An Impression Worth A Fuck

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Your business card is your first and sometimes only fucking opportunity to make a good, honest impression.  Not having a fucking business card at all is no longer an option. In a world of endless networking opportunities, we need to have a fucking seamless way to exchange information.

More than anything, you want your fucking business card to reflect who you fucking are and what you fucking represent. Your business card should be a direct reflection of your own fucking personality and leave a good first impression with all the fucking people you give it to.

Many times, your fucking business card can be what they use to remember you. Less can be more when designing a fucking business card. Clean lines, neutral color schemes and straight to the point informational text is what works for most fucking people. This style is fucking great for individuals wanting to exemplify professionalism and fucking simplicity. These fucking people are looking for a simple, yet effective way to make fucking lifelong contacts and build fucking reliable relationships.

Now, I must admit, I re-wrote what I’m sure was a great blast e-mail advertising scheme, but I had no choice, I had to do it. But, wait, as y’all can see above, I already have a great fucking business card! However, those of y’all with no sense of humor may have missed my point so I will give it to y’all simple, people don’t want fluff and bullshit, they want you to keep it fucking real. Sometimes simplicity is the best answer.

Can you tell I tire easily of fucking spam e-mail, the unsolicited barrage of shit that nobody gives a fuck about? But, by all means, if you and your business rely on business cards, do it right and make sure you’re not selling a cart of bullshit.

Random Callers Are The Best

Over the past week I have been getting phone calls on my cell phone, no big deal since it is the only way you are going to talk to me unless we are face to face. Not only is it my “home phone” number but it is also my work contact phone number. Needless to say, I get allot of phone calls from numbers I don’t know personally, and since it is used for work I usually answer all calls. In the rare occasion I choose to ignore your call then it is for one of two reasons, either I’m busy or you have an out of state number. Typically I’m not hiding from phone calls, you know, like bill collectors, in that regard I seem to have lucked out. Anyway, usually, unless you are my employer, and you don’t leave me a voicemail, I’m not going to return your call. You called me, leave a fucking message about what you were calling for or I consider it not too damn important. I’m just saying. 99% of the time people call, don’t leave a message, but then text me, which is even better. So, this Houston number keeps calling, so finally last night answered it, my gift since in the 11 times they called me they left no message, well I say no message, they would let it go to voicemail just long enough for them to hang up after silence, giving me a voicemail icon to go check only to hear NOTHING. When I answered the call I also recorded the call, the following is a transcribed text version of what was said.

Me: Hello

Caller: (crickets)

Me: Hello

Caller: (more crickets)

Me: HELLO MOTHERFUCKERS HELLO!

Caller: Excuse me?

Me: Look motherfucker, you keep calling me, what’s on your mind?

Caller: Please wait…….. (places me on hold)

Me: Really? Call me, put me on hold, and make me listen to Kenny G? You fucking suck balls!

Me: (2 minutes into it) Hello?

Caller: (after I was on hold 6 minute) Is this Mr. Scorpion? (used my real name)

Me: Yes. Why?

Caller: Can you verify your mailing address?

Me: No. Why?

Caller: We need to verify who you are. Address please?

Me: No, I need to verify who you are. What company are you calling from?

Caller: Sir, before we can continue this conversation we need to verify your identity. Can we proceed with your address, street number first?

Me: No, we cannot. You tell me who you are and what you want or you can go fuck yourself.

Caller: Sir, we are trying to identify you are the person we have in our records.

Me: Well, what do your records say? If you get it right I will tell you, deal?

Caller: Sir, it doesn’t work this way. Address?

Me: Well, ok, thanks for calling, we’re fucking done here.

Caller: Please hold……..

Me: What the fuck! (I ended the call)

Within 30 seconds my phone is ringing once again, same number.

Me: What in the fuck do you want?

Caller: My name is Ann, I understand we are having problems identifying you so we can move forward.

Me: What in the fuck are you talking about? Who are you Ann?

Ann: I’m the manager here, you were speaking with Rebecca earlier, she mentioned there is a problem with you cooperating with the identification protocol and I have taken over to assist in the process.

Me: Why in the fuck are you calling me, repeatedly all week, twice a day, every day, never leaving a message? Can you tell me, is this part of your fucked up protocol?

Ann: Sir, look, we are a company hired by Ford Motor Company to gather information about the individuals purchasing experience.

