Friday, October 1, 2010

My apologies to Kent Parker.

I knew he was a big chicken, a wimp even, but I didn't know just how big, a big chicken wimp he was. My apologies to Kirty girl. I thought he could have lasted more than a year before showing everyone how gutless he is. I was being nice when I was thinking that because it seems you can always tell someone, a person, that has no enduring fortitude, someone who prances about mightily when no enemy is in sight but who runs and hides when challenged by an unbending will - I thought he had more guts, that he wouldn't roll over and beg cowardice so evidently.

Kent can't come out to fight because he is afraid. Now he knows his words of hate were never a shield. He is unshielded and afraid. Even when holding hands with milton and martin and tony he knows only fear. Fear feasts upon him. He casted stones upon those he saw as weak, now suddenly he has no fortitude, no courage when faced with return fire. Kent is the disciple of a devil of hate who has stolen his fortitude. Kent has been robbed of that which he never possessed, been robbed of heart and fight. His mission is doomed, he should try becoming a parking warden.

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