
Now that's something I didn't expect to see. Hello. I've a feeling you'll conduct yourself a bit better than the last scorned woman we've had from Nick's orbit.
Hello Kiwifarms!
Hey Himedall! How's this for proof?
View attachment 5261931
Note how Nick goes from "you" to "the people" to "the internet" over the course of this rant. It's always everyone else's fault. Also note how the initial question wasn't even answered. Instead there's just a wall of performative "pity me" bullshit about loosely related things that
definitely don't bother him and don't make him mad. Because that's what not mad people do, write walls of text bitching about all and sundry in response to a simple question.
He doesn't even address or bring up anything specific, it's all vague "things" and "some sort of problem" and unspecified "faggotry." And well, what choice does he have? If he brings up any specifics, it will immediately be obvious that he's not the victim he's trying to paint himself as.
Reminder that this is all because Kalea asked in chat how Mr. Energii_King is doing. One line.

Pretty sure Nick "giving himself to people" was/is the problem. No one asked for it, no one wanted to see any of it. I sure as fuck didn't want to see his cheeks with a whiskey bottle between them, yet here we are.

Uh-huh. It's all the prudes' and the incels' fault. Does he ever take responsibility for anything?
At this spirited proclamation, "the internet" proceeded to immediately roll over and obey, as is tradition. The threads got deleted, everyone unsaw the Freak Flag Friday shirtless streams, the photos from Hedonism II and the Gay 90s recording (41 today!). Montagraph apologized for daring to sue when dared to sue and offered to pay reasonable attorney's fees. The hard, illegal in Minnesota drugs seeped, tar-like, out of Nick's pores. The soft, recently legalized in Minnesota drugs followed suit. As his neural pathways returned to normal, the irreversible brain damage reversed itself. The balldo managed to biodegrade. The St. Andrew's cross emitted a terrifying groan, shed the paint, the chains, the cuffs, and twisted itself into a glorious crucifix, shining faintly with a light as white and resolute as it was godly.
...except that's not how any of this works. The genie is well and truly out of the (whiskey) bottle now. Good job, Nicky, long may you moo.
And by the way, no one
here has ever "fucked with" you. No one called you at night, no one sent as much as a single pepperoni quattro to your house. There was no harrassment of neighbors or forwarding of partricularly degenerate clips
(Good. GOOD.) to the school your kids attend band activities at. You've not acquired any a-logs or stalkers, and at this point you'll probably never grow big or notorious enough to ever do so. The single person that came close was Twitter Is Cancer, and he's been banned from KF. The only thing that was done to you was putting up a metaphorical mirror in front of you and your Locals gaggle of degenerate misfits. The rest was entirely your own doing.
Now, since this is Nick talking, there's bound to be some hypocrisy hidden between the lines, as it were, and I think it's this: having been swatted by troons several times, Nick knows
first-hand what "fucking with someone" looks like. Him trying to elevate what basically amounts to harsh-but-fair criticism into the realm of "burning bridges" and "fucking with" him is, again, performative bullshit designed to paint himself as the victim he clearly isn't.