| Technically, you're a man. Technically, so is a she-male Ladyboy from Thailand. In reality, you're nothing more than a pitiful gin-sodden excuse for anything other than a rancid fuckweasle! Married, eh? Since when did brother and sister marriages become legal? The last time I saw something as fugly as you, I was cleaning up after my dog. I've seen better looking road kill. Calling you a pea brain would be an insult to peas, you jellyfish-sucking mental midget. Did your mother leave you in the dryer too long when you were a kid, you little tap-dancing Leprechaun in a pink wig? Be careful you don't bump your head on the door handle on the way out. If you were ever kidnapped and eaten by a cannibal tribe, they'd all die of high cholesterol, you fat, flabby, fumbling fuck. You couldn't get a job cleaning shit off a toilet, you utterly useless wrinkled balloon in a muddy puddle of goat's piss. I've come across decomposing animal carcasses that are less offensive than you are. |
