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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
"It's compelling you to obsessively create thousands of fake accounts"
The mask slipped, I really think he believes that it's one person making every single one of the accounts that tweet at him or numbers that text him. Maybe I'm naive but I can't imagine even the most dedicated pests making more than 20, 30 at the absolute most accounts and spending the time to tweet at him.
The only reason this doesn't sound insane to him is that all of the interaction from his side really is just one guy spending his entire life doing that. A dozen pests each spending 5 minutes fucking with him is at minimum an hour of his life gone down the drain.
Could that be his unconscious desire for trannies?
She looks average middle aged woman when other people take photos of or with her, she looks like a tranny when fatrick is behind the shutter.
We did discover his tranny chasing reddit account, we know he flirts with trannies on Twitter, etc.
YASS CAP'N, SLAY! To re-cap for the newbies, Patrick has stated that the moment he saw Captain America pick up Thor's hammer in a cinema was the most impactful event of his life, overshadowing the birth of his child (not aTalker child, his actual biological one).
So just what would Fatrick do if hypothetically Dan Mullen, Josh "Quasi" Gibney, and Robert "Boomia" Prongay Jr. all went to prison for felony fat text harassment but Fat still kept receiving texts making Wookiee noises at him and his toilet was still arguing with him?
So just what would Fatrick do if hypothetically Dan Mullen, Josh "Quasi" Gibney, and Robert "Boomia" Prongay Jr. all went to prison for felony fat text harassment but Fat still kept receiving texts making Wookiee noises at him and his toilet was still arguing with him?
He'd drink heavily and be an asshole to absolutely everyone who stumbles on his twitter feed, also more Tale Tales of Manliness because he really likes those.
Brianna Wu will soon be available, now that he's outed as a transphobic tranny and Frank Wu will have to commit sudoku to redeem the Wu Famiry Name. Or maybe they can all form a polycule based on being "Experts On Being Harrassed Online."
Then again, a shitbox Rustang and a hovel is too peasanty for John Walker Flynt's deserved tastes.
I've heard that but I don't know it for a fact. I've had Dermabond used on myself to close small cuts on my face and hands in the field and it worked fine.
Changing subjects for a moment, have you ever noticed just how immensely fat Patrick is?
No. It did however become fairly popular for that in Vietnam, because as a quick and dirty option to stop bleeding in the bush it's hard to beat. Duck tape is another popular option these days since it holds well and provides a nice waterproof covering.
Comedian Jim Florentine has done a third roast of one of piggy's tweets on his podcast. This time it was the lie about Mama Raven (Pat's mom) going to a Slipknot concert:
I love that Jim has only read three of Pat's tweets and completely despises him.
Comedian Jim Florentine has done a third roast of one of piggy's tweets on his podcast. This time it was the lie about Mama Raven (Pat's mom) going to a Slipknot concert:
"If your mom is such a badass why did she raise such a little bitch?"
He's got a point. Patrick screams "had a weird and overbearing mother growing up". He is a neon bright poster for development issues he never grew out of nor has the mental acuity to do so. But, those are just my delusions again...
Comedian Jim Florentine has done a third roast of one of piggy's tweets on his podcast. This time it was the lie about Mama Raven (Pat's mom) going to a Slipknot concert:
IF the Mother in the pit happened, it was probably that she wandered in confused and lost from her care home, got trapped in the pit, so had to be rescued by security.
Fatrick may have even led her in there for the purposes of Tweeting about it.
I've heard that but I don't know it for a fact. I've had Dermabond used on myself to close small cuts on my face and hands in the field and it worked fine.
Changing subjects for a moment, have you ever noticed just how immensely fat Patrick is?
it's tiny but so typically annoying that while trying to brag about a "mosh pit" he misspells it.
i like the idea of mama raven as a grandma juggalette going to slipknot shows.
maybe she'll get box braids and pat will have to tell her "umm that's considered an appropriative hairstyle mom."
"fuck off boy! you don't understand this Clown Lyfe"
Comedian Jim Florentine has done a third roast of one of piggy's tweets on his podcast. This time it was the lie about Mama Raven (Pat's mom) going to a Slipknot concert:
I love the way Jim says the word "prezzies" it kills me every time. I loved it when he brought his son on to talk about the prezzie tweet.
Speaking of, I missed the originally prezzie tweet and therefore the context somehow, so for a while whenever someone referenced prezzies I always assumed it was referring to a giant fair pretzel Patrick had posted about. I thought this because he's obese and can't stop eating Wisconsin cheese and beer. Are y'all aware he's fat?
Surprisingly my (incorrect) assumed context still worked most of the time in a sentence.
Since Null has been using all of KFs processing power trying calculate the last digit of Pi for the last 14 hours, I've had some time to kill. My exit node was located in Iceland anyways, so I decided to check out the local bookstore. I was in the mood for some contemporary Sci-Fi, and 'Neuromancer' still seemed too daunting for me, so I took the leap of faith and got myself a copy of 'The Ark'.
