You swine. You vulgar little maggot. You worthless bag of filth. As they
say in Texas. I'll bet you couldn't pour piss out of a boot with
instructions on the heel. You are a canker. A sore that won't go away. I
would rather kiss a lawyer than be seen with you.
You're a putrescent mass, a walking vomit. You are a spineless little
worm deserving nothing but the profoundest contempt. You are a jerk,
a cad, a weasel. Your life is a monument to stupidity. You are a stench,
a revulsion, a big suck on a sour lemon.
You are a bleating foal, a curdled staggering mutant dwarf smeared
richly with the effluvia and offal accompanying your alleged birth into
this world. An insensate, blinking calf, meaningful to nobody,
abandoned by the puke-drooling, giggling beasts who sired you and
then killed themselves in recognition of what they had done.
I will never get over the embarrassment of belonging to the same
species as you. You are a monster, an ogre, a malformity. I barf at the
very thought of you. You have all the appeal of a paper cut. Lepers
avoid you. You are vile, worthless, less than nothing. You are a weed,
a fungus, the dregs of this earth. And did I mention you smell?
Try to edit your responses of unnecessary material before attempting
to impress us with your insight. The evidence that you are a
nincompoop will still be available to readers, but they will be able to
access it more rapidly.
You snail-skulled little rabbit. Would that a hawk pick you up, drive its
beak into your brain, and upon finding it rancid set you loose to fly
briefly before spattering the ocean rocks with the frothy pink shame of
your ignoble blood. May you choke on the queasy, convulsing nausea
of your own trite, foolish beliefs.
You are weary, stale, flat and unprofitable. You are grimy, squalid,
nasty and profane. You are foul and disgusting. You're a fool, an
ignoramus. Monkeys look down on you. Even sheep won't have sex
with you. You are unreservedly pathetic, starved for attention, and lost
in a land that reality forgot.
And what meaning do you expect your delusionally self-important
statements of unknowing, inexperienced opinion to have with us? What
fantasy do you hold that you would believe that your tiny-fisted
tantrums would have more weight than that of a leprous desert rat,
spinning rabidly in a circle, waiting for the bite of the snake? You are a
waste of flesh. You have no rhythm. You are ridiculous and obnoxious.
You are the moral equivalent of a leech. You are a living emptiness, a
meaningless void. You are sour and senile. You are a disease, you
puerile one-handed slack-jawed drooling meatslapper.
On a good day you're a half-wit. You remind me of drool. You are
deficient in all that lends character. You have the personality of
wallpaper. You are dank and filthy. You are asinine and benighted. You
are the source of all unpleasantness. You spread misery and sorrow
wherever you go. |
