Kev Pokes Smot

I guess the first amendment must be on my side afterall. Oh yeah. Bwock On! Some would look at this little masterpiece of a blog and consider it a critique of Kev's retard ways. Others would consider it mean. Well, tough shit. What's good for the goose is ultimately good for the gander is it not? That doesn't make my brother Kev any less of a whiny little tard-bitch who can't take what he dishes out. truth be told. Right Kev? He's gonna call the cops today.
would you fucking grow up and get a life? Who ever you are you are a fucking child who has an unhealthy obsessive gay crush on me. So FUCK YOU. What you're doing is illegal and I'm gonna call the police today to investigate of who you are.
As Kev Brocks brother Bev, I am obliged to mention a few more things about the ambiguously gay man. I already mentioned he was retarded, but for those new subscribers to this blog, yes, he is even more gay than feng shui. Our mom doesn't want me to mention it because it's a big family secret. God knows, I don't even want to mention it, but as I said previously. My shrink considers this my therapy. Think about it in perspective. if you were in my shoes, you would need therapy too. I read Kev's latest entry, and now it appears his gayness has gone to the extent of fantasizing about men in uniform. I often wonder what's next. Cowboys? Indians? Construction Workers? Sailors? I'm thinking there's a song there. I'm not musical enough to write it, but then again, neither is Kev. I feel sorry for Kev. I really do, because at times I wonder what he would do if presented with a big juicy pussy. I am not sure if he would even know what to do aside from the general tard-esque staring and drooling and mumbling in tardish. I was under the assumption that that language was a form of elvish. But I dare not utter it here. See, Kev seems to be under the impression that he is completly innocent when it comes to bashing people. Truth or not, bashing is still bashing. I guess it just depends on your mastery of the english language enough to use unlike a tard would. If he understands the writings in this blog, dare I say, I am floored with utter shivering stupefaction.
I just heard from a friend of a friend that in fact Kev IS gay. She told me that she saw him out at the Wilton Mall leaving hickies on this biker guy in pleather pants named butch. Apparently, this is a well-kept family secret, and only a few people know. But myself, being the trafficer of information that I am, felt the need to tell the world that Kev Brock is undeniably flaming retarded gay.
I was listening to Led Zepplin this morning and paying tribute to the hammer of the gods when I had an epiphany. If Kev Brock dressed up as THOR, then he would become the amazing Thundertard and those willing to stand in his way would be smote by his golden metal master pedal of the gods. There was this one time, when we were kids, that Kev would put on a plaid blanket as a cape and got on the roof of the house. Then he would dive into a pile of leaves that dad raked up that morning. I couldn't tell him that there was a months worth of dog feces in it because our nextdoor neighbor had this great dane that they would feed t-bone steaks to. This dog would shit in our yard all the time and it always made dad furious, so he would rake it up into a big pile with all the leaves and leave it by the side of the house. Anyway, Kev would leap into this pile completely unaware and come out smelling like a compost heap at the San Diego Zoo. Poor guy. I didn't have the heart to tell him, so I would just stand there and point and stare and laugh. I think the best part of our childhood was going into that old abandoned house filled with asbestos and eating paint chips from the walls. That was always fun.
I mean it from the bottom of my heart.
I know some of you read my blog. I don't give a flying two fucks. But I have proof Kev Brock is a flaming homosexual deviant who like to play with himself furiously. In his blog. he talked about playing a gig at a gay bar.