The double popped collar
Makes you look so brotastic
That I’m sure you piss natty ice

I wouldn’t wipe my ass with the slime you wade in that calls itself your friends
You remind me of drool
You degenerate sipper of pond scum
I hope that a leech eats your face
Because the karmic justice would do you good

I think you should kill yourself to save humanity the trouble of Darwin awarding your ass

I’m certain you live at the zoo
(Really, who let you out?)
Because they don’t let animals like you walk freely

Looking at you reminds me of ground beef; fatty, greasy, and smelling like meat
I don’t see how it is you legitimately believe that any woman would be able to hold back her gag reflex when looking at you

The idea of you being cool has all the irony of a chemo patient smoking ten
cigarettes while riding Chernobyl.

I don’t need the least excuse to hate you
Because you are you
And that belies the sad truth of your existence

Failure is your middle name
I hope someone affixes a kick me sign to your back with a staple gun
I want to see those around you have so much fun

Your suffering is our pleasure