Lock this shit and delete it @sufi
if you wouldn’t mind
, I’ve stumbled across some anaemic plebs during my time on Earth, a few genuine gimps yet you sit among a pantheon of the more tragically character natured and gift this country what it suffers from most - pedants, fools and their hubristic boredom
You spent 3 years like a child with Biscetti and HmmGuv continually spun in circles being made a fool out, a constantly surreal spectacle within these ltd function modes - the worst fuckin puns in god’s creation, quips, pedantic flouncing, more shit jokes you know no-one finds funny but insist on anyway, all from your hobbit pile in merry south west Englande. A man so ltd (but you’re very much aware of your limitations, aren’t you Oliver) you wasted years going round in circles with your fellow mong lords
Problem for you is I’m neither Biscetti or HmmGuv and exchanges feel like kicking a small, furry halfwit around and no-one wants
to kick little creatures around, do they. Not even with their dim-eyed, balding, pale, limply crumple-limbed stringy bodies, wrapped up in a stale dressing gown. We all entertain these ideas, naturally. Extreme velocity to pale, balding, gimpy Anglo-Saxon fuckhead faces, but we don’t bestow such kindnesses on people we find repugnant through their unyielding inanity and lack of depth
I don’t log in here to make people’s days worse Oliver, so my recommendation is for you to ignore my profile and stay out of my way from now on, go and get your Harry Potter outfit out cos it’s monday night after all and play wizards while sifting through dried poppies. Again. I think of a possible friendship, then I realise you’re a just a sad cunt lost in countless miseries of your own making. And if you’re not so fuckin miserable, why are your posts interminably so? Reading you is like watching Pointless with Beatrix Potter illustrations
And that’s the problem with the many men like you Tea, you have no internal filter or existential focus (despite being a father, which is staggering). You stand for nothing, zero, nada other than a career spent maintaining spreadsheets in your sheltered, fearful existence. You think I’m going to miss a bunch of puns Des O’Connor wouldn’t pay for?