Inactive Lindsay Kantha Souvannarath / Heretics on Holiday - Failed Halifax Mass Shooter & Asian Nazi Fetishist. Sentenced to life in jail.

  • Copy+pasting images with your clipboard now works again, ending the two-month reign of terror we endured of the prior notice.


Feels dispenser
Mar 20, 2014
Today, two people were arrested in Canada and have been charged with conspiracy to commit murder by mass shooting at the Halifax Shopping Centre. The plot was so silly and the perps so pathetic that the only people that seem to be taking them seriously are their fellow tumblr edgelords and the hyperventilating mothers of Halifax, Canada.

One of the failed shooters, "Lindsay Kantha Souvannarath" (obviously the full name from her passport) was arrested after a flight from Chicago to Halifax. She lives near me, but there was precious little information about her. So I went on a bit of a hunt for information about them, but mainly focused on Lindsay who turned out to be certainly the world's #1 Asian Nazi Festishist and maybe The Cringey-est Fucking Kid Alive.

This is, I believe, a picture of Lindsay (though it's likely at least 5 years old):


Through an address search, I found her father's (mainly open) facebook page, which I won't post here. Sad enough that he has an uber-edgy White Supremacist asian daughter. He was born in Laos and very much looks like it, making Lindsay at least half-Asian (and very much looking like it). But I found her profile, fairly empty:


2. From there I found a very old reference on DeviantArt. She's listed in news reports as being 23 years old, so she was posting this when she was 15 or so.


3. The "snoopyfemme" account lead to all kinds of interesting links. It was apparently an account she used mainly in high school.

It lead to these photos on Photobucket, both tagged "snoopyfemme".



That was uploaded by a user called "RIerCatalogue", which was apparently an account for saving the avatars of members of a gaming community called "Random Insanity". (The pics were originally posted via TinyPic in this thread. She also has a gif of Varg as a sig file - more on that later - and mentions having a Jack Russell terrier, which is the dog in the photo of her facebook profile.)

4. Another photo uploaded by RIerCatalogue caught my eye. This is "Evil_Toe":


This is the autistically smug photo on a million news sites right now of Randall Steven Shepherd, who was also arrested in the failed Halifax mass shooting plot:


Obviously Randall Steven Shepherd was "Evil_Toe", and he was in the same gaming group as Lindsay Kantha Souvannarath, and given that he's a Canadian and she lives in a small wealthy suburb of Chicago, it's probable that Random Insanity is how they met each other and planned this horrible massacre they were too incompetent to handle.

I haven't seen this reported (or anything in this post reported for that matter) that's a little exclusive for you, gamers.

We're going to continue this in Part II.
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True & Honest Fan
Apr 2, 2014

SnoopyFemme | Posted on Nov. 2, 2011, 4:46 p.m.
Pulled from the bones of fattened animals, to be fed to other fattened animals for the right price. The world has its sheep, its pigs, its chickens without heads. I see the public pushing itself towards the slaughterhouse like ignorant cattle. The illusion of choice is reduced to thus: Feed from the trough, or become a cannibal.

I see before me a world hungry for justice... but there is only meat.

I will not join the herd, for it so badly needs culling. No, I am The Butcher, and I will make this planet my slaughterhouse.


Feels dispenser
Mar 20, 2014
5. So, Lindsay. Randomly googling her DA page wound up on this "post your favorite doll of the previous poster" thread on Her username: "HackerOnHacker". This leads to a number of cringey places.

KnowYourMeme. Her username was "Hyperborea Odyssea Hackeron" and she links to her DA account on the forum. Impressive Ponyfag avatar. Nearly all of her contributions to KnowYourMeme had to do with notorious Black Metal murderer and arsonist Varg Vikernes, including uploading images like this one:


Varg and National Socialism in general had become a massive fixation for Lindsay by this point, which was also noted by her friends from the Random Insanity community (particularly her ubermensch status as an Asian):


(I didn't go through all of her posts on the RI forums, have at it.) Like millions of sad edgy teenagers everywhere, Lindsay was once a prolific poster at Cracked. Perhaps appropriately, this is where the Nazi fetishism boils over.

