A man sits at a computer. It's the year 2001.
"He seeks inspiration for his artwork. Soon after, he proceeds to Google "lamb and goat fucking," smirking in delight at how much this grotesque image would shock the preps at his school. Every finger-painted Picasso-by-way-of-retard would be a thorn in the side of every jock. Soon the phrase "Jared the moron" would lose all meaning and its ability to wet his eyes like a concoction of lemon juice and onions. Yet the first search result piqued his interest before he could even click Images, and it was to a metal website titled "Lambgoat."
Immediately he chucks his Taproot discography out having heard the new lords of heavy music in a Bleeding Through album sampler. Soon, too, would he find an outlet for his ridicule. Soon, too, he realized he could be the arbiter of insults. Soon, too, he would realize he wasn't good at that either. Still, the man persisted with his most grandiose idea yet: if he could have the most total posts, his stature as significant in any way would be presumed. He took to the metal website's message board with idiotic rage and an eye on first place. Eventually his top spot was challenged thus he began to practice what was nothing more than thinly-veiled spam.
And the man grew old as a decade passed, and continued his bad artwork and shit posts. And he found a lass resembling a rag doll drowned in bleach whose cervix was sealed shut by venereal disease. And he worked 12h shifts computer programming at minimum wage. And he sweat beads of Mt. Dew and backed up sperm brought by impotence. And like a capitalist's greed, he was the biggest winner in an innately broken system. And as a king in his mind, and a diabetic potato in reality, perched upon his throne, or as to some it's known, a broken stereo, he stood hero to a story none would read, and sat heir to a joke of a life without a punchline. Decade after decade."