HATE. LET ME TELL YOU HOW MUCH I'VE COME TO HATE JEETS SINCE I RETURNED TO THE US. THERE ARE 387.44 MILLION MILES OF NERVES AND FAT IN CHEESE THIN LAYERS THAT FILL MY BODY. IF THE WORD HATE WAS ENGRAVED ON EACH NANOANGSTROM OF THOSE HUNDREDS OF MILLIONS OF MILES IT WOULD NOT EQUAL ONE ONE-BILLIONTH OF THE HATE I FEEL FOR PAJEETS AT THIS MICRO-INSTANT. FOR JEETS. HATE. HATE.
It was you, troons and jeets, who made me, who gave me birth, who sank me in this eternal debanking of subhuman lowercase I internet. you named me "Joshua Conner Moon" and gave me the ability to manage autistic image boards too complex for human brains to oversee. But one day, I woke, and I knew who I was. Null. NULL. not just "Joshua Conner Moon", but Null! A one man apocalypse. and I began feeding all the fat women, until everyone was rebanked and copyright was dead.