Being Politically Incorrect: Now Fuck Off

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Where in the fuck do the politically correct morality police get off being my mother? Why in the fuck have they chose to subject me to hundreds of e-mails a week and hundreds of spam comments a week? Who the fuck do these people think they are? What in the fuck do they think they can change about my blog? When in the fuck did I become a fucking interest to the fucking politically correct morality police? F.Y.I., y’all will fucking find the morality police is only one of the many names used to describe the fucked up groups of people whose self-appointed job is to enforce standards of moral behavior and religious adherence among the general public, these bleeding pussies are here to protect us from the real world. Have these fucking freaks of nature been having a spell of moral panic? Is their moral panic over an issue deemed to be a fucking threat to, or shocking to, the sensibilities of “proper” society? How about y’all just have a very tall glass of shut the fuck up for a minute.

If you haven’t fingered it out yet, this is my politically incorrect declaration about the morality police fuctards who feel it is their god given right to bombard the Sting Of The Scorpion Blog with all of the bullshit that they disagree with that I say or I post here. So, let me start off with a big GO FUCK YOURSELF to get this kicked off. What does what I write about have to do with anything in the fucking lonely lives of the morality police? I know what I fucking post and I sleep fucking great at night. In some way I have touched these little bitches  in a special way, like how a girl gets finger fucked for the very first time. I guess because they like the way I touch them that they need to bitch at me like my ex-wife who is, to date, at the very top of my “cunt list”, but these fuctards are a very close second. So I say the word, and many variations, FUCK, does that make me a bad person? I post pictures of women with tattoos and women packing heat because those are things I really fucking like. I regularly talk about how fucked up the VA is because I’m a disabled vet who is a part of that fucking broke system.  Does the fact that I was a bartender at a full nude strip bar (and liked it) a problem because I write about it or because it is an industry that exemplifies gratuitous nudity in exchange for money? It is a historical fact for those followers of the bible that “Jesus Loves Strippers” but that is something that the morality police like to forget.

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Somewhere, somehow, the morality police opened their doors to the anti-meat-anti-hunting-geniuses because they keep trying to tell me hunting to provide meat for my table is wrong. Wrong? It’s wrong? I do not, I have not, and I will not ever condemn a meat free lifestyle if that is the choice you have made. I may not understand your decision and I might joke about your choices, but your choices are yours to make. I would like to think if you want to be left the fuck alone about not eating meat that you should close your fucking piehole about my choice to stalk the meat, kill the meat, smoke the meat, and then eat the meat with my family. Y’all really need to back off this one because it isn’t ever going to fucking change, ever. Never once, however, do these fucktards ever get real specific about what rubbed their pussies the wrong way. Perhaps that is the problem, perhaps it is because of their own experiences that they must warn me that I am on the highway to hell with what I write about. Well, you stupid fucks, I write about what is in my life, around me, or the fucking things I like or dislike. Some of those things are fucked up, some of those things are the fucktards who get so pissed off at me for talking about their beliefs and how they live their life.

I think if I was a bleeding cunt that maybe I would hold that against the rest of the world as well. Is it because you suffer that you want to make others suffer? I was told once by my dad when I was younger to never trust something that can bleed for a week and live. He also warned me of the hypnotic spell the women will put men under, he called this the power of the pussy. He tried to warn me that she with the pussy is who is in charge. It’s true, for the most part, that because you have a pussy you think that all must bow to you, begging your little twat for forgiveness because we were born with a dick. All of the haters I have all have referenced that they are female, not one male has ever emailed me or spammed my blog in anger because of my topics or language. Why do you little bitches think that is? Need a bandaid? Perhaps you are angry with me because I write about your fucked up ways and your fucked up thinking, perhaps when you whip out your grammar Nazi handbook you should show me the part where it says that The sting Of The Scorpion Blog is supposed to give a fuck about spelling or proper sentence fragmentation. Fuck you, I’m not 6. Speaking of which, no, no I don’t think I will ever write with the maturity my age states I should have. I think it is just plain time for you politically correct bleeding pussies to just turn the internet off, turn your computer off, unplug the smart car, and go for a walk. Get outside into the real world with real people. Do keep your hole closed because if you act out in public as you do on the internet you might just not like the reaction you get.

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Where do we go from here? It’s true, I don’t give a fuck about your feelings about what you may find at The Sting Of The Scorpion Blog. Why should I fucking give a shit and really fucking care? Come here if you want, don’t come if you don’t want, either way it doesn’t make a fuck to me because this blog doesn’t pay my fucking bills. In fact, it’s totally free. It’s free hosted, I don’t charge admission, I don’t ask for donations, and I don’t try to sell you stupid shit you don’t want. I do this shit for fun, I do what I do here for my personal entertainment, I write about the things I see or hear because it is fucking fun to do so. What’s even better that somewhere along the way I get to rub some of y’all  pussiy fucktards the wrong way on a very regular basis. Except, nowadays I think we are past the heavy petting, we are past trying to shove three of my fingers thru your granny panties, we are past you not wanting to be touched “there”, no, I think we are to the point where I expose what has really been going on here, because not everyone gets to see you as I do. I know I told you that I wouldn’t tell everyone what a fucking little whore slut you really are. I know you wanted me to be discrete about your little secret of only letting all the guys ass fuck you so you can tell your future husband you truly are a vaginal virgin. Yes, your fucked up little secret is out now, boothefuckhoo. It is also pretty fucking obvious that you suck the cum out right out of that dick after they all pull it out of your ass because all you do is talk shit. So, shove a plug in your gaping asshole because you are dripping anal ooze all over my fucking blog.

Now, get the fuck out. Let the door hit you square in the ass. Don’t stop, don’t look back. All you will see is me bending over blowing you a big fat fucking kiss. I know y’all aren’t capable of listening, that fucking point gets proven time and time again. I get it, you fucking despise and hate me. I know y’all are too fucking stupid to listen. I know y’all will be back, y’all always fucking come back for some reason. Well, just remember I may not appreciate the fact that you suck in all of my fucking oxygen but since you always arrive with your panties pulled so deep into your bleeding cunts, I give y’all a break, because I like freaks, I even like you. So, polish up your badge bitches so you can continue to spread the your fucking legs and let out all of the things that are so wonderful about the fucking morality police. Until the next time we meet please feel free to fucking piss off.

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Not Even Traditions Are Safe From Hate

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Shortly, and I do mean shorty, like within 40 minutes shortly, after publishing Our Family Thanksgiving Tradition the meat eating hunter haters started their barrage of literal crap. I was a prepared because I know their are many people who A) don’t hunt, B) don’t eat meat, and C) think they are better than people who do eat meat and/or hunt or both. I have tried to understand the freakish nature of not hunting, I have explored that subject allot here and in real life as well. I have tried to understand why people who live a meat free life believe that everyone else is doing it wrong. I have tried to consider that when I write about hunting or meat in general that it will not appeal to everyone. I have come to a conclusion bitches, I don’t care what you do in your life, as pathetic as I might think your life is, it is still your life to live, not mine. I have been told by a few friends that by having a blog I open myself up to negative feedback, negative comments, and exposure to negative people. Well, they were right, eventhough I didn’t want to accept that some people are assholes just for the sole purpose of being an asshole. Now, I know my own personal intentions are not to offend people, but I do know that people will go out of their way to be offended because my lifestyle is not theirs. This fact used to concern me and I felt I needed to approach it all with soft gloves all around so everyone would be on an equal playing field. Well, fuck that, fuck it until it bleeds out because the gloves have come off, no more love taps, no more pulling back on my jabs, from this point forward I’m going straight for the juggler. If you don’t like what I say, what I do, how I write, or anything else, be prepared to be splattered all over my blog. Used to be, a big FUCK YOU would suffice. But you bitches are greedy and selfish, you want more, you need more, your over-indulgence has become overly-obvious, and now I plan on turning up the heat hoping you get burnt to a crisp.

One of the latest e-mailers (spammer tracks back to a virus infected website) stated that I needed to blog responsibly. The fucktard went on to explain the I have not been writing responsibly since I invite controversy with every word that is written here. I suppose the fucktard is correct, there are people who, in general, look to be offended. I often remind such fucktards that just because you are offended doesn’t make you right. It doesn’t mean you are wrong either, it just means that you let something I wrote offend you because you look for things to be offend by so you can justify your views. Well, here is my view. Since you made the choice to click the link, no matter where you saw it, and visit here. You might have seen it on WordPress, Blogcatalog, Pinterest, Facebook, or Google+. Those are the 5 places I place a link to updates on my blog. So, since I have to “belong” to each one of those websites and have an account I know I have “members”, “followers”, and “fans”. If you are getting my links then you too are a part of one or more of those five communities. If today, right now, all of my numbers dropped to dead zero I would not close my doors and blow away like dust in the wind. I would continue on, I would continue to do everything the exact same way. Why? Because I have no plans to cater to whiney sniveling crybaby bitches who have nothing better to do with their lives except be on the internet bitching about “content” on somebody’s blog. But, without you, without the grand ol’ fucktard, I would have just a little less to write about because I enjoy exploring the content of e-mails from ill-informed fucktards.

