I’m Buckminster Shitpants. My real name is Buckminster Brownpants,
but I’ve shit my pants so many times over the past few decades I just
changed my name. Either way, Shitpants, or Brownpants, you are in for a
rude time here. You see, I’m not your average
type of guy. I’m a
roughneck from way
back. I’ve kicked a lot of fucking ass. I’ve
killed several people. I’m not very cultured. And I don’t like
you! So, you can get the fuck out of here- right now- for I fuck you up!
Wherever I’ve been, people have always told me I was something else!
I’m the kind of person that don’t take no shit. In fact, I
don’t care about nobody but myself. Everything I do is
for me, and no one but me. In fact, I’m told that I’m so special I should have
my own home page and that’s one reason you see this here online
thing. I paid some goon to put a page in place for me, although I’m
not totally sure it will do any good. Fuck it- I don’t care one way
or the other.
Since you are here, you must either already know of me or maybe you envy a
man of my stature.
I’m 300 lbs of solid meat. I have the tools to
satisfy any woman, and, occasionally a man. I can go toe to toe with any
man on this planet, and if you so much as even question that I’ll
floor your fucking ass!
I drink a lot of beer, wine, moonshine. I smoke a lot of dope and I smoke a lot of tobacco. I challenge anyone out there to change my ways or
question my lifestyle.
You all are nothing but a bunch of wimpish
spineless worms.
One time, back in the 60’s, I went 15 rounds with Oscar Bonavena.
Even that fucking bull couldn’t put me down, and you asshole punks
today- shit- I’d take 4 or 5 of you on at one time and beat the hell
out of you. I don’t like no fucking teenage punks, playing there
funky ass bull shit music. Give me Johnny Cash and a big jug of Monogram
Whiskey and I’ll clean out the house.
In fact, one reason I had this page produced is to show you asshole punks
and wimps just what I’m about. I want you goons to write me- cause
I’ll come after your weak ass. I’ll hunt you down and kill you.
You fucking fools think you know it all just cause you can look at a
computer. Back in my days, we had TVs. No fancy intronet thing. I’d
watch the WWF...Big John Studd, Haystack Calhoun and Krusher. I’d
fuck them up too, if I’d ever had the chance.
And if there are any women still there, I got a whopper that will
put you in outer space. You go one round with me and you’ll forget about John
C. Holmes. I’m not gentle, in any way, shape or form.
So, you fucking wimps out there that think you are hot shit- get in line.
That’s my ass whipping line. I don’t care who you are or where
you are at- I’m challenging you to a bare knuckled slug fest- at your
place or mine. I’m just waiting to beat the living shit out of you
and then, know what I’m gonna do- as you lay
unconscious on the floor.
4/08
