Oh I don't know, I'm not that embarrassed about it. I'm not sure Wyzguy could argue it is that bad either. Or LuigiTrabotti if you can scrape what is left of him off the bottom of my shoe. Or Captofthevessel. Or even StripheGotti who dropped by my mailbox to call me a bastard for that last murder. And what about Gidan_R who is lined up to survive one of these forays for the first time since records began? That elevates this escapade into the record books all on its lonesome. 

But it is even easier than that for me to brush your nonsense away like the scraps of uneaten ravioli my lobster lunch. If I'm so bad, why is every boss in the country hiding behind protection? If I'm so bad why haven't they caught me yet? Part of having style, Transistor, is being accepting of your flaws. I don't have the biggest gun, it is true. I acknowledge that failing of mine and that is why I am positively shining in this otherwise generic fedora and you're over there denying obvious facts, following Kuku around bagging every turd he drops and taking a big old whiff. 

Transistor, I'm not defending anyone.  I'm just ridiculing you, again, for being such a god-awful loser.  Like, I just live my life and you pop up and start something and always end up looking even more stupid.

Ever get the feeling you've been cheated?

I didn’t summon this cretin, he always comes out of the woodwork when he can take credit for someone else or my name is mentioned.

Just retire, or shoot me so I don’t have to witness this second hand embarrassment.

Transistor, here's what happened.  Kuku's elegant, educated voice, with Irish accented lilt and Celtic cadence, was heard on the Streets.  A small man heard this voice and got very, very excited.  He ran to the Streets and started flapping his really horrible gums.

Bla ... Bla... Bla ... Kuku ... Bla ... mean to me ... Kuku ... meh ... blim .. blam ... ba ba black sheep can I have eighty million dollars ... blee bla ...

Those horrible gums, that stupid voice, that excitable, high-pitched attempts at being threatening.  All of that flapping, all of that noise, that's YOU Transistor.  Nobody "summoned" you, Good Grief, are you nuts?  Nobody wants to hear from you.  You can't help yourself.  You just get so animated.

You have never, ever started attacking me with an outcome that was positive for you.  You always end up looking even more foolish.

Son, have you ever heard of a man named RJFuller?

Do yourself, do this society, a favour, and have some cognitive behaviour therapy so that when you hear my voice you do something other than advetise the need for regular brushing and flossing.

I love the idea that I haven’t mentioned your name once and yet you obediently respond to cretin like a dog in a shelter desperately waiting to be adopted.

TerrificRigoberto - I respect you, and of course you're right, the indignities visited upon Transistor would drive even the strongest of men insane, let alone a squeaky brained weakling like Transistor.  He cracked, like a bad egg, which is fitting, as he is a bad egg.

But I simply can't bear to see his awful dentistry and hear his backwoodsman voice.

Let's just ignore him.  At this stage I'd give him eighty mill just for him to go into a cabe and stay hterel

What does any of this have to do with the regime? Or frankly, you: the hanger on grasping at the titty tassels of one of the worst rogues in recent memory?

I'm here to poke fun at this comedy of horrors.

Ok, ok. Can we all please agree not to overanalyse the last thing that CharlesBronson said. 

Can we all just glaze over it. Like a delicious ham. 

I was going to comment to suggest CharlesBronson is showing real leadership credentials.. then I realised he was already RHM!

Sins of the Hand indeed. Someone should put a hole in Striphe for this, as God intended.

HonestJohn , your honest opinion we are grateful for as always. 

Can we please now have your honest opinion on the sordid love affair between Transistor and Kuku and it's derogatory effect on the streets? 

Mokus was just happily playing with his nuts the other day. Toss them left, toss them to the right and just dive into them like it was a refreshing dip in a cold but calming river.

But all of a sudden he hears a tick and his most beloved acorn splits in 2, and something whizzes past his tail singing the end of it. He yelps, oh my gerd!! what was that.

As he looks over a coward is running towards the hills, blindly throwing down the gun which goes of, and woaw miraciously something falls to the floor grasping their head and bleeding profusely.

Mokus gives chase, angry chattering but the man is running too fast for his little legs to catch up. So he jumps in a tree and keeps peppering the man with nuts from a far, hopefully one with lodge in his throat soon and choke him. Big bad man needs to die!

Upon hearing the almost incoherent rant from Mokus, our nut-obsessed protagonist, I couldn't help myself thinking it was a bit like watching a squirrel trapped in a perpetual loop of bad decisions and unearned drama. While his initial setup promised much whimsy, ergo, a squirrel frolicking with his acorns, the tone thereafter took an inexplicably grim turn faster than I could say "nuts."

I couldn't help but feel the central plot device, an acorn splitting due to a stray bullet, felt wildly improbable and, not to mention, utterly absurd. I had to wonder to myself: was this some kind of woodland fable, or the fever dream of someone who binge-watched action movies, breathing through their mouth, while eating trail mix, rusks and baby food?

The antagonist, a "coward" running blindly after a random gun misfire, offered me, as the listener to this incomprehensible drivel, no real motivation, backstory, or even a semblance of personality. He seems to exist solely as a vessel for Mokus’s rage, which, by the way, is disproportionately intense.

I get it, Mokus loves his acorns. But peppering someone with nuts, hoping they choke to death? Come on now, seriously, the level of vendetta here would make an actual mob boss blush.

I couldn't decide whether, mainly due to the prose veering wildly between quirky charm and violent melodrama, whether it was intended to be a children's story akin to something Hans Christian Anderson came up with or a Tarantinoesque, gritty revenge thriller.  It failed astonishingly miserably at both, by the way.

And let’s not forget the pacing, or lack thereof.  Mokus’s transition from playful frolicker to vengeful vigilante happens in the blink of an eye, which left me emotionally uninvested and thoroughly confused.

I mean honestly, the speech just felt like it was trying too hard to be clever and failed to deliver any kind of meaningful payoff. Was it a tale of morality? A satire? Or just an overly dramatic account of a rodent’s bad day? Whatever the intention, the result is a mess of tonal inconsistency and unintentional hilarity which left me wishing I had visited the nearby coffeeshop and stuck forks into my eyes for an hour or so.

Final Verdict: Two nuts down, zero stars.  A Nutty Disappointment.

Dusty wandered around the streets amused at the activity.

Seems this and other speeches have people talking. This is always interesting, however, does anyone know where I can find some snacks and a warm spot to sit and listen to the entertainment of current happenings?

I want to make it clear I am not one of those clowns you are seeking out that tipped that trashy auth notification. I just left a party. Scratches out party. Thinking long and hard about what sort of gathering was that...

This event here is by far more riveting. Nothing like a long overdue revolution. I commend you Mr. Santoro. You are a prime example of a man who would like to die standing on their feet instead of on their knees. 

Take a long hard look at all the faces that surround us. Some are on their knees. Some are hiding behind bullet proof doors. Some are like Weeble's and some are a reminder of the great old Humpty Dumpty. And some are just flat out delusional. We have quite a few in bold and seated as hands who think they are in the in-crowd. 

Here you are standing on your own two feet advocating for long overdue change. Trust me more people than not want this change, but we have a situation where we have some people who are delusional and believe they will not die on their knees like their past kin. They have all these grandiose ideas/dreams how they will survive. And that is all fine and dandy, but the first step is to get off the knees.

Insanity is repeating the same thing over and over and expecting different results. This man is worthy of everyone's respect particularly those who cry about their kin dying over and over for no reason. Join him, send him money, ask how you can help. Grow a set and get up on your own two feet.