|Fire Danger: CATASTROPHIC (delete)
| EXTREME HATE WARNING!|
This Page Hates you. You will be hated by one person every second you're on this page.
Hate' is one of the few little joys in life which is still not even taxed, or made way more cheaply by slave labor in Chinese sweat-shops.
A "Brief" History Of The Origins of Hate
Once upon a time deep in the gayest forest, beyond the nectar nest, past the gumdrop men, and down in sweet pit there lived a kind old bitch who grew the most delicious candied carrots that ever could be grown. Well one day Finkle the Rabbit and his friends sniffed out the succulent scent of these delicious orange delicacies, and helped themselves to their fill of candied carrots.
Late in the day when the Gnome, Gnomey G. Gnomestein returned from town from a long day of shopping for women's undergarments for purposes he would rather not discuss, he was dismayed to find his carrot patch decimated. 'Oh me oh my! Who would eat all my candied carrots that took a whole season to grow?!? Ah, Woe is me.'
'Woe is you is right, you selfish motherfucker. Damn straight we got our eat on with your carrots, how you like me now bitch?' Yelled Finkle the Rabbit, a regular rotten young rigger of a rabbit. Then they gave Gnomey the middle digit and ran off. Gnomey did not know what do do, he had never had anyone steal from him before, as he was quite generous, and being called selfish stunned him.
And since the anger grew in him and he could not catch the rabbits to punish them, his sadness turned to anger, and retribution thwarted, his anger turned into a new feeling; murderous rage. Not only had they stolen from him, they had taunted, humiliated and snickered at him, then ran away like cowards. This caused the core of his being to light up like a white hot poker, in a way he had not way to describe. In his rantings to relieve himself of the anger (As Gnomes should never be angry - unless you have a Gareth close by, as they are known to be the Underpants Gnomes greates enemy) he screamed gibberish of which one word was hate.
Hate was the word he and the world would from now on use.
He then went inside and tuned up his crossbow with the poison bolts, hoping soon to skewer a young rabbit in the face.
To be continued...
But wait! There's more to come...
Bogus pseudo-scientist's and alternative spiritual guru's predict, in the future hate technology will advance to the point where we will be able to power automobiles, lawnmowers and vibrators with the sheer power of hatred. Sith Lords will be paid handsomely to sit in power plants and just think about that guy who AWP'ed him on Counterstrike.
In addition, we will be using the worlds surplus hate to export to help feed the Martian-masses on Mars. Actually I meant grapes, but I am not strong in the area of speling. Or in fruit-lore or astrology. Or in anythin', for that matter. hate is a strong word you frickin frickers AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA