d a r k s i d e

My, personalized, custom insult:
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. Who the hell told you that you are attractive? Mr. Magoo? You're the kind pathological liar who even lies to an insult generator. All left-wingers are chronic alcoholics who molest small animals, masturbate behind bushes, and wear fish-net tights while singing Elton John songs. You four-eyed, cerebrally-deluded, Einstein-impersonating, pseudo-intellectual nerdturd with a head full of misfiring synapses. Tall people are crap in bed. Your weight may well be proportional, but you've got cellulite that makes sumo wrestlers look anorexic. Get a job, you goddamn leach! You're as useful as a handbrake on a canoe, you clog-hopping simpleton. 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.

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