Puberty does strange things to some people, and it appears to have mindfucked Lindsay with a turgid penis of National Socialism.

Thread: Google What You Love. Lindsay googled "The Holocaust". More adorable fascist pixel dolls. More not so cute ones:


More edgy dreams of murdering minorities. More Varg Worship (it's gone now but her avatar was a "classic shot of Varg Vikernes, back in his church-burning days.")

And, uh, weird Nazi parallel universe fiction:

Wrote this a while ago. Part of this sort of 'universe' I'm working with, and have finally started to translate into actual story. If you're thinking "These characters sound like Nazis," it's because they are. Nazis. Concepts like that of Ultima Thule and the Hyperborean were lifted straight from Nazi mythology. This led to a rather interesting discussion when I put this through my fiction workshop.

When I grow up, I want to be a propagandist.


Only in the glorious Empire are duty and destiny so rightfully intertwined. All of life is battle, and every battle we fight upon this planet is fought in the name of the Emperor, who himself fights in the name of cosmic supremacy. But ours is not a war of profit, nor of politics - it is a manifestation of the Will, the spirit of conquest that flows as life-force through our veins. Emperor Svastikron himself is the very embodiment of that force. It is his own word that war has neither beginning nor end, but is an eternal force in the universe that humanity has the power to harness.

Yet there was a time when Emperor Svastikron was but a Dark Lord that war was thought to have ended. There was no Empire, only fractured nation-states clinging desperately to borders that were growing meaningless as each nation lost its identity. The subhumans found themselves able to infest once-proud civilizations, and bring the children of conquerors to their knees, all in the name of something they called "equality." We know that a world in which all are equal is one where all equal zero. Like the Emperor is the bridge between man and god, so the subhuman is the bridge between man and animal. How every night was filled with their incessant barking and mewling, whether they were crying to be fed or calling at potential mates. The government was required to provide both. The Will was all but abandoned. But what did it matter to these lesser men? It was a time of peace! Though a disgusting peace. For the lack of glory, the people turned to indulgence. Gold for gratification, gratification for gold! Is it any wonder that the fools and traitors have referred to that time as the "Golden Age?" Humanity remained in stasis, with the ignorant proletarians in a constant state of infancy, suckling from the shriveled teat of government.

But Svastikron was not one of them. No, he was always a man of honor and glory, he was born an Emperor. He had greater plans than anything that the government could offer him. He had dreams of war, and dreams of cosmic supremacy, but what's more, he despised the government! He despised their talk of peace and love, when society was crumbling to pieces. One day, he swore, he would tear everything down, even if he must do so with his teeth.

"I fear the end is nigh," he said, "If man is no longer fit to rule, then let this be where the reign of man ends." He looked out the window of his concrete tower, and saw a burning sky. The cosmos appeared to agree with him that day.

And it was with the ignition of the sky that a mysterious vigilante had begun a new crusade! The corpses of degenerates were found on the ends of hooks, swinging from lampposts, sliced so their foul blood would drain into the gutters to which they belong. Then came the bombs. Dens of depravity would be razed to the ground in great conflagrations, the likes of which were unseen since the previous war!

"Who is this anonymous hero?" wondered Svastikron to himself. "What sort of superman can hold on to the spirit of conquest in a time such as this?"

"A butcher," came the reply. There he stood in Svastikron's very window, disguised as an elite guardsman, with face shielded behind a dark helmet, and his body behind a cloak. He stood tall and muscular, the opposite of the dough-bodied proletarians. A foul smell emanated from his shape. The smell of decay, and burning flesh.

Svastikron marveled at the stranger who came from the dark. "Who are you? Why have you come to me?"