Me: I didn’t buy anything from Ford.

Ann: Our records show you recently purchased a 2014 Ford Mustang, is that information correct?

Me: Yes, but I bought it from a Kia dealership, it is a used Mustang.

Ann: Yes sir, we understand that you didn’t purchase it directly from a Ford dealership, however your purchase records are forwarded to Ford for many purposes like factory warranty and statistical reasons.

Me: Ok, why all the cloak and dagger bullshit, why not identify yourselves first, then ask me questions?

Ann: If you would so kind to verify your address for me sir? We show you live at the following address (she tells it to me). Is this information correct?

Me: Yes, it is correct.

Ann: Your phone number is xxx-xxx-xxxx?

Me: Isn’t that the number y’all keep dialing?

Ann: Yes sir. (followed by a dramatic pause)

Me: Are we done?

Ann: No sir, we have been trying to talk with you to see how you are liking your new car.

Me: I like it fine. Anything else?

Ann: Is this your first Ford purchase?

Me: No

Ann: (after a long pause) If you don’t mind, would you like to share what other Fords you have purchased in the past?

Me: Look, I’m in the middle of cooking dinner for my family and myself, is this really necessary? Yes, guilty, I like Ford, Ford is great, if I was a woman then this Ford Mustang would make my pussy all dripping wet.

Ann: Sir?

Me: Ann?

Ann: Sir, you caught me a little off guard with your last comment. You are aware we record these conversations for training purposes, correct?

Me: Yes

Ann: If I told you that in our appreciation for speaking with us that I have a paid trip to offer to you, would you be pleased to here about it? All I need to finalize this package is to ask you a few more questions. Can we continue?

Me: So, Ann, the entire purpose to this phone call was to politely tell me that my information was given or sold to your marketing company for other purposes than to see if Ford makes me weak at the knees?

Ann: Sir, I assure you that we received your information legally.

Me: Buuuuuullllllllllllllshit Ann.

Ann: I would like to tell you about your complimentary trip now if that’s ok?

Me: Sure, why not, hurry up, dinner is almost done, you got about 7 minutes.

Ann: Las Vegas or Atlantic City?

Me: Vegas

Ann: I have two first class round trip airline tickets, a rental car voucher for the 7 days you and your spouse will be in Las Vegas, it is good for up to $150.00 per day. Included is a preloaded Visa with $1500.00 for gas and other expenses. You will be staying at the MGM Grand with two free meals for two each day of your stay. You and your spouse will each receive $200.00 in house chips for use in the casino. Any questions?

Me: Yes, I don’t fly.

Ann: Meaning?

Me: I’m not going to fly to Las Vegas. Period. I don’t fly.

Ann: I’m not following you.

Me: Skip the flight, I’ll drive. a rental will be cheaper on y’all any way.

Ann: Please hold…………

Me: Noooooo…….. Fuck……… Bitch……..

Ann: I have checked with the booking agency, those arrangements can be made for you to accommodate your needs. You’ll need to visit our office to pick up your package, the changes can be made at that time. When would you like to pick up your package so I can schedule your appointment?

Me: Saturday is fine.

Ann: Perfect, I will put you down for 8 am, will that work for you?

Me: Sure

Ann: Please be sure to bring two forms of ID for you and your wife to the appointment.

Me: Does my wife need to be present?

Ann: Yes sir.

Me: Can I get the address?

Ann: Actually, we are not allowed to give that information over the phone. Please provide me with your email address. I will send you the information described above, please print to bring with you, and the address to claim address will be included.

Me: Anything else I need to know?

Ann: No sir, we hope you enjoy your new Mustang and your trip to Las Vegas.

Me: So….. we’re done?

Ann: Yes sir, enjoy your dinner. (Call ended)

So, I did get the email as she discussed. But, and its a big fucking but, the address is at the corner of an open field and an abandoned business. First I googled it so I knew where I was going. Unsettled by what shows in google maps, I sent my future son-in-law there this morning on his way to work, he confirmed that there is nothing there except the building being torn down. When I called the number that had been calling me I got no answer, just rings and rings. I have called several times, nobody’s home. Hmmm, seems like the pile of bullshit just keeps getting deeper and deeper. The email came from donotreply@mailmixmail.net and when I emailed it back it just bounced with a server reply that the email is not valid. No shit Sherlock! I also contacted my cell service provider to put in a complaint of the number and I was told it isn’t even a valid number. Fuck it, block it anyway.