And yeah, I know, there have been more extensive reviews ITT, so I'm not breaking any new ground when I'm saying that my main takeaway from this is that it's just ...really fucking bland.
I've read about 10% percent of the book it already feels dry, maybe it has some more entertaining quotes about 'being fat in space' to offer, but then why read it myself? I can just wait until some Kiwi - get it - trims off the fat and posts a compilation of fun quotes.
The world building feels like it's written in a different language, everything depends on having seen some gay-ass space opera on his fucking Paramount+. His choice of words is poor at best, but usually complete and utter dogshit. The only times where I really got immersed while reading this smut were when I read a term like 'sumptuous', and suddenly I had this vivid picture of some hack writer looking up synonyms for the term 'expensive' in my head. From what I've gathered, this novel is set about 200 years after the last remains of humanity left earth, for whatever reason. A destination has been mentioned, something something ten thousands of kilometres of carbon-nanotube ribbon (better known as Fat's gastric band), who gives a shit. Parts of the old cultures still remain apparently: the protagonist has a name that makes you go 'ahh, that was his name, right, I almost forgot' every three sentences. Then there's two Chinese guys with names that don't follow any naming convention, calling them 'Ching Zhang' and 'Chong Ching' would've been just as racist, but more tasteful. And there's a greek guy for some reason.
Hate to break it to you A&N, space is 50% Chinese, 25% Greek and 25% ambiguous but explicitly described as obese. He describes a furniture style from the old world as 'french'. Not baroque or a new, invented space term, just french. There's a paragraph where he licks a painting to check if it's genuine linseed oil, without doubt one of the fattest things I have ever read in my life.
While I, admittedly, haven't read that much Sci-Fi except for Douglas Adams and the occasional H. G. Wells. novel, I feel confident in saying that this is one of the lowest forms of Sci-Fi. 'Oh, he is using metric, so it must be in space' is the equivalent of hack fantasy writers that made a living writing about elfes after learning a few Gaelic words on Duolingo.
This is what you buy at the airport in a hurry, when you need something to kill time on a 2 hour flight, and you're already late, so you accidentally misread the name 'S. Tomlinson' and think to yourself 'Damn, didn't know that Hunter's son wrote Sci-Fi'. This is something you'd buy as a cheap last minute for someone that you don't really give a shit about, but they're friends with your friends, so you have to go to their birthday party - idk, they post pictures of their Lego Star Wars sets on Instagram, so I guess a bargin bin book with a generic space ship on the cover seems like an appropriate gift? You wouldn't even bother scraching of the -50% of sticker. You did the bare minimum, pretending not to would just be rude.
Reading this book feels like a gayop, but writing about it is incredibly difficult, just because it's so fucking boring. Creating art is incredibly difficult and I have an enormous respect even for failed attempts. Creating a grift usually requires some intelligence, the market is flooded with hack authors, who still make a very good living, because they know their audience. 'The Ark' is neither. It doesn't feel genuine, it doesn't feel formulaic, it's just boring, uninspired hack writing. Plain and simple. This is not your Tom Myers or Bert Kreischer of Sci-Fi. This is just a random open mic hack #53201 that steamrolls trough his 5 minute spot with benign material, until he makes room for open mic hack #53202 in whatever bar you ended up in, because it was near a bus stop.
This is the big soft underbelly of being a writer for a living.
As the lift reached bottom, Benson’s frame reached its full weight of
ninety-two kilos. Four more than when he’d hung up his jersey five years
earlier, but nobody gave him guff about hoarding calories. He wore it along
with a lot of lean muscle he maintained in the gym and with a morning run
around the habitat. Some habits died hard.
[...]
Benson whistled softly. The room was at least twice the size of his own,
with spiral stairs off in the corner leading to another level. It had a full
kitchen, complete with breakfast bar.
[...]
“Unbelievable,” Benson muttered. He’d only gotten an apartment with a
stand-up shower with his last promotion. The rest of the cattle had to make
do with sonic showers and UV sterilizers.
[...]
Never mind that every last
person on board the Ark was a direct descendant of the fifty thousand
smartest, strongest, healthiest people among the ten billion living on Earth
when the end came.
Of course, everybody knew the cattle’s name for their crew: floaters,
because they spent most of their time in microgravity in the command and
engineering modules, and because of the ever-annoying turd that was too
full of fat to flush properly.
How the fuck he never lost his front teeth in his entire life?
I feel bad for all the poor fucks who ever were in his way, baristas, bartenders, cashiers, waiters, grocers, etc.
Considering the fact that his fast food addiction has reached the point where he deemed it to be necessary to state to law enforcement, while handcuffed & wearing an ill-fitting bathrobe, i might add, that he indeed, does not produce his own pepperoni, implying he has a whole supply chain set up to feed his needs. You're surprised that he never got his teeth kicked in, I'm surprised his teeth haven't been worn out from excessive use yet.
