That’s Right, We Bad

The older I get, the more I realize what a wise decision I made choosing to present myself as an outlaw, a bad guy. It has liberated me from all manner of worry.

Just think of what folks who try to have people think of them as “good” must go through. They have to wear the right clothes, drive the right car, or not drive at all, worry about what they wear and eat, and god forbid they should say a bad word! Just look at the sort of nonsense Pagans go through, worrying if someone thinks they are, GASP, racist, or gods forbid they should say say something to offend the precious trannies. They make me want to puke!


Me, I don’t give a fuck! And everyone knows it. I say what I mean and I mean what I say. It makes life a hell of a lot easier on me. Yeah, ain’t no way in Hell I’m ever going to get invited to talk at Pantheacon, but those folks can drink piss and die.

There is only one way to walk on eggshells–with hobnailed boots.

And it is so much fun to watch things fall apart. I love being the bad guy.


One Response to “That’s Right, We Bad”

  1. Robert Says:

    That’s cause there are no true witches or pagans anymore they all coward down with their tail between their legs so they could become accepted to society…

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