Now this is interesting.
Now this is funny.
Now this is a fucking challenge.
For the longest time, insignificant bottom feeders like Cuntfish have been my only source of sparring entertainment. But not now. Now my trouble has doubled (suppressing laughter). The mighty hitch has crawled out of his basement apartment and pointed the finger of God at me.
Please.
Shut the fuck up for once has been. I am not impressed, nor am I threatened.
There is only one person I answer to and only one person who could ever ban me - Sarge. If he has a problem with something I do, I will know about it.
The last time I heard from hitch, he complimented me on my posting style and said some nice things...and now all this. Sad how this talentless bitch has to rattle my cage in an effort to repackage his tired act and make himself relevent again.
Drunk with fucking power? What douche bag always reminds people who #2 is? Who demands a sticky to validate his contributions while masking a deeper rooted insecurity?
The franchise player who deserted his team. Sounds less like a leader and more like a broken chump screaming for attention.
So run your little polls, thow some tourettes infused "uh, uh, uh" bullshit my way and blow more empty smoke. Such big words from a tired nostalgia act.
Mezro...now wipe that rental load from your face and check your speculum twice...you are about to eat shit...and here comes your first slice...