And then 
What a putrid putrid waste of a penis you are, you ridiculous little mascara face-painted Jerk-In-The-Box. You couldn't get a date if you bought them dried in a tin, you under-medicated, rump-ruptured chronic self-abuser. You're the kind of greasy, giggling, girly gombeen who buys STDs from a viral lab just to make it look like you get laid. You're damn right about being vomit-inducing fugly. You have a face that would give Freddie Kruger nightmares. How much would you change to haunt a house? You should stop smoking pot and get out and vote every couple of years, you pseudo-liberal bum. People like you are the reason cults exist. If brains were gasoline, you wouldn't have enough to run a piss ant's go-kart around the inside of a donut. 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. I bet the highway patrol make you wear a sign on your fat ass that reads, 'Caution: Wide Load!' I bet you have to take your salary to the bank because it's too small to go by itself, you pathetic ne'er-do-well. I love that suit you're wearing. You never throw anything away, do you? Try this maneuver: Take 50-60 paces backwards. Take several deep breaths. Sprint forward at full speed. Do a triple summersault through the air, and disappear up your own asshole.
What a putrid putrid waste of a penis you are, you ridiculous little mascara face-painted Jerk-In-The-Box. You couldn't get a date if you bought them dried in a tin, you under-medicated, rump-ruptured chronic self-abuser. You're the kind of greasy, giggling, girly gombeen who buys STDs from a viral lab just to make it look like you get laid. You're damn right about being vomit-inducing fugly. You have a face that would give Freddie Kruger nightmares. How much would you change to haunt a house? You should stop smoking pot and get out and vote every couple of years, you pseudo-liberal bum. People like you are the reason cults exist. If brains were gasoline, you wouldn't have enough to run a piss ant's go-kart around the inside of a donut. 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. I bet the highway patrol make you wear a sign on your fat ass that reads, 'Caution: Wide Load!' I bet you have to take your salary to the bank because it's too small to go by itself, you pathetic ne'er-do-well. I love that suit you're wearing. You never throw anything away, do you? Try this maneuver: Take 50-60 paces backwards. Take several deep breaths. Sprint forward at full speed. Do a triple summersault through the air, and disappear up your own asshole.
: What are you going to do for a face when the monkey wants his ass back? 
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