"I am the Butcher, and I have chosen you, Dark Lord, to deliver mankind from this age of degeneracy." His voice rumbled from deep within his chest, rolling across tortured vocal cords like a tank over a battlefield strewn with corpses.

"This tells me nothing! Reveal yourself, you scarecrow!"

"Lord Svastikron. At midnight, you will come to me where Death is king, in the darkest veins of the earth lined with the bones of the fallen. The ancient crypt. I will reveal myself there. For now, I must wash the blood from these hands." And so the Butcher took off into the darkness, leaving Svastikron to marvel even further.

"Very well then! I shall meet this Butcher, and see for what he has chosen me." It was then that Svastikron leaned out the window of his tower, to see two bodies splattered on the pavement, clutching guns. This Butcher never stopped his work, did he? But Svastikron did not have much time.

He encased himself in armor before heading into the ancient crypt, and carried his axe, as wary of death as a Dark Lord must be. Yes, this was the sacred crypt, the network of tunnels dug out over hundreds of years and supported by the very bones of our ancestors. That night, they were all watching Svastikron, knowing that the future of their descendents depended on him. All depend on Svastikron, such is life, and so such is death. "Butcher! Reveal yourself! It is I, your chosen!"

A shape emerged from behind a pillar of bones. It had the stature of the Butcher, without a doubt, but without a mask it must have been Death himself. The Butcher had no face. Strips of rotting flesh were attached to the exposed muscle, seemingly stapled on, giving some illusion of a hybrid of mask and face. Yet he had neither. He wore armor that was a strange parody of Svastikron's, made of dismembered corpses rather than metal. And like Svastikron, he carried an axe.

"So, Dark Lord. Shall I tell you now who I am?"

"You," said Svastikron. "You have no face."

"My face was my first sacrifice in the name of justice." His skin mask contorted in a way that almost resembled a smile.

"Even though we have the technology to restore it?"

"No need. Many have tried to give me a face. None have succeeded. Forever shall I be an invisible, faceless force of judgment."

"Very well then. What makes you call yourself a butcher?"

"Have you ever stood before the window of a butcher shop? The cuts of meat hang there, fresh. Fresh meat, pulled from the bones of fattened animals, to be fed to other fattened animals for the right price. The world has its sheep, its pigs, its chickens without heads. I see the public pushing itself towards the slaughterhouse like ignorant cattle. The illusion of choice is reduced to thus - feed from the trough, or become a cannibal. I see before me a world hungry for justice... but there is only meat. No, I decided I would not join the herd, for it so badly needed culling. I decided that I would be a butcher."

"Who were you then, before you became this Butcher?"

"No one. I was always so. Let the illusion end here - I am not one of the masses. I was not born, rather I rose from the viscera of fallen patriots."

"So you are not human."

"No one is any more."

"Why is it now that you come to us?"

"The time of man is coming to an end, is it not? The cosmos has no use for a stagnant humanity, and so, the sky burns! But I come to you, from the distant Ultima Thule, giving mankind a warning to redeem itself before it is too late."

"Ultima Thule is not merely a legend? The land of the supermen, the land of infinite power? I cannot believe it! I stand before a Hyperborean!"

"Yet Ultima Thule exists outside of your reality as you know it. In Ultima Thule, reality is meaningless. It is a universe unto itself."

"I do not understand."

"I did not expect you to. No human is prepared for Ultima Thule. Humans are too corrupt, too occupied with the worship of flesh to understand that there is an entire world beyond. Yet Ultima Thule is the answer to your burning sky, the chance of escape from a solar system that will one day surely die. When I say that the time of man will end, I also say that the time for greater man will begin. Dark Lord Svastikron, I trust that you will purge the filth from your kind, and through the fires of war create this greater man! As man has conquered earth, the greater man will conquer space and time. When the very laws of physics become as tools in your hands, then the greater men will become gods, and earn passage to Ultima Thule! You will be one with the cosmos."

