Terry Thompson, Hope You Read Dante’s “Inferno”, You Asshole

Because you are going straight to the 7th Level.  You are not going to pass GO, you will not collect $200.  You are going to be skull-fucked in an eternal hell fire.  You cowardly, putrid, diseased rhinoceros pizzle.  I was so saddened, and I mean like end of Old Yeller saddened, when I found out you successfully killed yourself.  I’d envisioned you being raped savagely and repeatedly by grizzly bears and lions before one of them dealt the death blow to your jugular.  But alas you are nothing but a selfish cunt who has destroyed 4 dozen wild animals that never did shit to you.  I want to rail against Sheriff Lutz and his deputies who killed most of the animals, but I wasn’t there.  I doubt a contingency plan was in place for what to do if you encounter 50 exotic wild predators in rural Ohio.  I’m pretty certain that the first responders with the assault rifles were like little kids on Christmas morning when they found out they could indiscriminately kill a shitload of big game animals that would otherwise require them to pay about $500,000 and go to either British Columbia or Africa.  But I wasn’t sitting there with them in the rain staring down a grizzly bear, so I’ll refrain from harping on this point.  I wish calls could have been made while the 25 animals still on the site were just hanging out next to their cages to see how long it would take for an appropriate response team to arrive and deal with them.  But again, I am neither charged with protecting the human citizenry of Zanesville nor was I in a Mexican staring contest with a lion.  Fault lies with the state of Ohio for allowing people to keep exotic pets, and with Terry Thompson, the raging fuckface of the year who is too big a pussy to face the music.  If you were really an animal “rescuer”, then I’m quite certain you would not have released all these animals into their certain doom before you canceled yourself.  And I’m pretty sure you were hoping they took a few humans down along the way.  The only good news to come out of this sad story is that you are fucking dead and no one is going to have to deal with your loser ass ever again.  Rest In whatever the opposite of Peace is.  Dick.

I like animals more than humans, and it isn’t a close contest.  If a golden retriever and some dude I don’t know are both about to wash over Niagara Falls, and I have only one stick to extend and save one of them….well, lets just say some family is going to be really happy to get their dog back. 

About Zach

Male homo sapien. Warrior poet. I live in Chicago with one wife, one offspring, and Scout the dog. I enjoy various stuff. Besides skinny skiing and going to bullfights on acid, I also enjoy running, reading, drinking, eating and procrastinating on many things, such as starting this blog. I have a mom, a dad, and a younger brother who recently produced a sister-in-law. I'm the only person in my family, sister-in-law included, who doesn't have a post-graduate degree. I guess that makes me special. I grew up in a small to medium sized town in the middle of Ohio. In fact the even smaller town next door has a sign which reads "The Geographic Center of Ohio". Given this is what they choose to boast you can only imagine how exciting that town is. My town is infinitely cooler. For example on weekend nights people from my town and the surrounding villages and hamlets converge on the public square to "cruise" in their souped-up mini trucks, some bearing Confederate flags, despite growing up and living rather safely north of the Mason-Dixon line. This is high-minded stuff we're talking about here. I graduated sometime during the Clinton presidency from the local high school where I played football and participated in absolutely nothing else. This strategy paid huge dividends when I applied to numerous colleges on the eastern seaboard which were highly selective. When you show up to the admissions table with "HIgh School Football and Nothing Else" on your application, you get respect. After graduating from Ohio University with a degree in Economics that I've used for absolutely nothing, I moved to Boston. Boston is a lovely city. I was doing things I'm not proud of for beer money and I left after 16 months. My next move was to Chicago and 10+ years later there I still reside. I write this blog for therapeutic reasons. Much like some people paint to relax or smoke crack to unwind after a stressful day, I record my thoughts on Al Gore's World Wide Web for 9 friends, 4 family members, 1 person who accidentally clicked through after an unsuccessful Google search for something else, and a guy named Patriot1 who lives in a silver Air Stream in the Nevada desert and broadcasts his own radio show. Is there a point to all of this? I doubt it. Years ago and in a galaxy far, far away (College Park, Maryland, then Athens, Ohio) I was toying with the idea of being a journalism major. I enjoyed writing so it seemed the obvious fit. Then I attended career day and learned that journalism majors could look forward to a salary of $EA,TSH.IT per year with the promise of a fatal heart attack at 47 years of age. I'm not falling for that trick, I told them (them being no one, and told being saying it in my own mind in the shower). Approximately 15 years later here I sit declared the big winner in that battle: I never made any money doing anything else and now I'm writing entirely for free. So suck balls, journalism career day. The views expressed in this website are mine and mine entirely. I don't wish to be an even bigger black eye to my family than I probably already am. As a result of this I will never be able to run for public office and I accept that reality. But this website is a very dignified, well-dressed skeleton full of witty retorts and honorable deeds compared to the disheveled, stenching, staggering and loud skeletons who would come marching out of the closet to White Zombie's "Thunderkiss '65" if they ever unearthed the college years. So enjoy your train ride, your hangover day at work, your AA meeting or your dump. I'm here to serve.
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