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You don't know your fucking head from a camel's asshole. So shut the fuck up, little boy. Go suck your loverboy Simon's engorged 3-cm penis. I hope you die. No, wait, wishing death is bad for your karma. Hmmm... I hope you get a painful, bothersome, and incurable but non-fatal disease. Something like herpes or genital warts. Or ugly facial lesions. And I hope your tongue and penis get ripped off with a rusty spoon and are fed to ravenous geckos and you bleed almost to death and spend the rest of your life as a vegatable on life support with no tongue and no dick. Wait, you don't have a dick. Oh well, then I hope a drunken circus clown performs a hysterectomy on you with a broken eggbeater. I hope Newt Gingrich sodomizes you with a pitchfork and shoves salt and lemon juice up your ass when he finishes. I hope you get beaten by a bunch of drunken rednecks who mistake you for an effigy of a Jehovah's Witness. I hope a mutated squirrel chews your eyes out and feeds them to your mother for breakfast. I hope you get hit in the stomach with a sledgehammer and you puke so hard that a loop of intestines comes out your mouth and gets flushed down the toilet bowl. I hope a passing battletank runs over you and severs your legs off. I hope...
Wishing the worst,
Lionel
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