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What have we learned? Well, after wasting 18 minutes of my life that I will never get back, I have found this is another reason I dislike giving out my phone number or email address to anyone for any reason. Trust me, your information is being sold, traded, or given away whether you consent to it or not. Personally I don’t think it was the Kia dealership doing it on “purpose”, but records of the purchase with my personal information were only given at the dealership at the time of purchase. Who really knows any more, really. I can’t wait until these gigafucks call me back to inform me I missed my fucking “appointment” or to follow up with me. Then it will be time to have fun. I will assume they will not call, but that’s just my opinion. Any of y’all have any good phishing stories? I have a special place in my heart, which is black and cold, for telemarketers and professional phishers. Y’all suck you bunch of troubled fucks! Get a real job, like a third party bill collector or something respectable. With that, I’m done, think I’ll put up a sign “Gone Phishing” and take the weekend off.

Beware Of This Message?

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I would like to talk about this message, it’s anatomy, and why I find humor in bullshit like this. First question that comes to my mind is why should I give a fuck to begin with. But then I remember that I read an article a few months back that listed out all the international statistics, based on reports supposedly, about theft, fraud, and identity theft. The article sited examples of what to look for in an email if you can’t immediately figure out that your being phished for personal information. This email was sent to me last week, I’m just now getting to it by the way, so I decided to write a little bit about these kinds of emails, the people that send them, and of course the people that reply with their personal information.

Number one flag for me is I know for a fact of personal experience that when you are named in a will being read publicly or privately you’re notified by certified mail. Number two flag is not many of us have someone in the hierarchy of the family tree who will leave monies to you upon their death. OK, it’s not likely in my own personal family tree, but maybe yours is different. Flag number three is that greed is part of being human. Anyway, you get the jist of what I’m saying.

For fun I like to play a game, I like googling every bit of the information and read what others have had to say, to see if the people’s name are actually prior identity theft victims, complaints about the emails used, and so in and so forth. Since I have already played the game, which was very twisted to say the very least, I thought I would let readers play and find their own answers. Kind of like a treasure hunt but resulting in what seems to be a wild goose chase. You don’t need to reply your findings, but I would like to know your personal opinion on these types of emails.

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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T.S.O.T.S.B. Agreement For Entry

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The Sting Of The Scorpion Blog (T.S.O.T.S.B.), a personal blog, at times it will contain some adult and/or mature content. This content may include, but is not limited to, images, language, ideas, opinions, stories, or the blog’s content in general. Entering T.S.O.T.S.B. is prohibited if you are visiting T.S.O.T.S.B. from the jurisdiction of any municipality, city, state, country, or other governmental entity where viewing adult content is prohibited by law. You can feel free to leave now if visiting this blog is prohibited by law, if you will be offended by adult and/or mature content, if real life scenarios offend you, or if you dislike sarcastic humor. Enter T.S.O.T.S.B. only if you are willing to accept the following agreement:

AGREEMENT FOR T.S.O.T.S.B. ENTRY

By accepting this Agreement and entering T.S.O.T.S.B. I hereby represent and warrant that the following statements are true and accurate:

I am personally mature enough to not be easily offended by the pictures displayed, the sometimes course language that is used, or language written in a sarcastic manner.

I am not visiting this website from the jurisdiction of any municipality, city, state, country, or other governmental entity where viewing mature content is prohibited by law. I understand the standards and laws of the community from whence I am visiting T.S.O.T.S.B., and I have made every reasonable effort to determine whether viewing the described content is legal. Furthermore, I have determined that it is legal for me to visit T.S.O.T.S.B. and choose to continue.

I am entering T.S.O.T.S.B. regardless of the content, by choice and I do not find mature content offensive or objectionable. I believe that as an adult I have the right to choose what I see and read, and I am choosing to enter T.S.O.T.S.B. under my own free will and know I have the option to leave at any time.

By entering The Sting Of The Scorpion Blog, I agree to release, discharge, and hold harmless the providers, owners and creators of this blog from any and all liability which might arise from viewing or reading the mentioned materials on this blog.

I will not copy, upload, transmit, transfer, distribute, publish, modify, or use for any commercial or other purpose any of the material on this website, including the underlying HTML source code, without permission in writing and signed by the owner of the material.

