Son, we live in a world that has whores, and those whores have to be guarded by men with lists. Who's gonna do it? You? You, dearhunter? I have a greater responsibility than you can possibly fathom. You weep for fucktards and you curse the hookers. You have that luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know, that My list, while pathetic, probably saved me money. And my existence, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, saves other fucktard's money! You don't want the truth, because deep down in places you don't talk about at parties, you
want me writing that list. You
need me writing that list . We use words like "hooktard", "thinck", "taint". We use these words as the backbone of a life spent defending the hobby. You use them as a punchline. I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself to a man who rises and sleeps under the blanket of the very list that I provide, and then questions the manner in which I provide it! I would rather you just said "thanck you", and went on your way. Otherwise, I suggest you see a hooktard, and write a review. Either way, I don't give a damn what you think you are entitled to!