Wankmeister introduces…Mr. Trolliam Stone!
May 5, 2012 § 4 Comments
When you throw your line out into the Internets, hook baited with cycling commentary, you’re sure to land a few strange fish. You know, the one-eyed, glow-in-the-dark, cadmium-soaked bottom feeders who subsist on post-consumer waste, manganese nodules, and the decay of higher life forms that have died, decomposed, and drifted to the deepest, darkest, depths.
And then there are the really weird ones.
Mr. Stone, who seems to go by “William,” “Billy,” and “Reverend,” is something of an enigma. People who know him well have described him as “crazy,” “has to be the belle of the ball,” and “one of those people who has convinced himself, after reading a couple of books, that he is really, really smart.”
William Billy Reverend, then, without further ado, in his own unedited words…misspellings, malapropisms and all…
“If you middle name is discretion then is your first name two words, Fuck Bag or just one jumble BagFuck?”
Will.I.Am(not) engaging in some clever verbal jousting.
“Well just go screw yourself. Your only achievements were realized by stepping on the mental bodies of ner do wells proving yet again that the best way to get over a wall is to step on the dead, to tread with disdain on the carcasses of those valiant men, and women, who went before and dared to die gloriously so you could pretend to be whoever you wanted to be, less talent and courage. Take that you miserable 120 lbs of spit up.”
Rev. Stone complaining about Wankmeister’s lack of cycling prowess. Please check http://www.USAcycling.org race results for “William Stone” in order to appreciate the richness of this humor.
“At least I did not have to sell my soul-a generous concession based on the type of faith that drives Republicans to believe Jonah Goldberg does not walk around with his pants full of mommy-for a ten percent discount on a pair of decidedly non Tour De Francis Winning pieces of plastic recycled from Dick Cheney’s diet sprite bottles from various bunkers at the Four Seasons.”
Billy Jock, angry again that Wankmeister loves SPY products, uses them, and happily endorses them. Billy Jock despises such endorsements, unless they appear on his pet cycling web site, http://www.truesport.com.
“If you cannot drink their liquor and screw their women without selling out then you are what? Drinking moonshine and having sex with dolls. I prefer to call it compromise.”
Stonehead misquoting Jesse Unruh’s famous line about politicians and lobbyists to make the “point” that when other people support someone they have sold out, but when he does it, it’s compromise. I bet those morning conversations with the guy in the mirror are pretty fun to watch, Billy.
“But, in the words of your favorite Presidential Nobody: “I may be fat and ugly, but I did manage to finally to kiss a pretty girl, albeit, only by moving to the side some babbles from Tiffany’s. And before you become all David Barton historian par non, Tiffany’s is so way last middle of last century.”
The Right Reverend mixing his metaphors, struggling (and failing) to remember the word “nonpareil,” mis-capitalizing his nouns, and confusing “babbles” with “baubles.” We’re not sure what any of it means, except that perhaps he once heard Joyce and Proust were considered great writers because of their non-linear style, and figured that by stringing together some random words he’d be a deep writer, too.
“Kid goes to circus. Gets teased by clown. Spends next year going to comedy school. Gets high marks. Becomes feared commentator in High School Tweety Club. Goes back to circus. Clown sees him and calls his the mass of insecurity, same as last year. Kid Comedy rises up and musters all his well learned lessons and sputters out: ‘Well, fuck you clown. Just Fuck You.'”
Nilly Willy reminiscing about what are obviously painful childhood memories.
“And what I’m pissed about is that you Jack D thinks you are funny. And clever. And I resent that. Much.”
Hands of Stone explaining why he dislikes Wankmeister, even though the two have never met. However, Wankmeister graduated from junior high school many years ago, and is no longer interested in the petty intrigue required to hang out with the cool kids, most of whom are divorced, broke, or in jail now.
“yes I meant ‘calls him. And no I meant BABBLES”
Noah Stone, finding a new and innovative use for the word “babbles” and showing how passé it has become to capitalize the first word in a sentence. Once he finishes reading his third book, he will improvify and betterize the English language even morerer.
So there you have it! The latest and greatest addition to the world of online commentary. Wankmeister looks forward to bringing you more cleverness and fun from this unique and colorful troll writer.
Cycling in the South Bay 
I’m just glad he doesn’t live nearby. If I were you I might want a bigger dog.
Like most Internets trolls, he is fierce and mean and tough and rough and badass and fearless and ready to rumble…on the keyboard.
Want an internet troll? Join a mountain bike forum. In response to your Oakley interview, and your faith to all things Spy, I dusted off my old glasses and shelved my Oakleys. How much money do you get from Spy when a mediocre mountain biker puts on a 2004 model year pair of specs? If you want one more reason why to choose Spy over Oakley I have 2 words for you: Shaun Fuckin Palmer!
I’ve communicated the fact that you’ve put aside your Oakleys in favor of SPY, and am awaiting the $5,000.99 commission check. I will split it with you 50-50 when it arrives. And yes, Shaun is rad!