I took a Career Guidance test in high school. I checked off that I hated everything, but that working outside was tolerable. The computer software suggested that I become a Postal Carrier. -- Baron Earl
It's like skunkbait for Massively Cool Dudes with Awesome Mini Trucks
and way bitchin' mullets, an instant portal into the pinhead
dimension and an easy mark for "Calvin Pissing on..." sticker
collecters. It, like, totally, like, sums up the total, like,
way you approach your life: NO FEAR, DUUUUUUUUUUUUUDE!
And I can't tell what's dumber, the guy who slaps that phrase on his chest or
his ass or the rear window of his ridiculous truck, or the dumbass on the
witness stand here who embraces the whole "No Fear" culture with such vigor and
zest that he simply cannot contain himself from sitting down and pinching off
his cruel loaf of a website to inform and update others about goings-on in the
growing-by-leaps-and-by-bounds worldwide "No Fear" fraternity.
Hey, it's bad enough that the anonymous asspipe who maintains this site
considers a dorky, acne-ridden, wispy-mustachioed one-liner to not only be an
entire philosophy, but apparently the only philosophy, but what to make
of the countless other sad fucks who contribute to said shitpile, in the
form of, among other things, a page full of "sayings":
- "Beat you fears with a big nasty stick!"
- "I feel a bruise on your horizen."
- "No pads, no helmets, just Balls!"
- "No crybabies!"
- "No scrapes, No scares, No Proof!"
Hey NO FEAR assipes and babymen! Here's a slogan for your stupid trucks and
your "ripped tees": I AM PIGDOG, AND I WILL RAGE LIKE THOR IN YOUR BUNGHOLE.