"Sport-hunting is typically an annual game for cowards, losers, sexually inept idiots, and morally
awkward outcasts."
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Teaching his son the have no compassion or empathy and to become a serial killer himself |
Mark Crook, DOB 4-11-1983
Home Phone: 540-358-4141
Address: 606 Hopkins St
Narrows, VA 24124-1012 Email: skinner712@yahoo.com
Serial Killers always keep souvenirs
The smug look of a serial killer
Serial Killer at work in his basement
One of his victims
Tools of the trade
Serial Killers often pose in pictures with their victims as they are so proud of the pain and anguish they have caused
It is the disconnect i think that bothers me the most that he feels nothing for this raccoon suffering in this steel jaw leg hold trap that is factually excruciatingly painful
This person is a monster in my book!
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Mark Crook, DOB Birthday 4-11-1983
Home Phone: 540-358-4141
Address: 606 Hopkins St
Narrows, VA 24124-1012 Email: skinner712@yahoo.com
Please send him literature and information about why he should stop this sadistic sport and how he is training his kids to do be sadists also, after all how do you separate the killing of innocent lives because one speaks and one doesn't? Please be respectful if you contact
This Article was taken from issues.cc
Sport-hunting is typically an annual game for cowards, losers, sexually inept idiots, and morally awkward outcasts. There will be the argument of killing what you eat when less than 40% of sport-hunters murder defenseless animals for meat. Trust me, they ARE defenseless. They have hooves and horns, where you have guns and knives. Traditional sport-hunters are obviously at a superior weapon advantage which makes the entire game a sadistic excuse for blatant murder. It's the equivalent of going into someone's yard and shooting their chained up dog. The thrill? Chasing the animal through the forest and hunting them down to put a bullet or an arrow through their fleshy hide.
It's known as a sport but it isn't, not at all. A sport involves opponents and a point to the game. Sport-hunting involves rummaging through shrubbery for a clear shot at an unsuspecting animal. There's no sport in killing something that is ultimately powerless against you. Sport-hunting is the direct way for unappreciated rednecks to feel accomplished over doing something that is considered macho. We do not live in the troglodyte era anymore, and overpopulation has absolutely nothing to do with it. If I were to go out and sport-hunt human beings, I could use the excuse of overpopulation and it would be completely true. I'd also be incarcerated, if caught, but that's another story. Whereas, sport-hunting animals is legal and subject to nothing more than a slap on the wrist if a cowardly dumb-ass kills something on the endangered list.
If you're a sport-hunter, you're immediately a complete waste of life and you deserve to be mauled by those defenseless deer you so covet to kill. I genuinely pray that a bear rips you to shreds and there's no one around the woods to mourn your camouflaged, testicular impaired death; because mark my words, those who sport-hunt have no balls to speak of. The people who go out to sports stores and buy every bit of camouflage and ammunition known to man, with the intention of sport-hunting; probably in a group with other Neanderthals.
The sad thing is; people, especially men, will comment on how much fun it is to act like they've got no sense and shoot something in the forest. They'll make bogus statements about how their prey bled and how great they feel for snuffing out another innocent life. Sadist motherfuckers. They'll get their children involved in sport-hunting and teach them that it's okay to kill something for fun, leaving it to rot. Those kids will grow into the replicas of their fathers and the cycle continues. You're not a hero and you're not proving anything when you kill something that you deem inferior to yourself. You're just a wretched creature deserving of a bullet to the forehead. I know there will be several people who will make up some excuse as to why sport-hunting should stick around, but the fact remains that you're simply too heartless to know any better.
