Birmingham Pagan Community
|This article needs moar introduction.|
You can help by .
A Non-Community of Dunces
The Birmingham pagan community is a contradiction in terms on two points, since they are neither pagan (paganism in England having been extinct for about a hundred years times ten) nor a community. However, as everybody from Birmingham is an idiot, their historical ignorance can be mocked.
They have three gods, one vegetative (the Vegetentacle Rapist), and two rotting: menstrual blood and the viscera, decapitated heads, etc. of suitably small animals. They absolutely love menstrual blood and do lots of stuff with it: they eat food containing menstrual blood, especially cakes, sniff or snort menstrual blood, lick menstrual blood up, put it in their bathtubs, etc. In reality, all three gods are actually disguises for the devil (or maybe a minion), but they are so badly in denial about it that it makes good IRL trolling material.
Brum pagans have an amazingly diverse range of leisure activities and loads of free time to enjoy them, fitting their image as sucklings on the rotting tits of 'Cool Brittania'. When they're not lining up for 'social' (handouts from the gummint) they pretend to have orgies in front of old rocks assembled by people who aren't even their relatives. As part of their 'religion', they enjoy eating, drinking and sniffing menstrual blood. Some of them would like to indulge in a little human sacrifice, like the ancient druids, but they are too politically correct for that. Even worse, too many of their members are also in PETA or otherwise vegetarian.
When they are drunk or excited they run around screaming about how they are Brum pagans, for example:
Oi, oi, oi, Brum pagans are we, fuck you up the snotty nose, we love menstrual blood!
when they 'tool up' to support their soon to be relegated and fifth-rate soccer team Arsetown Vile, a club that share's their over inflated egos and sense of self worth.
Playtime on Encyclopædia Dramatica
When they aren't being vege-tentacle raped, torturing small animals, consuming menstrual blood in one way or another, queuing for handouts, or taking drugs, Brum pagans like to get on Æ and fling shit at each other. They even hurl each others real names around as if there were no tomorrow. Of course, Encyclopædia Dramatica's highly ethical no-real-names policy means that we can't give examples of this.
Still, it all ends up in tears and threats.
They also seem to particularly love this man or perhaps this one. Regardless, he's probably a lot nicer than them. They say he is a minister of the church (no doubt theirs) and beg to have at least one of his pages taken off; they are probably only frightened that he'll put a 'hex' on them.
Brum Pagans on Æ in No Particular Order
Watch out! One or two have naively been asked to Lurk Moar!, and they have, casting a foul odour of bad menses-laden breath over AE. They even pop up on TJC from time to time, posing as legitimate Æ users.
Where are they now?
|Birmingham Pagan Community
is part of a series on