anything inspiring about what you see? If you saw yourself sitting hunched over a laptop in the middle of a bar, what would you be inspired to do?"
Fat Rick paused to think of something inspiring about the sight before him. "Well I'll tell you what I wouldn't do. I wouldn't stalk this man on Internet forums... a man, by the way, who is very muscular and not fat."
The old man sighed "Very well. Now I'll take you on the final leg of your trip."
Fat Rick rolled his eyes "And you'll show me my grave where I'm all alone because nobody cared for me. Okay Ghost of Christmas Future, let's get this over with."
With the wave of a bony hand, the conversations of friends and loved ones evaporated away like exhaust from a car. In its place stood a frigid alleyway littered with trash which was weighed down with melted snow.
The old man spoke "There's little point in me showing your grave as that's where we all eventually find ourselves. I chose to show you your more...immediate future."
Clanging of empty bottles echoed through the alley as a bum stumbled into Fat Rick's view. He held onto one of the walls to balance himself as he trudged through wet garbage.
"No child" the bum muttered to himself. "I'm a world famous author who drives vintage sports cars. You're the hobo."
Fat Rick winced at what he saw. The bum looked just like him, save for the unkempt facial hair and the layers of tattered jackets shielding him from the cold.
"So this is what you wanted to show me? Is this supposed to be my inspiration?"
Bopharus stared right into Fat Rick's eyes and replied with a voice filled with gentle yet trembling anger. "Is this not inspiring enough for you? You may only see yourself in five years. But do you know what I see? I see a man who buckled under the pressures of fatherhood and ran away from his poor, defenseless daughter. And that would be his greatest sin if not for the fact that another man stepped in to raise her as his own. But no, I see a man who was fortunate enough to find another woman who'd love him. I see a man whose second wife would've accepted him for all of his shortcomings. And what did that man do to her? He filed a frivolous lawsuit that landed him in twenty thousand dollars of debt that he forced her to share with him. And that would be his greatest sin if not for the fact that she could live without him. But do you know what his greatest sin is? Fat Rick? Do you know what that man's greatest sin is?"
Trembling with shock, Fat Rick shook his head no.
"The greatest sin I see is how that man ran away from every single one of his shortcomings. He chose to deny anything was wrong until his reckoning came. 'No child' he would say. 'I am perfect in every way. It is you who is wrong!' You may not see anything inspiring about that man, but I do. That man inspired me to paint the picture you see in front of you. Can you not see it, Fat Rick? Can you not see my masterpiece?"
Before Fat Rick could answer, a hole opened up in the ground underneath his feet. With a scream, he fell. But somehow he managed to grab the edge of it and hang precariously above the nothingness below.
"Help!" Fat Rick screamed at the top of his lungs. "Get me out of here! This guy's trying to kill me! Heeeeeeelp!"
Bopharus walked over to the hole and perched himself above Fat Rick and with a gentle wave, said "Enjoy the inspiration, my boy."
With a gasp, Fat Rick woke up in front of his laptop. He checked his surroundings to make sure he was still in the quiet comfort of his own home. He took several deep breaths to calm himself before looking at his laptop screen.
"It was just a... trip. Just a bad trip..."
Or that's what Fat Rick believed until he read the words on the screen. He didn't know how they got there, but before him sat a mosaic of words painted with black pixels on a white background. These were words that Fat Rick himself could've never written on his own. There was something special about them because they had a quality that seemed...
"Honest..."
Fat Rick didn't know why he said that word. All he knew was he had the key to his success as a writer. With this knowledge, he picked up his phone and found his wife Nikki in his contacts list. He hit the phone icon and waited for her to answer.
"Hello?" She asked.
"Nikki?"
"Yes?"
"Hey, do me a favor."
"Sure, what's up?"
"Next time you go see Tyrone for one of your gynoflatulence sessions, have him hook me up with some more of these magic mushrooms. Okay?"
Fat Rick looks around in bewilderment. It seemed only a minute ago that he was sitting in front of his laptop writing his shitty Tiny Tim novel that nobody would want to read. But now he found himself in Victorian England with snowflakes fluttering to the ground. Dread set in as he realized the only sound he could hear was the crunching of snow underneath this feet. The street lanterns were dark and the windows of nearby buildings blacked out.
"Fat Rick Tomlinson."
Fat Rick spun around to see who had called him. Behind him stood an old man wearing a white robe with a long, grey beard.
"Who are you... and where am I?" Fat Rick asked with a sense of alarm rising in his voice.
But the old man calmly replied "I'm Bopharus, guardian of the Magic Mushrooms. I was chilling out when you popped me in your mouth and ate me. Now I'm within you and I'm not leaving until your body metabolizes me."
"Oh, okay. Well why don't you hurry up and pass through my system so I can get back to writing?"
"Fat Rick, my boy. That's not how this works-"
But before Bopharus could finish his thought, Fat Rick interrupted "Yes child, this is how this works."
The old man shook his head. "Fat Rick, I'm going to have to ask you to not 'child' me again. You see, I'm very familiar with you and how you-"
"You can't be familiar with me, child. Only I'm familiar with me."
"Tell me then, Fat Rick. Why did you eat me?"
Fat Rick chortled. "If I tell you why, will you leave me?"
"I will" Bopharus nodded.
"Well you see, I ate you because I wanted some inspiration for my book. But I can clearly see I-"
This time, it was Bopharus' turn to interrupt. "I can give you the inspiration you seek, my boy. I only ask that you allow me to take you on a trip."
Fat Rick rolled his eyes. "Fine, I'll go with you. But you better hold up your end of the deal."
"Very well, then..."
