- Primo84
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"Sometimes life gives you lemons, and then you have to say 'f**k the lemons' and bail."
If you're reading this, you need to stop stalking me. If you can't stop stalking me, you might as well go here.
Ladies and gentlemen of the Bungie Community Forum, I come to you today with the weight of the world perched upon my shoulders. This burden of Atlas-like proportions has been troubling my mind for some time, and I feel the time has come to shed light on the unsettling revelation I've made in recent weeks.
Urk is not who he says he is.
My path to this discovery started some time ago, specifically after seeing this picture pop up several times on the forums. If you don't already know, the bearded man in this picture is Eric Osborne, or as you probably know him, Urk.
Something about this man didn't sit right with me. He seemed familiar, too familiar. I lost sleep over this; there was something in his eyes, something haunting. This man had demons, I was sure of it. I've been known to sense when there's something off about a person. I once was able to expose a pervert at my work once. He had a little girl with him, and he had the look in his eyes. He told the police that it was his daughter, the clever son of a -blam!- had the smarts to abduct a girl that somewhat resembled him, and also tricked the court into legally changing her last name to his. It was the worst case of Stockholm Syndrome I've ever seen; the girl was adamant that her kidnapper was her real father. The police, incompetent thugs they are, ate his story up and let him off the hook.
Never again. Never again will I sit by and watch as the "authorities" let sick men prowl the streets unhindered. If it ever happened again, if I had...the feeling, I promised myself I'd take matters into my own hands. This is why I'm telling you, Bungie.net. You need to know. For your safety, and for the safety of your loved ones.
Do not trust Eric Osborne.
One day, while watching television with my family, I saw him again.
I knew it! I knew I had seen that face somewhere before. I quickly jumped up and asked my fiance what his name was. She hesitated, fumbling with her words as if she were startled. I couldn't believe it; she was in on it! I didn't waste any time, I grabbed the -blam!- by the collar and hauled her to her feet.
As she struggled, I yelled into her face, "WHO IS HE!?" She started crying, just a clever ruse to throw me off my game. She knew who he was, what he was up to. I couldn't forgive myself for having been played a fool for eight years. She told me she loved me, we made plans, the works. Hell, we even had a little boy together.
All of it, my entire life up until that point, a lie.
I threw her to the ground, then gathered up my belongings and left. Before you say, "But Primo, that's crazy! She was obviously hiding something. You shouldn't have let her off the hook like that!" Rest easy, little ones. I returned a few days later while she was at work. Wire taps, hidden microphones, a camera hidden in the shower head, the works.
She will tell me her secrets, one way or another.
Anyway, I've since been living at a Motel 6 a few miles away. The measures I've taken at my former home haven't yielded much. Something about a restraining order, a custody hearing, I don't know; I had bigger fish to fry.
I was onto something, something big. I didn't have time to sleep, not while the trail was still hot. For about six months, I lived on a combination of Red Bull, hot fries, and hodge-podge combination of muscle relaxers, ADHD medication, and Russian Vodka. I needed to have perfect focus if I was going to catch my man this time. I couldn't let him slip through my fingers like the pervert with the little girl at my work place.
Some time passed and I came up with very little; The American Musical and Dramatic Academy in NYC, some acting awards, some kind of communications degree. One thing was certain, this "Eric" knew how to put on a pretty good mask. I think he learned that little trick that drama school in New York.
Just when the trail was starting to go cold, when all my work seemed to be amounting to nothing, it happened: I saw him again. Funny enough, it was while I was watching TV again.
...mother of god...
I thought this guy being on TV in general was bad, but his own talk show!? They trusted this guy to perform on television without a leash!? No script!? What were they thinking? To my relief, he had already been ousted once. Good on you, NBC, good on you. Unfortunately, TBS repeated the mistakes of NBC and gave this shady character another public platform to brainwash the masses from.
So he was up to three aliases then. I could feel myself getting close, I just needed to dig deeper.
I eventually succumbed to the rigorous diet I mentioned earlier, and was hospitalized for six weeks after falling out of my motel room's second story window, shattering my femur, breaking four ribs, and fracturing my clavicle. It was a blessing in disguise; with a my meals delivered through an IV, and a catheter taking care of my waste, I could dedicate all my time to my work.
I was able to score some of those no-doze pills that truckers use from an orderly named Steve, and combined with the steady morphine drip I was on for a few days, I was a damn machine.
As previously mentioned, under his alias of "Conan," Eric was let go by NBC, which is owned by NBCUniversal Media LLC, who bought out Oxygen Media in 2007, which was previously owned by Carsey-Werner Productions. "But what does it mean, Primo," you may be asking. Carsey-Werner Productions, founded in 1981, is responsible for a popular show that ran from 1998-2006.
Who played a recurring supporting role on that show? None other than Osborne himself, only he was going by the moniker "Danny" this time. And that's where things started to take off.
Seems like Mr. Osborne had himself some fun while working under that alias. Eric, or Mr. Bonaduce, as he was going by at the time, earned himself quite the rap sheet. Drugs? Prostitutes? Oh man, that's only the start!
Apparently Bonaduce is trained in the martial art of Tang Soo Do, a black belt apparently. Where did Tang Soo Do originate, you ask? KOREA! That's right, KOREA!
Urk, aka Eric Osborne, aka Jesse Tyler Ferguson, aka Conan O'Brien, aka Danny Bonaduce is in bed with the North Koreans!
With this in mind, I called in every favor, contacted every government official I had on speed dial, left a message on every intelligence agency's voice mail...
Brace yourselves:
Up and to the right.
Gotcha!
I know it's upsetting, but it's better that you know. We cannot continue to give Urk an outlet to voice his extremism to Bungie's adoring fan base.
So, where do we go from here?
[Edited on 01.13.2012 4:08 PM PST]