She’s a holygirl that′s how her story ends It’s a lonely world with no real life friends She′ll slit his throat on the internet As long as it can make her famous.
Disclaimer. This blog is written by an outsider. The blog author didn’t agree to kill her cat which was the main task on the admission test to this prestigious Satanic club. Neither her masterbation videos were approved of by the elitist international committee of super evil Satanists. Thus she had to rely merely on the information gathered on Reddit and some leaked videos she could only partially watch on watchpeopledie.tv and Internet Archive because it was obviously too much for her.
So Mr Angel Almeida was an O9A fan who also supposedly belonged to the heinous Discord group who attracted mainly deranged kids with the taste for anything gore. The mad kiddies were required to kill their pets, cut themselves or even kill elderly people as a form of initiation to the online club of Satanic cuckoos. If they were lucky, they were “merely” asked to masturbate on camera. Although one nefarious Discord server apparently went by the name 764, others were/are O9a (lol), H3ll and Kaskar? they are very inclusive and attract all kinds of whackos, not only Satanic ones. Apparently, they still exist, changing names over and over again. The members also regularly dox each other. If some girl wanted to leave, she was blackmailed and threatened with exposure.
Satanism can attract all types of psychotic people, including mad teenagers longing for attention, internet popularity and approval of their “peers”. I don’t justify adult guys who, for some bizarre reason, figured out that pets and the elderly are proper targets for their diabolical vengeance or who manipulate the minors for the lulz. What bothers me is treating children as innocent victims.
I mean how fucked in the head people must be to kill their own cats and cut the name of the Discord server on their bodies? Or what a little monster must the young girl be to bite her hamster’s head off just to please her online friends? Or throw the cat against the wall? Or kill some grandma? It’s a thoroughly psychotic shit.
But does madness explain everything? Does young age justify every vile deed? Can everything be attributed to manipulation? Or are some children simply attracted to evil? So they somehow stumble “accidentally” on those groups and it turns out they fit in.
I found on the Internet Archive the following gem:
Thing is BX, Myatt “borrows” your ideas and stuff in your writings. He’ll put them into his own words, and then never give you credit. Then he tries ot find someway to get rid of you so he can be the only person who can be said to have founded and created the ONA. Ryan warned me about all this 4 whole years ago, and I didn’t listen to him. Myatt uses many personas and nyms. I’ll name you all of the ones he is behind, which Ryan and Dr. Monette can verify. They are: DarkLogos, Dark Lianna, Sinister Moon, R. Parker, Julie R Wright, and PointyHat, and Scott Liddle, and a couple others in the Yahoo Group like Sat Sat. All the so called “Old Guards” are Myatt. Myatt is also the whole “Inner Circle” of the ONA. In fact, he is the ONA 🙂 The sad part is, Julie Wright who is his “biographer” is just himself. He is his own biographer. The game Myatt is playing is to get himself to be famous and look influential. That’s all he wants.
Written by Ms Chloe. It’s priceless. The old guy who wrote stuff while she and others were in their diapers has ripped off his ideas from them. How many times can one leave and come back and post the same silly crap over and over again, like a broken record? 2013 = 2023 because some other Nameless bitch pissed me off and I feel insecure and not appreciated enough. So I will have a hissy fit, pick up my toys and go home. Then I will come back and then again have a hissy fit and leave to come back again.
And what does that bullshit “revelations” prove, apart from their author’s hurt feelings?
By the way, that movie. The best Aussie soap opera ever. And no, auntie Jilly didn’t undergo the gender affirming surgery. Let’s not make every movie gay.
I once wrote about the immigrants storming the Polish border with Belarus as part of the hybrid war with Russia. And about some silly activists crying crocodile tears over the poor refugees. Now some silly woman has made a movie about it, a sentimental melodrama, a romantic black and white tear jerker.
I won’t give away her name or the title of the movie because I don’t want to give the bitch free advertisement. Suffice to say her fans run out of tissues during their weeping session at the cinemas. Because how can’t you cry if you see poor refugees so thirsty that they drink the rain drops falling from the trees? Or being tortured by the guards?
Only it has fuck to do with reality. In the real world you have young belligerent males throwing stones at the guards. But fuck reality, we are here to spin fables. I only love how the twat pretends to be a martyr and complains about all the hate she receives. What to expect if you shit in your own nest?