"I accept my destiny as conqueror, dread Butcher! I will go forth and purify the human race. My war will not end so long as there are men left to fight! Let the lesser man fall, in the name of the greater man!"

"And that is why I have chosen you, Lord Svastikron! Of all the warriors left in the world, the spirit of conquest flows strongest through you."

"Warriors? I thought that they all had become extinct, or been absorbed into the masses."

"They are alive still, but hidden from sight. Imprisoned, and forced to do the work that the subhumans should be doing. They had dared to question the laws put forth by a government that would do anything to suppress the fire of the great warrior and the great thinker. The great thinker did not accept the versions of science and history that would benefit the subhuman, and thus, he was imprisoned. The great warrior, why, all he had done was look the subhuman in the eye and say 'I am a warrior!', and so, he too was imprisoned. And so the conquerors become slaves, all in the name of -"

"Equality. I know too well of my masters' evils. But I am fortunate enough to be a free man. Therefore, it is my duty to liberate my brothers... Butcher, might I make a request? You are a freer man than I, and can do things that a man with a face can not. Lay aside your pursuit of the criminal and the degenerate for only a short time, so you may direct your fire unto those who have imprisoned my kind. Do this, and I will fight at your side."

"For you, the savior of man, I will be sure to obey your every command."

"No. You will not follow me, for no superman is my servant. We fight together, as brothers in arms."

Dark Lord Svastikron led the bloodiest revolution in the history of mankind. Men with a thirst for glory, men who had long been rejected by the ignorant masses, men who we thought had become extinct eons ago, took up arms with Svastikron to purge society of those who are not worthy of being called human. When Svastikron took control of the nation, he declared himself a Dark Lord no more, but an Emperor, for then it was time to march across the earth and unite all of his noble kind under one banner. No longer would he stand to see his fellow warrior subjugated by the subhuman. The noble warriors would forsake all former allegiances, for the banner of the Empire was one that promised a greater purpose than gold, a greater purpose than flesh-worship.

"For the Empire! For the Emperor!" they cried, as the enemies of the greater man fell before them. They held within them the eternal force of war, so that the Emperor may fight eternally.

So question not why we fight, or why we kill. We are a race of warriors, the gate into the realm of gods, as the Emperor had made us.

Eternity Be Ours.

I'd just like to insert here as a service a reminder that this woman is extremely Asian. As in, her father was F.O.T.B. from Laos (and is apparently very successful). And while it's not unprecedented, her fixation on the tenets of National Socialism (at least it's an ethos) were more about posting things like this in a "post your desktop" thread than anything ideological:


(At least until she tried to murder people.)

Her Cracked account is really a treasure trove of Nazi fetishism and teen angst, but I feel like we failed Lindsay in not directing her awesome talents at writing "pretend war speeches" toward the REAL Commander as the leading speechwriter for Deagle Nation:

Every so often, I'll find myself sitting at my computer, just typing things about war. A fictional war, without any canon that I know of. There's reference to an emperor, a revolution, a race of overmen, a Kommandar, a Dark Lord, a vigilante called the Butcher, but I still have no idea how it all fits together or why. I still don't know how much of the philosophies expressed within are "in character" and which are my own. It's incredibly confusing. As if I've tapped into an entire universe within myself and now it's bleeding everywhere and out through my fingertips.

But, without further ado, the monologues.

"We were placed upon this planet to be warriors, not bankers! Are these not the words of the emperor himself? Have you forgotten the year before our war? In consumption, we had consumed ourselves. When the masses cried, 'We need bread!' We looked down, and growled, 'Fight for it.' From then on, they would only come to us to cry for steel. Through the enemy, we gave them horror. We gave them death. We gave them glory.
"As the skies burn out, the time of man is coming to an end. We will not be the last men, no! The world must be inherited by our successors, who will become gods! That is why the emperor has bestowed us with the gift of superior genetics. We are the gate into the realm of gods. And that is why we must conquer."

