danke banke
What the fuck did you just fucking say about me, you little bitch? I'll have you know I graduated top of my class at Juilliard, and I've headlined numerous festivals from Coachella to Lollapalooza, and I have over 300 confirmed platinum records. I am trained in wammy bar and I'm the top shredder in all of pop punk. You are nothing to me but just another Guitar Hero skid. I will shred your eyeballs out with precision the likes of which has never been seen before on this Earth, mark my fucking words. You think you can get away with saying that shit to me over the Internet? Think again, Kenny G. As we speak I am contacting my secret network of death metal beauticians across the USA and your IP is being traced right now so you better prepare for the storm, maggot. The storm that wipes out the pathetic little things called your earballs. You're fucking dead, Ibanez player. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can record a dope solo seven hundred ways, and that's just with my Gibson acoustic. Not only am I extensively trained in rocking your face off, but I have access to the entire tour bus of Slayer and I will use it to its full extent to shred your miserable ass off the annex stage, you little Nickelback fan. If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little "clever" comment was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your fucking tongue. But you couldn't, you didn't, and now you're paying the price, you Matchbox 20 roadie. I will shred fury all over you and you will mosh to it. It's a fucking banjo duel, kiddo.
h/t
she is pretty
underpants gnomes
KEK
a valiant effort nonetheless
full house 9's full of 3's say that's a popular couch
nite all