I’ve just realized I have a fan on Twitter. Nobody special, just a self-righteous crybaby, crying crocodile tears over the harm apparently done to little children. With all the probability he took me for someone else but it would be too much of a bother to set the record straight. Instead, I will now live up to the crazy idea of being the nutty fangirl of some nutty dude who is all for fucking and murdering little children. Apparently, that is.
Especially that it just can’t be a coincidence that my Facebook wall is flooded with the shitty articles written by some shitty woke journalists ranting about the society condemning the selfish people giving their parents away to the nursing homes. According to the self-proclaimed psychology experts, caring for the elderly parents is such a disturbing and nightmarish experience that it can cause PTSD in their children. The most precious argument is that the parents don’t have the moral right to expect their adult children to take care of them when they get old because “the children didn’t ask to be born.”
This one is epic! You see?! The children don’t ask to be born! You have no moral obligation to your parents because you didn’t ask to be born! If they were so stupid as to give birth to you, wipe your ass while you were a baby, care for you when you were an adolescent, support you financially when you took a loan to buy your own home, help you to care for your kids while you and your wife had to work, that’s on them not you! It’s their fault that they were stupid! While should a child suffer because his parents were so stupid! Let them suffer their lot. Maybe, if they don’t already suffer from Alzheimer’s, they will learn the most valuable life lesson first; that you should put your interests first. Always. And that means that your life motto should be:
Fuck children!
Those little crying shitbags! You wake up in the middle of the night for the tenth time because the shrieking shitbag wants something from you again. It’s either hungry or bored or sick or has poop in its diaper or fucking whatever. You stand over its bed and the most vile thoughts cross your mind. Among them the first degree murder. Yeah, you read it right. Actually, it’s the first thought that appears in your head; one hundred or more ways of killing a crying little shitbag, all done in merely five seconds. It’s your tormented self trying to be heard. But no, the reason quickly returns. “By God, I love my child! Get way from me Satan!” Or, if you aren’t a Christian “By my honor, I would never do such a horrible thing!” It’s no good because you’ve already committed a thought crime; you committed murder one hundred times. You’re the most imaginative baby killer whether you want it or not. So you want to compensate for it by caring for that crying shitbag of yours even more, ending up totally exhausted. You wipe its ass with admirable dedication.
And when the little shitbag grows up, you still care for it, spend your money for its ever growing needs, all at the cost of your own needs. Because it’s your beloved child. And when the child becomes an adult, you care for its own little crying shitbags and the cycle begins anew. You want to feel appreciated and needed.
But finally, you get old, your health fails, your mind and body degenerates. You stop being useful. You’re no longer needed. You’re good for nothing. Instead of you caring for your family, your family has to take care of you. You become a burden. So they get rid of you and kick you away to the nursing home if you’re lucky. Here, in Poland, many abandon their elderly in hospitals. But let’s say you’re lucky and end up in the nursing home when you’re taken care of by “professionals.” Such professionals who will change your diapers as often as twice a day. Wash you once a week. And mostly leave you alone to stare at the wall. It’s not really their fault. Nursing homes are heavily understaffed.
If you don’t lose your mind completely, you will stay aware of your miserable condition. You will beg your family to visit you more often because your miserable ass is feeling lonely. “But mommy! But daddy! We don’t have time now! We have work! We have kids! And we need to go for a holiday. We need some fun! But here we brought you some sweets and cookies!”
And you reflect on your miserable life, how you wasted it all sacrificing it for those ungrateful shitbas who now abandoned you like a dog in a kennel. Because some shitty experts told them that they owe you nothing. If you only got a second chance, if you only could go back in time, you would go all Spartan and leave the little crying shitbag to fend for itself in the woods or kick it off the cliff. And after gleefully watching it fall down to the sea, you would go away to get some life at last.
But it’s too late now. You realize you have lots of shit in your diaper because, apparently, you have diarrhea after eating all the sweets and cookies brought by your dearest family. You push the alarm button, wait half an hour because it’s dinner time. Finally, a nurse or a nursing assistant appears. That look on her face. You won’t forget it. You know she would gladly suffocate you with a pillow if she only could. She calls her coworker “(insert the coworker’s name here)! Come here quickly! This shitbag shit himself again! Help me, he’s too fat to roll over!”
This is your not so distant future, the sanctimonious crybabies on Twitter and stupid “children have no moral obligations to their parents” journalists and self-proclaimed experts. Let your kids teach you a lesson.
Anna Czereda 