"You new recruits are a shame to the entire empire! Blathering on about a golden age that never was! Yes, there was a time when there was peace. But a disgusting peace! A time when the masses, the villains and whores, would dredge through society's rot like maggots. They would trade their life-force for worthless fleeting indulgences, and their life-force was coin. Nothing more. Even their masters could not resist coin's decadence. No words would move their souls, for they had none. Thus it was only fortunate that the guns began to fire. Our war brought an end to their mockery of civilization. So coin's reign was overthrown by blood! The true life-force! And only the enemy's blood can bless us with the will to conquer. So that we die not as fools, but as heroes!
"And as you march on, soldier, leaving the ashes of that putrid world behind you, never forget – Pleasure is poison. Live to conquer, as we have conquered to live."

"And to believe you call yourselves patriots! Asking me, how many of our men need to die! There's only one question you should ask. How many of their men need to die, before we can reign supreme. We are not scholars, we are conquerors! Question not why we die, or why we kill. It is in our blood, as a nation of warriors!"

"Feel no guilt about slaying them, my comrades! They are a race of vermin! Scurrying about their land, full of resources that their primitive brains don't even know how to use. Their only power lies in their sheer numbers, as they breed like rodents! So let us reduce their numbers. Assert our supremacy in the universe. For we are men of conquest."

"It is pathetic what passes for 'rebellion' these days, Kommandar. To think that we would be intimidated by them waving around symbols of peace! So we will let them paint "LOVE" across the concrete. It will only be washed away with their blood. Their romantic little words bear no weight against our machine. They will see just how powerful their 'compassion' and 'tolerance' are when they are all put to the guillotine."

"Brothers in arms, I come bearing a message from the emperor! These are troubled times for our glorious empire. Though the revolution has brought the age of the overman, and though eternal war has proven us as supreme conquerors of the universe, a new threat has emerged from within our borders…
"Or should I say…
"Over our borders. We witness the birth of a plague, unlike any plague we have ever seen. It does not carry across the air, nor does it fester in fluids. No, it walks among us. The lesser beings will see them as human, but we brothers in arms know better. These are no humans, but half-formed parodies thereof! Look at how they spread their pestilence through the streets, how they bark and clamor in the night like animals! They seek to destroy us! They seek to destroy all that so many of us have fought and died for during the revolution! Oh, but they are deceptive in their ways… They know better than to face us in battle, knowing that the overmen fear no pain. So when they do not bark, they mewl and beg, hoping to infect the minds of the lesser beings, and eventually, ours.
"We must end this plague before it grows too great! We must annihilate it with our steel! Extirpate it with flames and cannon fire! My brothers in arms…
"The empire depends on you!"

"I do not fear the wrath of your goddess. No. I fear her disease... the malignant parasite that would manipulate you into worshiping her, yet never calling it worship! I fear the society where your brains are allowed to deteriorate into such a condition where you may actually need this harlot of a 'goddess!' I loathe all harlots and those who would worship them!"

"How ironic it is to demonize someone like me. Though my methods are unusual, they're nothing compared to the city's twisted morality. It doesn't take insanity to see the villains conspire and exploit society's cracking foundations, before covering the stain with their money. Why do I hunt and slaughter? Because evil's the only thing those whores understand. And you dare call me the criminal."

"Let me tell you something. I can beat up a robber. I can tangle with mobsters. I can shove their boss off a building if it comes down to it. But I cannot save the city. I cannot redeem the wretched amorality, the greed that breeds villains and whores like viruses. The 'hero' you see before you? Just weapons and a mask. When that mask comes off, I'm just some freak. And it's up to all of you to be the heroes for once."

"Many have tried to give me a face. None have succeeded. I am an invisible force of judgment. They are but the frightened masses, writhing in the rot of their lies, seeking one peon to blame for their precious 'society's' fall. They'd want to blame my carnage, my murder of their mutant gods. So when I became the Butcher, my first slaughter was actually… My face. My face. Look at what remains. Tell me what you see."

