You f****** hunchback grunting trenchcoat mafia wannabe. Hiding in your cave, making love to your ammo for decades. Hunchback physique of a mailbox with your head sticking out the front. Arms stiff. Fists clenched but not one day of real exercise you atrophied piece of fungus. Hah, you need mommy or the guards to take care of you, lazy lump of pus. If you reject everyone. They reject you back. “You should be scared because look how I trash myself” should be your slogan. Ooh no one will mess with you again. You were queer for me in some creepy daddy fantasy way huh. Still are probably. No way can I validate your level of fear and denial, and sorry I am straight. Admot you are a home. Yay sleep with your rifles. You can’t even hold a job. Never try to reach me. You are a googly-eyed slick of vomit.
