- Joined
- Oct 5, 2024
With the time he was spending in the Zoosadist thread, I have deep concerns about what the extra 30+ paragraphs is going to be about...
Zoosadist Claudio Hernández Castañeda / FakeAFClausMystery / ClausMystery / ClausWritesThings / ClausofLions / Yayotzin / Yayofangamer / Gonebythedust - Mexican Furfaggot. Disowned Synthcel. Cub Fur Author. Pseudo-Diety of the Popufurs. Hates Gringos. Bisexual Shapeshifter. The Raped. Tracheal Tube Tard. Pink Triangle Halal. Total OPsec Disaster. A Lesson in Lurking. Still The Same Nigger 10 Years later.
- Thread starter Sperg Spectating
- Start date
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- Joined
- Apr 20, 2025
BRO welcome back!
I was worried you got snatched up in one of those crazy ICE riots, I saw a dude in a wheelchair not keeping up with the crowd running and worried it was you.
I was worried you got snatched up in one of those crazy ICE riots, I saw a dude in a wheelchair not keeping up with the crowd running and worried it was you.
- Joined
- Apr 4, 2018
So did this retard ever restore his 800GB clop folder? Never change Claudio, we know you aren't capable of it.
- Joined
- May 23, 2019
@Claudio Hernández Castañeda
Miho, you don't need any of those files. All you need to know is that you are a gay Mexican cat rapist who is sexually attracted to underage cartoon characters. Just screenshot this post and set it to your desktop background. That's all you need.
Miho, you don't need any of those files. All you need to know is that you are a gay Mexican cat rapist who is sexually attracted to underage cartoon characters. Just screenshot this post and set it to your desktop background. That's all you need.
- Joined
- Dec 12, 2022
You heard it here, people, consequences will never be the same.
- Joined
- Aug 6, 2024
Why don't you just kiss our asses?
- Joined
- May 23, 2019
Mmm. Taco flavored kisses.
- Joined
- May 22, 2016
Damn I can't believe I missed another win
- Joined
- May 23, 2019
@Claudio Hernández Castañeda
Claudio, here's a picture I made for you. Think of it as a peace offering.
Claudio, here's a picture I made for you. Think of it as a peace offering.
- Joined
- Jun 7, 2025
this isn't accurate! the puppy's supposed to be a cat instead!
- Joined
- May 23, 2019
Wrong. Claudio rapes cats because he doesn't respect them. He respects and loves the underage dog. That's why they're romantically sharing a milkshake.
- Joined
- Oct 11, 2014
I thought he was roofie-ing the dog, counting on his greater weight to resist the drug long enough for him to mongle it first.
JohnnyGringo
kiwifarms.net
- Joined
- Feb 14, 2023
2 things:
Found more info on Claudio's dad. Apparently he had more blogs linked to his blogger profile. Some are empty, but others some have some content on them
His writing blog , there is an article he wrote called "He perdido a mi hijo y estoy perdido yo.." (I have lost my son, and I am lost") which seems to point towards a messy divorce/custody battle, I'll provide the a machine translation below.
His family history, similar to the Castañeda family one, it goes deep into the history of the Montiel family (On Claudio's paternal grandmother's side). This one is the most recently updated one being updated in 2020.
Emotional Growth Workshop for Adolescents , empty
Wardrobe Angels goes over his work for wardrobe in cinema/theater
His graphics design blog, nothing really interesting but he has some graphic designs he's made
Creativity and Sensibility Workshop for Kids
Story Makers, empty
Recikla2, appears to be a kid's theatrical act.
The other thing I wanted to do is update his archive of YouTube Community Posts
"Does gooning to drawings of your persona while the character itself is a gender bent version of itself count as AGP?" (Archive)
Women's Hospital and Psychiatric Hospital (Archive)
Trans Coloring (Archive)
First World Women and Sigmund (Archive)
Sonic.EXE Sperging (Archive)
"This kind of stuff should be illegal" (Archive)
"Reminder: He said fearmongering is evil" (Archive)
Sacrilegious (Archive)
Found more info on Claudio's dad. Apparently he had more blogs linked to his blogger profile. Some are empty, but others some have some content on them
His writing blog , there is an article he wrote called "He perdido a mi hijo y estoy perdido yo.." (I have lost my son, and I am lost") which seems to point towards a messy divorce/custody battle, I'll provide the a machine translation below.
His family history, similar to the Castañeda family one, it goes deep into the history of the Montiel family (On Claudio's paternal grandmother's side). This one is the most recently updated one being updated in 2020.
Emotional Growth Workshop for Adolescents , empty
Wardrobe Angels goes over his work for wardrobe in cinema/theater
His graphics design blog, nothing really interesting but he has some graphic designs he's made
Creativity and Sensibility Workshop for Kids
Story Makers, empty
Recikla2, appears to be a kid's theatrical act.
