['Hamas' Jenkins]

#Fifty-whogivesa****?

petegz


Pete Gas was the worst wrestler in the most ridiculous stable ever conjured from the Dianabol-fueled brain of Vince McMahon. It’s fitting that the roasted dumbass shares his name with an utterly forgettable ****wagon of suck.

Pete Gas hates refs. Pete Gas hates everything else, too, including you and this sentence.

Pete Gas makes you re-evaluate your own priorities and moral code. Alas, Pete Gas is not Socrates, just a pile of mis-matched neurons so mangled that it makes you wonder how you could support something he does. Pete is a walking counterargument for all he hates.

Pete Gas makes you want to shit in your mouth because he uses a toilet bowl.

When you argue with Pete you’re left explaining that home teams get preferential calls in college basketball and that, although a driving player’s sweat may have sprayed upon the brow of a defender, sloshing perspiration does not equate to a missile dropkick, and thus no offensive foul.

When you argue with Pete Gas about the Royals, you are left defending Ned Yost at times. No, Gas did not execute a rhetorical trap—it’s just not possible to bitch about everything someone does all the time.

But before you hate on Pete Gas too much, remember this.

In 1995, Mr. Gas was younger, thinner, and still just as dull. He had just finished a short tour of the bar circuit in Jasper, Missouri as a roadie for a Collective Soul cover band. He took the sawbuck and vertebral subluxation for hauling their amps, slapped on his LA Lights, and went to a local spank shack on the side of I-49. On his way behind the black curtain, before he could drop in his first quarter to see the local dwarf scrog a burro behind Plexiglas, there he saw her: his mother on the cover of Internal Reamplay 4: Painting the Lines, featuring Jerry Markbright, Jerome Bogar, and Jeff Triplette.

Before you pillory Gas too much, remember that your mom has not sucked semen and fecal matter out of her own ass, blowing bubbles with it on VHS-C so she could score a gelcap of he’ron. Although you may have done it yourself if you’re beach tribe.

Although that may excuse his hatred for the zebra set, there is no proper penance for someone with the worst taste of anyone who has dragged digital ass across this server.

Pete Gas misses the Arch Deluxe

Pete Gas drinks Shasta, even though he can afford Hee Haw

Pete Gas believes Michael Bay is a visionary.

Pete Gas wants you to buy a WiiU, too.

Pete Gas has a sick collection of HD-DVD.

Pete Gas has a sixer of Steel Reserve in the wine cooler for a special
occasion.

Pete Gas had all the members of Nickelback sign his autobiography of Scott Stapp

Pete Gas dresses up as Robin Thicke when he is role-playing with his wife, who wears an Obama mask. Don’t judge a hate-****.

Pete Gas’s favorite character on The Wire was Lt. Marimow and he hated Slim Charles.

But worst of all, Pete Gas makes you wish you were from Kansas.