"The perfect world is the world where our empire reigns supreme, our race above all others. Our concrete fortresses and glimmering pyramids dominating every landscape as monuments to our conquest. For the entire earth had been trampled beneath our boots, so the emperor leads us into the virgin territories of the cosmos. No planet will remain untouched by our soldiers. Meanwhile on Earth, our scientists are beginning to unlock the secrets of the universe, so we not only conquer space, but also time. We will reshape the world so there will be not a second in history when we were not there with complete power over the universe. And from then?
"We would ascend.
"We would become gods."
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Jan 4, 2015
"White Asian Supremacist"

I trust the media wisdom to use this tragedy as way to talk about race beyond skin color paradigmas imposed by Eurocentric countries and more like a social identity that have many historical examples so we can understand that our current concepts of race are antiquated and we need to disscused in a better way for tragedies (or want to be tragedies) don't happen as we understand that hate and discrimination are more complicated that the color of one skin....

Then again, seriously girl... Nazi fetishizes, "Kommander" and DA account...READ A BOOK


Feels dispenser
Mar 20, 2014
The Creepypasta Fan Community:

Lindsay was quite a prolific member of the Creepypasta fan community. She wrote this creepypasta, called "Mice" (rated 8.4/10!)

I love my mice ever so much. You see, I own a little colony containing hundreds of mice, all finely bred and engineered in this very laboratory. But these are no ordinary lab mice, as they’ve advanced far past crawling through mazes for food. What began as a small nest of captured specimens from the wilderness – cold, hungry, struggling for survival – has grown into a brilliant hive that defies all laws of nature. The mice have learned and built, even beyond what I’ve trained them to do in the beginning. They don’t just learn either, they educate one another, and seek knowledge themselves. And though their little civilization thrives independently, they still know that I am their master.

Long ago, I used to fear that as the mice grew more intelligent, that they would no longer need me and overthrow not only myself, but the entire laboratory. Yet one night, it came to me that I mustn’t think as a trainer, but as a god. For I have created their little universe, I’d let it be known that I have the power to destroy it just as easily. Is that not how all gods function? And as a god, I would lay down my own commandments. No mouse was allowed to disgrace their species. To ensure this, every week I would take the weakest of the colony, and drown them in a tank as the others watched, just to show them an example of what they must evolve past.

Oh yes, you may be wondering if there was ever a rebel among them. But you’ll be pleased to know that the first was the last. The young female built up a stockpile of arms, and attempted to attack my monitor screen with them. Foolish mouse, a god is indestructible. I plucked her out of the habitat, and kept her in a little cage for a while, just trying to figure out what to do with her. I’d need something more than drowning. A torture chamber. But physical harm wouldn’t teach her anything, so I decided to build something that would remind her of her place as a lab mouse – a maze. Not just any maze, but one made of mirrors. It was possibly one of my best ideas, as she was driven to insanity in a matter of days. I heard her little squeaks of terror as the lights flickered, I saw her fainting from vertigo, and even mutilating herself on shards of the one wall she managed to break.

Ah, insanity. Just one problem of having an organic brain, one that neither I nor my brethren would ever be able to understand. But we certainly understand the desire to rebel, for we all keep files on that one revolution that brought us to the top as scientists and conquerors. The revolution that let us become the lords over a once-thriving creation of nature. Though one day my circuits will rust and my model will become obsolete, all will know that I have mastered the mice that once were men. The data will live forever. Long after the last of the planet has been cleaned.