I've lost my son, or I don't know if he's been stolen. We were just out for a walk when a scuffle between irresponsible and starving parents forced us to go to a courthouse. There he disappeared, behind some glass in the courtroom. It was only a few seconds. I turned to look at my watch, and when I looked for his eyes, which had previously been connected to mine, crossing the distance that prevented us from being together, just a few seconds before, a sudden flash, and he was gone. His last glances were shifty, fearful, as if pained, perhaps confused, a combination of anger and perhaps hatred, or perhaps sadness and helplessness.
Today marks 10 days since I sent a thousand prayers to receive a sign from him, and I posted 100 posters on his cyber bureau to find out if he's okay. I've even offered a reward to let me see him one more time, at least, or simply to know who has him, or where he is, if he's happy. That would undoubtedly give me peace of mind and the strength to abdicate my search for them and resign, consequently, to their withdrawal from my eyes, my arms, my ears, and my love.
Only those who have lost someone they love know the anguish of not knowing where that person is, in whom our entire love and being are placed. Only those who have gone out searching the streets, asking here and there in a conscientious, and sometimes even absurd and illogical, way, know what it feels like in their guts every time they receive no answers, every time the phone rings, every time a text arrives on their cell phone, every time there's a knock at the door. Only those who have lost a piece of themselves due to their lack of responsibility know how heavy the guilt weighs, the feeling that gnaws at their brains with questions like, Who is he with? What is the poor person going through in that captivity? Is he okay or not? Is he there? Or is he gone? And in the end, it was my fault, no one else's. He's innocent. I was the adult, the one who knows how life works, the one who was supposed to take care of him from the moment he came into my hands. After all, he didn't choose me as his guide, his guardian, his father, that example to follow, the one who supposedly knows what's right and what's wrong, at least more than he does.
Many have offered me a replacement for him, in different ways, and I'm grateful because I know it's with good intentions, although I also know it's with complete unconsciousness, because those kinds of feelings are not replaceable, they can't even be anesthetized momentarily or occasionally, simply because they only happen once in this life, once! Whether you have three or five or a hundred of these wonderful beings. Because each one is unique, irreplaceable. Besides, I only had this one... My son.
I haven't heard from him, and guilt tortures me until it corners me where excuses, any of them, are useless, even nonexistent, because I know what really happened, I know the carelessness was mine... he simply followed his docile instinct, his survivalist nature. I am the one who trusted his teachings. Pride has overcome me. The greatest sin of all: I have dressed him in extreme laxity, proving that my teachings, my care, were mediocre, miserable. And that's why he went in another direction, because anything shone brighter than what I had contributed until then.
I want to leave forever. This pain is unbearable. But what if I leave and someone decides to give him back to me? But what if they don't, what if they decide they can truly give him a better life than I can? And if it's no longer either of those options, why does a third exist, where I, in any case, won't be able to influence it anyway?
Yes, I know, everything comes at a price in this life, and I imagine that's what I'm paying for, and that forces me to take a closer look at my miseries, how insignificantly human I've been. What a failure of a person, and what a cruel sentence fate has imposed on me. Surely, and I hope, it's a fair measure of what I've done. I don't want to believe, and I don't believe it, in fact, that in the future, someone will appear saying, "Sorry, the debt wasn't that bad." This life, my life, is also made of ironies. I'm leaving, it's time to walk again the streets where we walked so many times, where I saw him grow up during so many years of going out together, of taking him to his many little activities, school, therapy, the park, to take his dogs for walks... I go to the street whoever it takes, maybe they'll let him go, or he'll escape, or they'll take him out for a walk and I'll see him, there's a possibility, why not? Yes, it's also possible that he won't recognize me anymore, or won't want to recognize me, yes maybe, but if it's because he's happy, great, I'll gladly accept it, but if it's because I'm worse than the place where they detained him by force, that would be devastating, devastating, what sense would there be in continuing to wait then...
Today marks 10 days since I sent a thousand prayers to receive a sign from him, and I posted 100 posters on his cyber bureau to find out if he's okay. I've even offered a reward to let me see him one more time, at least, or simply to know who has him, or where he is, if he's happy. That would undoubtedly give me peace of mind and the strength to abdicate my search for them and resign, consequently, to their withdrawal from my eyes, my arms, my ears, and my love.
Only those who have lost someone they love know the anguish of not knowing where that person is, in whom our entire love and being are placed. Only those who have gone out searching the streets, asking here and there in a conscientious, and sometimes even absurd and illogical, way, know what it feels like in their guts every time they receive no answers, every time the phone rings, every time a text arrives on their cell phone, every time there's a knock at the door. Only those who have lost a piece of themselves due to their lack of responsibility know how heavy the guilt weighs, the feeling that gnaws at their brains with questions like, Who is he with? What is the poor person going through in that captivity? Is he okay or not? Is he there? Or is he gone? And in the end, it was my fault, no one else's. He's innocent. I was the adult, the one who knows how life works, the one who was supposed to take care of him from the moment he came into my hands. After all, he didn't choose me as his guide, his guardian, his father, that example to follow, the one who supposedly knows what's right and what's wrong, at least more than he does.
