Just imagine Haskel peddling home from work right now, whistling a happy tune, not a care in the world. Big ole' smile on his smug face. Coming home to a nice, relaxing night of talking shit in the Shoutbox. Kicking his hairy feet up, cracking his knuckles, opening the Shoutbox, and then shitting the biggest fucking brick of chicken fried rice imaginable once the booger snot catches a whiff of what's been posted. Can't you visualize such an amazing moment?
I sure can!
Blog God-Messiah Paq has more on this story, so go take a trip to French Canadia-land if you want the gruesome details laid out in such an eloquent way as only Paq can provide. I'm already skeezed out enough as it is knowing I had Flasher420 sleeping on my couch for 3 days and 4 nights a few years back.