Just because I have higher aspirations in literary endeavors, that my erudition permeates my writing, shining through as my inner beauty despite what you might say about my exterior, does not mean you must feel jealous, squatting in ignorant ramblings and unintelligible style. Oh and by the way, take that dildo and shove it up your vagina, its the only action you're going to get since your inch-long isn't getting any action queerass.
Well don't be a fucking masochist, you sleazebag, because I know my insults hurt. I can tell you are probably crying into a quart of ice cream, clutched over the computer, because you know I will always be better than you, in debate and music and location and everything else you can bother to mention.