Quincy politely asked why anyone would want to sleep with a hooker. I pulled you up on your meaningless response, only to be subjected to some child-like fucking waffle that could have been summed up in three words.
Kill yourself.
I could create a sorry effigy of ding in the garden, film myself attacking him with a spade, then do a little jig to a tune of your choice. Would that ease your worries?
Bill's not wrong, Ape. For the life of me, I can't see what purpose there is in you existing here. You're like a mikeD, Scotty and Gyppo.. all rolled up into one big pile of shit.
You have no idea how I've struggled with Bill. The punk ID, as you'd imagine, was created solely for Ape and his wife.. I tap that shit out blindfolded. Bill's a little more technical.
Was it the 'playing pool with my mates' nom that gave it away?