Bad Batz Maru
ON THE TOPIC OF:
Foxy Mouse Creator Tim Weinmann
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Hello world, my name is Bad Batz Maru. I am a penguin from Gorgeostown. My hobbies include looking after my pet Alligator, Pochi, and tormenting a stupid white seal and an irritating polar bear. But today I'm here to tell you about a creature so foul an horrible he makes even my wicked heart jealous. I'm talking about Tim Weinmann, creator of the Foxy Mouse. The twenty year old asshole was born on March 2, 1982, a day which shall live forever in infamy. He began work on his little homepage at the end of the year 2001 and has since become a role model to friendless basement dwelling probable closet-cases everywhere. His mix of second rate 'observation' comedy with childish ranting and thinly disguised leftist agenda have already inspired countless other talentless nerds to throw away multiple afternoons of the best years of their lives immitating him. And speaking of immitation, most people would be embarassed to take credit for a web site so steaped in mimickry. If the quality were about 100 times better, I'd say that Tim Weinmann had raised the wholesale stylistic ripoff to the level of artform. But instead his work on the Foxy Mouse is little more than tiresome 'entertainment' built around inserting swear words into inapropriate places and reveling in the same childish nostalgia that wastes the young lives of hipsters (and the pseudo-hip) all over the country. It's as though he bought his humor over the counter at the store where he bought his Thundercats T-Shirt. The people of Boulder Colorado are right to ignore him except in instances where they yell 'FAG' at him from the passenger side of their best friend's Mercedes on the way to the Dogstar concert. But enough about this young man's tiresome website for morons, I wish to turn your attention now to this shit-eating swine's personal life. He's an 'agnostic', which is just sort of a pretentious way of saying he's too lazy to care whether there's a god or not. He believes in primarily 'left wing causes' but distrusts anyone who purports to have any solutions to any problems, a philisophical practise that almost garauntees to keep him both ignorant and ineffectual in all matters of political debate. He has no girlfriend but instead fritters away his time imagining that somewhere out there is the perfect girl for him, ignoring prospects for actuall happiness that pass right under his gin-blossoming nose. He listens to punk rock music, as though such tastes still made one a rebelious iconoclast, and loves to go to 'shows' (a pseudo-hipster's word for 'concert') and listen to the fourth generation drivel being blasted out from speakers for the entertainment of a primarily high school audience. But even worse than that, his tastes occasionally drift towards the whiny-vagina music called 'emo', a bunch a college-dropouts living on the tit and singing sappy garbage about 'broken hearts' and 'last chances' that you'd think came straight out of a fourteen year old girl's online diary. How Tim Weinmann can stand to listen to such trifeling bullshit is one question, how he can stand the music's inherent immasculation is perhaps a more important one. It would seem that Tim Weinmann couldn't be an easier target for mockery if he were an impotent concubine for a ninety year old Bea Arthur, feeding her grapes and taking her wrinkled abuse day to day. And the fact that the thought of being an impotent slave for an aging Golden Girl gives him a boner is a Freudian hornet's nest I wouldn't pick at with Hello Kitty's head at the end of a twelve foot spear. So now, the only thing left to talk about relating to Tim Weinmann and his infantile quest for constant attention from complete strangers on the other end of the world is you people. Why are you here? Why are you reading and supporting this ignorant buffoon's dimwitted writing and cliched sensibilities? Go outside and get some fresh air, go run some errands, get a fucking job. It's like Micky says in Rocky I, 'this is a waste of life!' Are you all really such easy suckers that you're willing to whore out your time to this miserable charlatan and his small bag of cheap tricks? You should be ashamed! If it weren't so nearly impossible, I'd say you were no better than Tim Weinmann yourselves! No leave me alone! Get out of here you wretched sheep! Be gone! To learn more about me, Bad Batz Maru, Click Here. To learn more about me, not filtered through Tim Weinmann's hackneyed 'comedy stylings', Click Here To return to the Articles Page, Click Here To return to the About This Site Page, Click Here To go to the Main Page, Click Here |
 Above- The many hates of Bad Batz Maru: Hana-Maru, Panda-Ba, and his pet Pochi.  Here is the creator of this stupid homepage, enjoying some poison and probably feeling like he's an impressive sight while doing it. Don't be fooled!  Look at these morons he runs around with. Sitting in his basement apartment watching Army of Darkness like a bunch of brain-dead preschoolers.  Even more fucking stooges. How can one young man surround himself with so many cockeyed jackasses.  Completely fucking hopeless. It doesn't get any fucking stupider than this shit. |