Many have offered me a replacement for him, in different ways, and I'm grateful because I know it's with good intentions, although I also know it's with complete unconsciousness, because those kinds of feelings are not replaceable, they can't even be anesthetized momentarily or occasionally, simply because they only happen once in this life, once! Whether you have three or five or a hundred of these wonderful beings. Because each one is unique, irreplaceable. Besides, I only had this one... My son.
I haven't heard from him, and guilt tortures me until it corners me where excuses, any of them, are useless, even nonexistent, because I know what really happened, I know the carelessness was mine... he simply followed his docile instinct, his survivalist nature. I am the one who trusted his teachings. Pride has overcome me. The greatest sin of all: I have dressed him in extreme laxity, proving that my teachings, my care, were mediocre, miserable. And that's why he went in another direction, because anything shone brighter than what I had contributed until then.
I want to leave forever. This pain is unbearable. But what if I leave and someone decides to give him back to me? But what if they don't, what if they decide they can truly give him a better life than I can? And if it's no longer either of those options, why does a third exist, where I, in any case, won't be able to influence it anyway?
Yes, I know, everything comes at a price in this life, and I imagine that's what I'm paying for, and that forces me to take a closer look at my miseries, how insignificantly human I've been. What a failure of a person, and what a cruel sentence fate has imposed on me. Surely, and I hope, it's a fair measure of what I've done. I don't want to believe, and I don't believe it, in fact, that in the future, someone will appear saying, "Sorry, the debt wasn't that bad." This life, my life, is also made of ironies. I'm leaving, it's time to walk again the streets where we walked so many times, where I saw him grow up during so many years of going out together, of taking him to his many little activities, school, therapy, the park, to take his dogs for walks... I go to the street whoever it takes, maybe they'll let him go, or he'll escape, or they'll take him out for a walk and I'll see him, there's a possibility, why not? Yes, it's also possible that he won't recognize me anymore, or won't want to recognize me, yes maybe, but if it's because he's happy, great, I'll gladly accept it, but if it's because I'm worse than the place where they detained him by force, that would be devastating, devastating, what sense would there be in continuing to wait then...
The other thing I wanted to do is update his archive of YouTube Community Posts
"Does gooning to drawings of your persona while the character itself is a gender bent version of itself count as AGP?" (Archive)
Women's Hospital and Psychiatric Hospital (Archive)
Trans Coloring (Archive)
First World Women and Sigmund (Archive)
Sonic.EXE Sperging (Archive)
"This kind of stuff should be illegal" (Archive)
"Reminder: He said fearmongering is evil" (Archive)
Sacrilegious (Archive)
Last edited:
- Joined
- May 23, 2019
Don't give up, Claudio's dad! You can find Claudio again! I know it will be difficult but all you need to do is follow the trail of raped cats and you'll be sure to find your degenerate tube throated son.
- Joined
- Apr 8, 2025
HHahahahaahhahaahHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA. Not only you sound like a newfag, but you don't realize I took it from @Ruben Sim's Twitter. So you better not be an hypocrite, and throw shit to him too.
That absolutely doesn't make you look unhinged.
@Sperg Spectating is not sending his best
- Joined
- Dec 15, 2024
Post your 100 paragraph sperg out, retard.
- Joined
- Jun 7, 2025
- Joined
- Aug 13, 2023
I know you're desperate to feel like a WINNER but you should probably wait until he says something other than
That way, you will look very slightly less faggoty than you already are. You're wasting your very limited breath so far.
JohnnyGringo
kiwifarms.net
- Joined
- Feb 14, 2023
I should, but honestly I don't think Ruben Sim tries to pass off as some TradCath, but you on the other hand, you're the one that Bible thumps, trying to pass as a TradCath, trying to pass your family as TradCaths as well. You call us possessed but yet you upload sacrilegious imagery, you bash homosexuality, yet went to a gay anonymous sex club. It's the pot calling the kettle black. Or better yet "Comes Santos y Cagas Diablos".
I only wrote the link as "Sacrilegious", so calm down mongoloid.
He will never release it. He used his mom corrupting his SSD as an excuse, he's hoping we forget all the lies he told us, his 120 year old great grand aunt, him "totally not" raping the cat, his online cub porn collection, the Maya story.
- Joined
- May 23, 2019
What do you sound like? I heard that when your mom hugs you, your tube makes a sound like a squeaky dog toy.
Just kidding. We've heard you voice. You have a speech impediment like a lispy faggot.