A Love Letter To A Total Loser
I supposedly know better than to talk with diehard fascists, and make no mistake, they are out there.
The culture wars have hardened them beyond anything I’ve seen in my lifetime. They’re completely insane.
It may be difficult to believe, you toilet bowl-licker, but I’m actually a nice person who obeys social norms.
I’m polite in stores or restaurants. I open doors for others. I watch for children playing. I help moms with crying babies. I wait at stops. I don’t speed.
I look in after our older neighbors. I taught for 20 years with no disputes in the classroom: I never raised my voice.
That said, fella, I’d just like to share with you my opinion of you and your brothers in hate.
You’re so low you could qualify for a USGS survey of the earth’s core.
It’s a damn shame the healthcare system is in the shape it’s in because if anybody needed an affordable dose of testosterone, it’s you, Mr. Low-T.
Your verbal attacks and inability to communicate other than in incoherent insults?
I’d be concerned about your family if I thought you actually had one.
Gotta figure the last time a woman looked at you was 1982: and she was calling the cops.
COVID came to your house, took one look at you, and left.
If you had any brains at all, they leaked out through your nostrils back in 2000.
Your application for Nazi Party membership was rejected: even they have minimum IQ standards.
It’s your kind’s style to go after someone’s looks, but in addition to your special personality, I’m sorry to say that you make Danny DeVito look like George Clooney.
Sometimes what’s on the inside really does show on the outside.
Your own mother moved to Manitoba to get away from you and is looking at a cottage north of the Arctic Circle.