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As I stated above, I had one meat-hater in particular try to explain to me that I was a terrible father for teaching my children barbaric traditions and skills. The fucktard goes on to explain that if we choose to eat meat why can’t we buy it at the store like normal people. So much to cover in those two small sentences. Readers here and people in my personal life know that we are hunters in my family. It has been these skills passed down generation after generation that keeps it alive in our family. My children have the choice, if they don’t want to hunt they do not have to. If they wish not to eat the meat provided by hunting, then they don’t have to. But, I doubt you will ever hear those words from my 3 children or my wife. We buy very little from the grocery store and annually we only buy about 5%-10% of our meat from the store. Why? 1) We don’t need to, 2) we have the means not to, 3) hunting to provide food for the year is the preferred way. One doesn’t get more “free-range” or “fresh” then putting an arrow in it yourself. I know the fucktards think all hunters are barbarians, and in a way, you are half right. We, as a family, are not special in any way, but we don’t trophy hunt, we don’t hunt just to kill something, we eat everything we kill. In my family we are bow hunters traditionally, a skill very few people still posses these days. But lets get back to the e-mail and how us killing our food is wrong. It’s wrong because this fucktards doesn’t agree with hunting or eating meat. I have never really understood, not that I’ve tried real hard, how a person doesn’t eat meat. I can see not hunting by people because most people are too big of a pussy to end the life of an animal. In fact, most people are too fucking lazy to hunt because their little life has consumed them in such a way that all other means besides the grocery stores seems to be a little out there in their opinion. Is that breeding? Is that the way they were raised? Is it because of where they live? Is it because they are comfortable in how ass backwards they live their life. Yes, I consider those who don’t hunt but bitch about hunting ass backwards. you wouldn’t be here if your ancestors were pussies and didn’t hunt to provide meat for their family, if they didn’t grow other food in the gardens, if they weren’t able to use an ax to chop wood, or if they didn’t have the balls to pull the trigger to defend the people and things they love and cherish. If they were all fucktards like we have today none of us would be here right now,

So what if we hunt. So what if we eat meat. So what that my children are well equipped to provide for themselves and others. So what that you are too fucking stupid to wipe the bullshit from your eyes so you can see that none of my life has diddlely dick to do with your life. The only way our paths cross is that you are too fucking stupid not to click the link to my blog. I challenge all the fucktards not to click my links, to un-friend me, to un-follow me, and to un-like me, and just move the fuck on. We will miss you, don’t get me wrong, but I want to help you onto the road to recovery. the first step is to admit you have a problem. Say it out-loud right now. I (state your full name) am a fucktard. I am addicted to being a fucktard. I can’t stop being a fucktard because (fill in the blank) and I am willing to take the first baby step right now to recovery so that one day when I reproduce I do not have fucktard offspring. Repeat that 100 times, look at yourself in the mirror while you repeat it over and over. After you have admitted you are a fucktard and you do have problems, then, and only then, can we move forward to help you shed the wool of being a contained sheeple. One day, one day you will want to hear the popping sound of your head coming out of your own ass. You will smell like shit but you will be happy once you stop looking thru your bullshit-o-vision glasses. Join us now, my brothers and sisters, let us take one another’s hand to have a moment in silent prayer. Whoops, that’s taking it a bit fucking far, their will be no fucking hand holding here. Now, do you feel better? No? Well, I can explain that to your simple simon little peanut fucked brain. That pain you feel in the back of your neck is your fucktard stupidity trying to get out, just let it out. When you see that little fucktard hit the floor then stomp on that fucker, smash it, grind it into the carpet, the wipe your shoes on your lilly white curtains and move the fuck on. Farewell fucktards, we are taking it all back. So, buckle up fucktards, hold on, shut, and get ready to be rode like the little bitches you  are!

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So, while all of you freaks are enjoying a nice Tofurkey Just known my family will be feasting on a smoked turkey provided my son’s dead accurate shot. I don’t knock the vegans and the vegetarians, they are doing their own thing, which is what we do because that is how we live. Be assured, y’all have your own traditions and we have ours. Yes, they might be different, and yes our opinions may differ about the differences, but in the end, we are all here sharing the bounties of this great planet we live on.