I further understand that re-blogging is acceptable as long as no modification is made to the post. Re-blogging any content from T.S.O.T.S.B. constitutes my full understanding of this Agreement in it’s entirety.

Directly accessing T.S.O.T.S.B. as well as any other pages within this blog constitutes an implicit acceptance of this Agreement.

If I visit T.S.O.T.S.B. in violation of this Agreement, I understand I may be in violation of local, state, federal, international or other laws and will be subject to having this discovery reported.

It is understood that comments are allowed on every post from the general public except where noted on certain occasions. I understand that spam comments will be reported and deleted for the common good of all of the visitors to T.S.O.T.S.B. which can and will result in being barred or banned from ever leaving further comments.

I am making the choice now, to enter or to leave, it is my personal choice, and therefore I shall be held accountable.

I have read this entire Agreement and I agree to be indiscriminately bound by it.

(This agreement will be a permanent tab found at the very top of this blog for current and future reference.)

What Happens To The Emails?

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Some of my loyal emailers have recently asked what do I do with all of my emails that aren’t spam. Well, allot actually, let me explain. First I get rid of any more spam that snuck through, to include emails using a disposable email address trying to be clever. Secondly, I review the remaining subject lines looking for specifics such as submissions for The Magic Weekend, picture submissions, and other things I would immediately recognize, that is generally 100+ alone. Then, I review the notifications from wordpress, google+, facebook, and twitter. The remaining 50 or so emails are usually complaints or someone bitching me out for some reason or another, these are generally where I get my morning laugh from. Once I have sorted them all then I begin reading everything that has made the cuts. I reply to the one that require replies and either archive or delete the others. And then, sometimes, like today, I share an email which I felt was worth sharing.

We all know I have a few blog-stalkers and haters, but I truly have actual fans as well. There are times a post I have done prompts someone to go the extra step and email me about there thoughts. I generally only get emails I’m English or broken English so life is simple for me, but today I had one in Portuguese which I knew about every tenth word, so I had google translate it for me. The most of the email was questioning why I have never wrote her back, ever, about 15 emails in the last year, and was I mad at her for a particular reason. Apparently I have been deleting her emails assuming they were spam, as 95% of them ate in a foreign language to begin with. She went on to explain that she has repeatedly sent in her Magic Weekend story, including pictures, from her holiday in Florida. Baffled, I replied and asked her to put The Magic Weekend in the subject line and for sure I would get it the next time. About an hour later it arrived, the entire email in English, and an additional short note apologizing for the oversight and any misunderstanding. So, since she waited so long, hers will be the next in line for me to do today. Be looking for it.

In the end all I can do is ask people to use the subject line and it really helps when its in English. No telling how many emails I have dismissed as spam because of this happening. From now on I will look closer before deleting it as spam.

WTF Are You Fuckers Smoking?

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For one short moment last night I was close to just shutting this fucking blog down, throwing in the towel, and let the sheeple fucktards move in to take over. It was a momentary lapse in my own fucking common sense to say the very least. If y’all really must know why I created, maintain, and update this blog, its real simple, because Fuck You, that’s why. I hate the fucking question, “what is the focus or purpose of The Sting Of The Scorpion?” Why? Because its impossible to post one motherfucking thing on any topic and not have 100 crawling up my ass bitching and complaining. Go cry to your fucking momma because I don’t give a flying fuck. I do this blog for “entertainment” mostly, it has never been here to please one group of people or another, ever. Even though I attempt to entertain people here with my sophomoric sarcasm there is also a great deal posted about things going on in my own fucking life, some good & some bad, some humorous & some on the more serious side, some that is relevant to many & some that only will matter to me, but all of it is done because I make time to pull my phone out and make time to keep my blog active with new posts. But nooooooo, I get bashed because I’m a sick twisted fucker who belongs in a straight jacket locked up in a tiny padded room. Well, fuck you, I’m not, I’m here posting whatever in the fuck I choose because that is what I fucking want to do when and how I fucking want to do it. You have choices and one if them is to not to click the link which leads you here. Once you are here you have the choice to leave as well if The Sting Of The Scorpion isn’t your fucking cup of tea. Either way, if you stay or if you leave, The Sting Of The Scorpion will still be here.

