Gibs. #3.

• Furries. I am not a furry. However, I am here to defend them. First of all, they're not called "furfags", you intolerant fucking cock-mutilating cuntrag piece of shit, they're furries. Yeah, some of them are over the top. Some think they are their fursona. But they are the crazy ones. So ignore 'em. The rest of them are cool. Some of them are sex role-players. Hey, that's good and all. We're all entitled to our fetishes. FUCK Encyclopedia Dramatica, I'm glad it's shut down. And don't give me that "What about freedom of speech?" bullshit. There's something even more essential than freedom of speech, and that's not giving people shit about being who they are. So fuck you and your righteous hatred.
• Albums. I have this obsession with assigning the correct album art and information (artist, release year, genre down to sub-genre) to all of the music within my iTunes library. The picture at the bottom of this post should show you what I'm talking about. Frankly, I don't want to have to look at a fuckin' music note while I'm rocking out to some Slayer. And Cannibal Corpse are the kings of awesome album covers, with the exception of the last two albums, which frankly had bland, generic, sucky covers. I love getting lost in in the album's cover and have it be an appropriate representation of the content of the album. Take for example, none other than Slayer's classic album Reign in Blood. That thing looks like a fuckin' medieval tapestry! Or a Hermonious Bosh painting. At this point, I don't really give a shit about spelling.

Now playing: "Stripped, Raped and Strangled" by Cannibal Corpse (The Bleeding, 1994)