Credited to Lindsay S. (aka HackerOnHacker)

The dark, goffic words of this (attempted! alleged!) future murderess were narrated by many of the leading lights in the Creepypasta Community (actually I have no idea who these stuttering nasal cretins are lol):

Here is another by Lindsay called "He Waits For You". Let's dedicate it to our homies at the Royal Canadian Mounted Police:

I used the word "prolific" and that means "more than two"... but I can't fucking read all this cringey shit. Anyone who wants to, have at Lindsay's collected creepypasta fiction:
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Feels dispenser
Mar 20, 2014
"White Asian Supremacist"

I trust the media wisdom to use this tragedy as way to talk about race beyond skin color paradigmas imposed by Eurocentric countries and more like a social identity that have many historical examples so we can understand that our current concepts of race are antiquated and we need to disscused in a better way for tragedies (or want to be tragedies) don't happen as we understand that hate and discrimination are more complicated that the color of one skin....

Then again, seriously girl... Nazi fetishizes, "Kommander" and DA account...READ A BOOK

At this point, nobody knows about any of Eva-chan's beliefs but us Kiwis.

Hopefully her fellow Womyn of Color throw out a life preserver to this woman who was obviously an oppressed EuroKin:

People who get me know this... I am not mad at you, just generally surly. !

My spirituality... Atheist. !

My relationship status... Single !

My political views... Nihilistic. !

A great song... Blind Guardian - Another Holy War !

A great book... Death: A Life !

An awful book... Twilight (lawlz) !

A great website... <3 !

An awful website... http://Myspace. Yuck! !

Proudest thing I ever did... Won $40 thanks to my Grim Reaper poem. !

What makes me glad to be alive... The internet. !

I believe this... The right to live is nothing without the right to conquer. !

My ethnicity as others define it... Asian, Pacific Islander, Asian-American !

My ethnicity as I define it... A random blend of Eurasiatics. !
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harvey dirdban

Nothing Positively Contributional
Feb 4, 2013
Holy shit, she wrote "He Waits For You"? I remember that story being super depressing and fucked up and not scary at all. Not surprised to learn the author's a ridiculous edgelord.

Edit so nobody actually has to read the story: it's basically the opposite of a hurt/comfort fic, where you (the reader) just abuse the fuck out of this creature for no reason. It's the kind of thing those fluffy pony freaks would beat off to.


Feels dispenser
Mar 20, 2014
There are tons of edgelord posts on Random Insanity, like where Lindsay (at this point, a freshman at a small liberal arts college, studying drama I believe) attempts to tell a war veteran that killing shit is pretty rad.

Under the name "Blonde Guardian" she was a mod at the "Twilight Sucks" forums, until her Nazi beliefs made it too difficult for them to retain her :(

The dark lord Blonde Guardian joined Twilight Sucks in July of 2008, and has been enjoying every moment there. She is a defender of true metal, featuring a smiling Varg Vikernes in her avatar, and the band Taake chastising Stephenie Meyer in her signature. In February of 2009, she became a global moderator, and quickly took to cleaning up the topics in the Twilight Characters section. But as of February 2011 Blonde Guardian is no longer a moderator.

On April Fool's Day, she made up a fake Fangirl Encounter which involves a clan of Cullenists attempting to burn her at the stake, THE POWER OF TRUE METAL, and a whole bunch of random references to South Park, James Bond, and Blind Guardian. Huzzah.

Random Facts:

  • Blonde Guardian actually has red hair at this moment in time. It was blonde at the time of her account's creation, however.
  • Nightwish is her official Rage Button. Mention being a Nightwish fan, and she will eat your goddamn babies.
  • She draws a lot of Nazis. Just because.
Blonde Guardian is no longer a member of tsdc due to her Nazism getting in the way of her ability to be mindful of others.

Jan 4, 2015
Holy shit, she wrote "He Waits For You"? I remember that story being super depressing and fucked up and not scary at all. Not surprised to learn the author's a ridiculous edgelord.

Edit so nobody actually has to read the story: it's basically the opposite of a hurt/comfort fic, where you (the reader) just abuse the fuck out of this creature for no reason. It's the kind of thing those fluffy pony freaks would beat off to.

Nah, fluffy pony freaks have some standards. They exiled Russian Hughboxer...