Post-Modern Drunk: Hate Speech
Okay, let's just clear something up right here, because I don't think you're getting it. Just because I call you a "disgusting fat fuck," doesn't mean I hate everyone who is obese. Accurately labelling you The Amazing Tardster does not mean I hate everyone who has an extra chromosome or two, or everyone as mentally deficient as you are. When I describe you as "gayer than a tree full of monkeys on nitrous oxide," there's no special opprobrium aimed at the GLBT community as a whole.

What I'm trying to convey here to you, you greenish discharge, is that I don't like you. These epithets do not necessarily contain the reasons for this dislike--merely hurtful words to let you understand I detest you. If I'm lucky, they might wound you a little, but that's all the work I demand of them. When I call you an "unctuous little prick," it's not at all oily pricks I'm opposed to, nor am I offended by all "cocksuckers," despite the rage you heard when I christened you thus.

I am, as a rule, generally opposed to all "assholes," "fucksticks," "fuckbags," and "fuckrags," although I do try to judge them on a case by case basis. When I call you a "donkey-raping shit-eater," I'm not out-right condemning coprophagia, although the rape does seem a bit much to me.

All I'm trying to say is: when i call you a "mackerel snapper," don't condemn me for my perceived anti-papist sentiment. Rather, look back on your actions and try to understand your essential douchebaggery. That is why I think you are floating fragment of feces polluting the waters of humankind, waiting to be flushed out of my sight--not any innate dislike for a race, creed, orientation, color, etc.

So yeah, I guess you could call it hate speech. But you realize you really do deserve it, right?

Putz.

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