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Damn Back-stabbers! All of you who know me, know that I don't take shit from anyone, and will eat your lunch, and do your mom before donning my triple 160's, my transpac quad-wings, and my DUI drysuit for a 40 ft. reef dive in Fiji, something that you strokes can only dream about doing when you are sucking on mama's tittie during a thunderstorm. But now, in the ultimate insult, certain divers on this list, who (because they are Class A Naval Yard Pukes) shall remain nameless, have convinced the Winchell's Doughnut Corporation to sponsor THEM in the "How many of our piece-of-shit doughnuts can you eat before your 600 fsw dive?" contest. Me and my team built our fuckin' reputation with Winchells, and now because a few whining pukes (who don't even know what hand to dip their doughnut into their coffee with) complain to some asshole in Winchells public relations department, we've got to share our box of Maple Twists. This is an outrage, and a fuckin' insult to me and my team. Anyone who has watched my video series "Doing it 'till you Vomit" knows that we have been loyal to Winchells, and have done our best to promote their products as the safest for pre-deep technical diving massive carbohydrate/sucrose loading and internal buoyancy gas development. All of you God Damned strokes know that me and my team developed the 1/2, 3/4, and the full-on coffee dunk that every other team worth a shit now emulates. But we did it using full caffeine in our Java - something not even Pyle has the cohones for (if I'm wrong, say something, decaf boy...). I told the ass-kissing "can't we all get along" bone smugglers at Winchells that this was going to result in someone getting killed, and the glaze would be all over their hands, not mine. But they want to go ahead with it. "Fine", I said. "Have it your own way you simpering weak-wristed maggoty-white scab eaters". But I'm putting you all on notice that me and my team are going to smoke all of you dill-holes, and you all won't even know what hit you. We're the kings of Java, and the rest of you are pretenders. We're switching to full-on espresso for our next series, so all you latte drinking fags should keep your asses out of our way. By the time these new strokes get through their first doughnut hole, we'll be cranking up the Turkish with lemon twist. As for the new competition I have this to say: When I am through with you, you will wish that you had been gang-raped by a team of sled dogs rather than have crossed my path. No one, and I mean no one messes with my jelly and gets away with it... I'm never last, I'm always first, and the rest of you can just pet my pony, spank my monkey, choke my chicken, and flog my dolphin if you don't like it... Kevin HeyyDude (p.s. George: I love you, man. Can I have your scooter now?)
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