My Wild Side...

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My Wild Side�

Everyone has a wild side, maybe a past they are trying to escape from, and nowhere is that more true than in me. In 1997 I began my descent into the tattoo-ridden world of big time biker gangs. I was known as Tatnone, because I had no tattoos. Running elicit shipments of b and d, s and m magazines, as well as Vodka and Marxist literature into the Mormon controlled portions of Utah and neighbouring states, we regularly put our lives at risk, dodging gun toting mormons at every corner. The kids there were great, kept talking to us about porno, drinking in their parent's basements, and the communist literature we'd distribute. I mean, honestly, we were beer swilling bikers, we didn't care about this stuff. But still, it was nice to fold some of these mormon girls over our bikes and make women out of them, and the occasional rivalry our gang had with the French Canadian lumberjack gang, who brought similar wares into the state, was also pretty cool.
Things really went downhill though; after having a taste of freedom, the kids began to lust for more, they wanted harder and harder pleasures, illicit drugs, etc, and ours was a smile time gang, not aphiliated with the bigger gangs. In earnest we started supplying their needs, but they just got more and more out of hand, always wanting more. I have seen mormons go wild before, but never like this. We had plans to close out the operation, when our funders, a group of former KGB agents from the former Soviet Union state of Greigzhenistan, made it clear we were not going anywhere, and that shipments would increase. They killed my best friend Lenny to make sure the point was taken.

Another Utah Mormon girl falls prey to our unclean charms.

WILD

I immediately fled to the non-NATO aligned country of Ireland, and as far as I know, several others disappeared as well. Polly, whom I knew from my Seychellian days, fled back to the Republic, seeking asylum. In any event, the devout Catholic residents of Ireland share many similar interests with the wild and unruly Utah mormons and I find my skills are in short supply over here. I am largely reforming my life though, and seeking nicer passtimes. I may however be forced back to Canada to deal with the Greigzhenistanian forces who even now seek me out. We may be through with the past but the past is not through with us.

I have always had the desire to become a Mormon minister, as their wild lifestyle and hedonistic devotion to life is something I respect, and perhaps I might get the chance yet.

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My Wild Side� Everyone has a wild side, maybe a past they are trying to escape from, and nowhere is that more true than in me. In 1997 I began my descent into the tattoo-ridden world of big time biker gangs. I was known as Tatnone, because I had no tattoos. Running elicit shipments of b and d, s and m magazines, as well as Vodka and Marxist literature into the Mormon controlled portions of Utah and neighbouring states, we regularly put our lives at risk, dodging gun toting mormons at every corner. The kids there were great, kept talking to us about porno, drinking in their parent's basements, and the communist literature we'd distribute. I mean, honestly, we were beer swilling bikers, we didn't care about this stuff. But still, it was nice to fold some of these mormon girls over our bikes and make women out of them, and the occasional rivalry our gang had with the French Canadian lumberjack gang, who brought similar wares into the state, was also pretty cool. Things really went downhill though; after having a taste of freedom, the kids began to lust for more, they wanted harder and harder pleasures, illicit drugs, etc, and ours was a smile time gang, not aphiliated with the bigger gangs. In earnest we started supplying their needs, but they just got more and more out of hand, always wanting more. I have seen mormons go wild before, but never like this. We had plans to close out the operation, when our funders, a group of former KGB agents from the former Soviet Union state of Greigzhenistan, made it clear we were not going anywhere, and that shipments would increase. They killed my best friend Lenny to make sure the point was taken.	Another Utah Mormon girl falls prey to our unclean charms.	WILD
	I immediately fled to the non-NATO aligned country of Ireland, and as far as I know, several others disappeared as well. Polly, whom I knew from my Seychellian days, fled back to the Republic, seeking asylum. In any event, the devout Catholic residents of Ireland share many similar interests with the wild and unruly Utah mormons and I find my skills are in short supply over here. I am largely reforming my life though, and seeking nicer passtimes. I may however be forced back to Canada to deal with the Greigzhenistanian forces who even now seek me out. We may be through with the past but the past is not through with us. I have always had the desire to become a Mormon minister, as their wild lifestyle and hedonistic devotion to life is something I respect, and perhaps I might get the chance yet.