sputneek: Taking stupid predictions to a new level.
I'll tell you what, sputneek takes shit to a level of refinement. Go back and forget about the idiotic predictions, look at the manner in which he is utilising the words. This is a guy who is not spreading shit on toast. He is spreading shit like it was a cake decorating contest. I mean, this guy styles his shit, sculpting it into florid prose of sycophantic grovelling.
Embedded within the brown-nosing is the pretentious assumption of a fantasy persona of 'Marco'. The manner in which the astonishingly preposterous elements BHP's
book and especially the detail of where he stores his book, are introduced into the narrative are utterly naive. You are left with the impression that this is a guy who is so out of touch that five year old justification/ explanation levels are sufficient to establish the veracity and provide proof his assertions
For examples of Rococo shit sculpturing regard:
".. the elite player that he could see, but the rest of us could not.."
" It's eerie how scarily right he was."
"... watching quietly while Pearce trained hard and strong."
".... I listened in awe as the man spoke in terms far too complicated for men like you and me."
"....he always held no hard feeling to people here not understanding his views."
".... he had to "dumb himself down" to appropriately communicate with the people on here, and I can understand why."
"...he has a book under his bed, with predicted rep teams up to 5 years in the future."
50% of sputneek's posts are talking up BHP as the transcendent visonary demi-godlike intellectual acme who visits forums to share his high vision of the unseen by mortals insights that he alone is capable of. All for the unappreciated mental uplifting of we of lowly intellectual capability. The other 50% is a disconnected from reality w*ank-fest over Mythchell Piss.
Between the synthesis of these two shit dripping topics is a form of style and self congratulation, that is pathetic but simulataneously bewilderingly amusing, in a "we are laughing at you." kind of way.
Keep 'em coming BHP. Your nom de plume and the prosaic shit torrents are quite the sight to behold. Few people sculpture shit with the creative unreality, that you arrive at.
Sir, take a bow.