So, let’s explore what has your panties all wadded up in your cunt this time. If that just offended you then its because you know I am talking directly to you so you can stop guessing in your head who I am pointing out. Its fucking you! First I would like to address the fucknuggets who, so colorfully, addressed a post I did yesterday about my real life backyard hog invaders. Just because I own guns (yes multiple guns) doesn’t mean I wish to hunt and kill everything that walks this planet. Just because I hunt doesn’t mean I wish to hunt and kill everything on this planet. It does mean, however, that I have options, not that I’m an indiscriminate killer of all the cutesy wutsey creatures which roam in the wild. But then again, some of us call some of those humble creatures fucking dinner, sorry to be the one to inform you, but some if us hunt for our food. However, in that particular post I never mentioned hunting the sow hog pictured, I just want to help move it on along, but I will win one way or another because I have options. Don’t hunt? I really don’t care. Don’t eat meat? I really don’t care. Don’t like guns? I really don’t care. I will protect my family and property against man and beast because that is the kind of person I am. Do I speak for everyfuckingbody? Nope, just for myself. Hogs are dirty destructive beasts who cost property owners allot of freaking money every year. I am happy for those of y’all who live places where there aren’t any invasive vermon threatening who you love and what you own.

Yes, in real life, fuck and variables of the word fuck are my favorite words. Yes, my blog tends to reflect directly on how I speak. Yes, I am a grumpy fucking bastard who is tired of people’s bullshit in real life too, this isn’t some fucked up twisted freak show you are watching here, some of it is my life as well. Yes, I know I have my autocorrecting spell checker off since I am the one who knows what I want to say and how I want to say it. Moving on now I would like to address something, that I was told is holy and sacred, my use of church signs over the last couple of days. Boothefuckhoo if you thought they were in “bad taste” because I thought it was a hilarious idea. Did they get your attention? Mission accomplished. Did you find them personally unique to The Sting Of The Scorpion? Mission accomplished. Did the fact that a person who despises organized religion used a church sign to promote his blog throw you a curve ball? Mission accomplished. Were you fucking offended? Well, that’s all on you, maybe you are too sensitive to be here in the first place. By the way, for those of y’all wondering, sometimes I do think that there needs to be a “complete guide” to The Sting Of The Scorpion because many if y’all just do not have the mental capacity to have an open mind about the life we live or the planet we live on or the societies we are a part of because some people choose to have their eyes and ears shut but have their big fucking mouths open. This blog does not focus on organized religion or politics because there is absolutely no desire to vommit up the vile that everyone seems to already be so in tune with. Yes, I stab at the obviously ignorant shit one sees in the news on occasion, but it isn’t a staple here. No, we probably do not share the opinions I might have about our fellow human beings and that’s okay with me because I think you need to have your own opinions and conclusions on people and life. We are individuals for fucks sake.

Now let’s talk about you slimy fucking spammer bitches. Do you know that I delete 200+ bogus spam bullshit comments every fucking morning? No? You thought you were the only one spamming The Sting Of The Scorpion? Wrong. You idiots don’t get it. This is not a porn site. This is not an international dating site. This is not an anti-gun site. This is not an anti-gay site. This is not a skinhead site. We are not interested in the “legal drugs” you have to offer. We do not have any friends or family members whose benefits we wish to seek laundered out of a third world country and all you need is our banking information to make us millionaires. No, I don’t need hints in vaginal freshness. No, I don’t need the next best thing to Viagra or the no name generic drug which I can buy from Mexico or Canada. No, I do not need help finding Jesus Christ. No, I am not going to vote for you. No, I am not seeking help cleaning up the looks of my website. These are just examples of the regular bullshit that the spammers consider relevant to any given post done here. My favorite tho is the multiple ads I get on the prevention and care for the wounds caused by, wait for it………………..scorpion stings! We don’t advertise here, we don’t do this for fame or money, we are here providing all of this at no cost to the reader, its free.

In the end, read/view/skim The Sting Of The Scorpion for whatever your reasons might be at that given moment. Yes, I know this blog is an acquired taste and not everyone will always be happy about it. Oh well, I don’t really fucking care. Y’all come back for some reason and that is enough for me. Oh, as far as the recommendation that I perform a complete overhaul to reformat this blog, y’all can go to hell because The Sting Of The Scorpion will remain as it is and always has been.

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