Eat shit, jerkface. I ought to kick a pencil up your dickhole for even thinking of looking at this.
Your mother, so I could convince her to have an abortion. One of those late-term ones, so you feel prenatal pain.
Who the fuck cares? Uh, let me see: "omg rolling stonz are soo great mick jaggger RoCkS!!11!!11!11!" Seriously, I hate the Rolling Stones almost as much as I hate you. Mick Jagger could be on a plane, the same plane as you. When you go to use the bathroom (since you already soiled yourself at the anticipation of being strip-searched at the airport) you open the door to find good old, old, OLD Mick drinking cat piss out of a bottle he brought on board. You join in, jerking him off as you do it. Oh shit, the plane goes down and you both die painfully engulfed in flames and covered in cat piss.Somewhere, as I lay on my couch passed out, I could not give two shits less.
Now movies? Holy hell, I hate you myspace.com. I won't even dignify this with an insult.
COPS, Desperate Housewives, if that's still a popular show, and Good Morning America! Shit a brick and smash your face in with it, whats the fucking point to all this? If you like the shows I mentioned, kill yourself. Wait, even if you don't, you're still reading this. Kill yourself anyway.
The mere thought of wasting my time demeaning myself to explain to some voyeur internet fuck (you) by listing the novels I enjoy makes me ill to the point of...wait, hold on...sorry, I threw up a little. You make me THAT sick.PS - I'm not sorry. Die.
The sweet specter of Death, because thankfully, he comes to claim all of you assholes at some point.