Light burst from Bopharus, blinding Fat Rick momentarily. When he could see again, Fat Rick saw that he was no longer in a Victorian ghost town. Rather, he was in the corner of a midwestern American living room adorned with Christmas decorations. But what stood out most was the Christmas tree in the middle of the room. A happy family sat around it as they exchanged gifts and smiles. There was a mother, a daughter, and a loving father who genuinely seemed to be in each others' company.
But such joy twisted Fat Rick's face with horror. Without thinking, he screamed "Hey! That's me!"
The old man calmly shook his head. "That's not you, my boy. But rather what could've been. You see..." Bopharus waved his hand and the loving father Fat Rick disappeared in a haze. In his place was smiling man whose very presence seemed to radiate a stern yet gentle warmth. "...This man, Pringle Cans John, is the one who took over the responsibility that you left behind."
Fat Rick scoffed at seeing the transformation. "Well you see, I never abandoned my daughter. And even if I did, nobody could've done a better job at raising her than me."
Bopharus once again calmly shook his head. "And that statement would've been true if you hadn't signed your daughter away."
Fat Rick cupped his index finger and his thumb under his many chins and said "Well I don't see what's inspiring about this anyway. You told me you'd give me what I wanted if I'd go on this little 'trip' of yours."
"I did promise you what you seek..." Bopharus waved his hand and the scene before them melted away into a busy bar. Friends, families, and couples all merrily chatted away over food and libations. "And now I take you to your present."
Fat Rick laughed to himself as he drunk in the atmosphere around him. "Oh, I'm Ebeneezer Scrooge now? Okay Charles Dickens, how original!"
"As original as the book you're writing..." Bopharus shot back. He pointed a bony finger at the far corner of the bar where a fat man sat on a stool hunched over a laptop. "And speaking of which, that's you writing it only yesterday."
"And this is supposed to be inspiring?"
"Is there anything inspiring about what you see? If you saw yourself sitting hunched over a laptop in the middle of a bar, what would you be inspired to do?"
Fat Rick paused to think of something inspiring about the sight before him. "Well I'll tell you what I wouldn't do. I wouldn't stalk this man on Internet forums... a man, by the way, who is very muscular and not fat."
The old man sighed "Very well. Now I'll take you on the final leg of your trip."
Fat Rick rolled his eyes "And you'll show me my grave where I'm all alone because nobody cared for me. Okay Ghost of Christmas Future, let's get this over with."
With the wave of a bony hand, the conversations of friends and loved ones evaporated away like exhaust from a car. In its place stood a frigid alleyway littered with trash which was weighed down with melted snow.
The old man spoke "There's little point in me showing your grave as that's where we all eventually find ourselves. I chose to show you your more...immediate future."
Clanging of empty bottles echoed through the alley as a bum stumbled into Fat Rick's view. He held onto one of the walls to balance himself as he trudged through wet garbage.
"No child" the bum muttered to himself. "I'm a world famous author who drives vintage sports cars. You're the hobo."
Fat Rick winced at what he saw. The bum looked just like him, save for the unkempt facial hair and the layers of tattered jackets shielding him from the cold.
"So this is what you wanted to show me? Is this supposed to be my inspiration?"
Bopharus stared right into Fat Rick's eyes and replied with a voice filled with gentle yet trembling anger. "Is this not inspiring enough for you? You may only see yourself in five years. But do you know what I see? I see a man who buckled under the pressures of fatherhood and ran away from his poor, defenseless daughter. And that would be his greatest sin if not for the fact that another man stepped in to raise her as his own. But no, I see a man who was fortunate enough to find another woman who'd love him. I see a man whose second wife would've accepted him for all of his shortcomings. And what did that man do to her? He filed a frivolous lawsuit that landed him in twenty thousand dollars of debt that he forced her to share with him. And that would be his greatest sin if not for the fact that she could live without him. But do you know what his greatest sin is? Fat Rick? Do you know what that man's greatest sin is?"
Trembling with shock, Fat Rick shook his head no.
"The greatest sin I see is how that man ran away from every single one of his shortcomings. He chose to deny anything was wrong until his reckoning came. 'No child' he would say. 'I am perfect in every way. It is you who is wrong!' You may not see anything inspiring about that man, but I do. That man inspired me to paint the picture you see in front of you. Can you not see it, Fat Rick? Can you not see my masterpiece?"
Before Fat Rick could answer, a hole opened up in the ground underneath his feet. With a scream, he fell. But somehow he managed to grab the edge of it and hang precariously above the nothingness below.
"Help!" Fat Rick screamed at the top of his lungs. "Get me out of here! This guy's trying to kill me! Heeeeeeelp!"
Bopharus walked over to the hole and perched himself above Fat Rick and with a gentle wave, said "Enjoy the inspiration, my boy."
With a gasp, Fat Rick woke up in front of his laptop. He checked his surroundings to make sure he was still in the quiet comfort of his own home. He took several deep breaths to calm himself before looking at his laptop screen.
"It was just a... trip. Just a bad trip..."
Or that's what Fat Rick believed until he read the words on the screen. He didn't know how they got there, but before him sat a mosaic of words painted with black pixels on a white background. These were words that Fat Rick himself could've never written on his own. There was something special about them because they had a quality that seemed...
"Honest..."
Fat Rick didn't know why he said that word. All he knew was he had the key to his success as a writer. With this knowledge, he picked up his phone and found his wife Nikki in his contacts list. He hit the phone icon and waited for her to answer.
"Hello?" She asked.
"Nikki?"
"Yes?"
"Hey, do me a favor."
"Sure, what's up?"
"Next time you go see Tyrone for one of your gynoflatulence sessions, have him hook me up with some more of these magic mushrooms. Okay?"
- Joined
- Dec 28, 2014
AntiFAT gear.
- Joined
- Sep 10, 2020
Motley Poo was banned from PFG for a death threat against The Quartering:
