"HANS" Tries BRIBING to get FRIENDS - HE HAS NO REAL FRIENDS IN THIS WORLD. NONE

"Lonely Surfer Boy" De Vente, who has been a pathetic has-been for so many years now, a moping, whining, sad ugly fat slob, is at it again. 
He junked his fatalistic, piss-dribbling, limp-dick "youreheretodayandgonetomorrow" blog for THIS:

Ho ho ha ha hee hee. SAKE JOHANNES DE VENTE has NO FRIENDS. He has his retarded "darling wife" who is about as intelligent as a wooden shoe, and he has his FREE BLOGS. New ones all the time. 

He has ONE asshole who left a comment -- one of his gay porn email boyfriends. That's not a REAL friend in the REAL world. 

The Cheap Dutchman wants a few people to download his hillbilly garbage. That doesn't mean they are his "FRIENDS." 

They won't turn up at the hospital for him. They won't come to his funeral. There won't even BE a funeral. He's been a waste of space all his life. He's just a LOSER. 

A CRY BABY TOO. HEAR HIM CRY. SEE HIM CRY.

CRY BABY HANS 

When will he start posting more HANK WILLIAMS? After "Kentucky Mountain Music," you know it'll be next. Poor HANZIE, he wishes he was an American, and he wishes he could suck off cowboys and hillbillies. 

What's his fondness for HANK WILLIAMS all about? Opposites attract. Hank Williams was famous. "Hans" is a loser. Hank Williams was a thin hillbilly. "Hans" is a FAT DUTCHMAN. Hank Williams was clean-shaven and "HANS" is the loser who tries to hide his fat-girl face behind a smelly and ugly scrub of whiskers.

Hank Williams sang "Hey Good Lookin' Watcha Got Cookin'" and that kind of brainless "wit" sure appeals to "HANS," who is so un-hip, so brainless, so un-funny, such an unbearable PUKE it's not funny. Any time he tries to write something clever, everyone GROANS. 

Hank Williams moaned "I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry," and "HANS" is so LONESOME he could start a new BLOG every day to bribe people with stupid music that only morons would want to download. He's so LOATHESOME nobody wants to be his friend in the real world.

HANS DE VENTE IS A LOSER.