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John Raide · (02-05-2014)

You know getting your nose broken really sucks.

Of course, I'm probably not telling you anything you didn't already know. However, you know what sucks worse than getting your nose broken? If you guessed getting it set back into place you'd be right and this is where I'd direct your attention off screen to show you that you've just won a 1992 Geo Tracker and good luck paying the taxes on that piece of shit.

All kidding aside, there's actually something worse than both of those come to think of it. Can you guess what it is? I'll give you a hint. I'll pull the hood of my sweater up over my head, I'll talk like I got gravel in my throat, and I'll light some candles and start using cliched phrases like 'it's a dog eat dog world' and 'it's survival of the fittest' or some other bullshit like that.

Survey says -- ?!

No, no, not Eli James, but close. Try again? Ready?

What is boring as shit and on par with putting your dick into a weed whacker?

Answer -- in the form of a question -- what is an Andrew Morrison promo?

Ding-Ding! Awesome. Thanks for playing.

Some full disclosure, I was going to stand outside of a cave for this promo looking like a convicted rapist and try to come across as the resident badass of this company, but then I watched how much of a tool Morrison looked like while doing that and I quickly retired the idea.

Instead, I'm in the comfort of my hotel two hours removed from a glorious Swedish massage and broadcasting to all of you live from this web cam. It's much better that way. I suppose I could pull out some black candles and a wijii board or something, and maybe have some monks chanting in the background if I really wanted to mimic the environment of an Andrew Morrison promo. But that's neither here nor there.

I'll be honest, when I looked at who I was facing this week my first reaction was: "...and that is?" Seriously, what is it you'd say you do here? I see a lot of barking and trying to grunt and look tough. In short, a lot of style and very little substance.

I may have grabbed the so called short straw, but you sir look like you came in on the short bus.

The Word of Morrison?

More like The Word of a Moron.

Side note, what's with the constipated look on your face all the time?

Here's the word of Raide, consider it free on the house ...

Shut the FUCK up.

I'm serious.

Shut the FUCK up.

You don't matter. You are insignificant to not just this company, but the world around you. Now, before you go on a killing spree down at the Circle K, just think about it for a second. No, no, I know, you're a big scary lion, I get it, but just think about it.

As much as I appreciate your little storm watch there, I think you'd be doing us all a bit of good if say maybe you went and sucked on a tailpipe or caught Ezekiel's aids and died so we could bury you in a shallow grave.

Would that really be so bad?

I barely know you, but I can honestly say I wouldn't miss your ass one bit. Maybe your little flunkies would, but at least I wouldn't have to sit through your fucking diatribes feeling like I was being subjected to having someone run a razor blade over my eyes.

By the way, regarding your flunkies, does anyone really give two squirts of piss about Tera Vincent and Michael Kelly? What methadone clinic did you round these asshats up from?

Here's something I am sincerely curious about, more like something I find mildly amusing. You run your belligerent mouth about the Book of Daniel and want to call things like that nursery rhymes and fairy tales, but then you go call your little band camp Apocalyptic Genesis.

Are you this stupid?

Seriously?

It's moments like this I wish I had a time machine so I could go back in time and have your dad kick your pregnant mother down a flight of stairs.

Though, in all honesty, I'd probably have to do it myself because he was likely in prison or working as a high school shop teacher and based on how you turned out he probably has a hook for a hand after he got too close to the band saw.

Do me a favor, save your little speeches about blood baths and having an appetite for destruction for someone else. Trust me, I talked a lot of shit about Eli James, but you're no different than him or John Austin. You think talking in circles makes you look profound and cryptic.

"I'm here to change the world, end the world, destroy the world, set the world on fire..."

What the fuck does that even mean?

Do you see what I mean about doing us all a favor and ridding us of your presence? The sooner you realize that no one gives a flying fuck about your incoherent nonsense the better off you'll be.

I'm glad you're trying to strike fear in the hearts of men, but you're as big of a puppet as the ones you're rallying against.

You keep using my name, but you don't know me.

I am John Raide.

I fear no man.

You want to call me a martyr, fine. I'll still call you a tool of the highest order.

You're just a device and on Wednesday the only person being made an example out of will be you.

You have my word.

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