Wolfie

From where did you cut, paste and poach much of this respectable semi-journalism, you typically thick fucking wench?

She hasn't got the balls.

At least their wheelchairs provide a defensive barrier.

You've undoubtedly made up for lost time. I bet you're hung like a fucking bull.

Clearly not.

Time of the month, or did this become biologically impossible some years ago?

I hope this recent heatwave hasn't prompted a premature, annual trimming of the bush, Gyps. Dyno Rod's call-out fees are expensive these days.

No, I think he has. Often, when I turn on the news to see somewhere in China or Korea or any other place in which they treat animals despicably has been annihilated via earthquake, the first thing I think of are the dogs and cats who no longer have to suffer at the hands of these barbaric shitcunts.

To receive praise from the very top of the leaderboard is a most fitting accolade.

I've just tuned in to watch Argentina vs Croatia to see 'Willy' printed on one of the keeper's gloves and 'Messi' in the background. It sounds like an evening in Roops' knickers.

Your themed avatar changes really do confirm the deepest of suspicions, don't they?

You're getting them confused with your caravan-dwelling, inbred, moustachioed siblings, known throughout the pikey community as the 'Knuckle Brothers'.

It's the first time the vacaucus chutney sandwich has said anything worthy of recognition, though I'm convinced one care home nurse is £5 and a toothless blowjob better off this evening.

You're right. I have a hunch May delivered her last blowjob three years prior to this photo, while Sturgeon looks as though she's been farting out spunk all morning.

I'd opt for the reporter in the stripey skirt.

Charlie Uniform November Tango.

Perhaps 'videon' is a special magazine-via-video 'build one as you buy' tutorial, in which its cult transgender readership subscribes to a new part, DVD and little bottle of poppers with each issue to eventually assemble a huge, brutal sex toy known as the 'Dildon'. Isn't this correct, Pen, you cock-juggling thundercunt?

Who would it be, Bacon, if you were forced to choose by a sadist? Assume Baws has you seamlessly blackmailed.

This doesn't tell the whole story. Blair's government threw billions into the NHS – much of which was pointlessly wasted. Beast?

Oh Gyps. Much as I try I can't deny your Romany charm is drawing me in. I've always gone for mildly vacuous birds I can easily win an argument with (I adore stewardesses and hairdressers), yet happily give up a wank for once in a while to satisfy when the fancying stage is over. You'd absolutely love my curries. I think you'd like my fruit smoothies, too, served with a special jus du Wolf.

Do you? I see you've replaced your avatar of a man's arse following the rightful cunting you received about it, yet can't seem to get away from mentioning the word 'bum' (with your trademark image of a shitting dog). For how long have you had an issue with scat, 'R-soles'?

You can have a like for this, MC. While you're clearly wanting in many areas, chiefly intelligence and modesty, you have no fear when posting. It's refreshing to see such a heartfelt mountain of shite from one of the site's leading gorillas. If you're racist, or what others deem as being so, they have the right to choose not to listen to your comments. While using phrases such as 'but she hates browns and noirs as much as anyone who has had bad life experiences with them' will undoubtedly cause offense, those offended do not have the right to restrict someone else's freedom of speech in the process. For your benefit, I think Roops realises this. While she has many faults, her taming of some of your remarkable comments in the past, on a website unique enough to provide you a platform to spew your shite, has probably prevented more interest from others who might wish to make an example of you – and this place. From your perspective, she's worthy of a little more respect.

With your renowned written skills, why don't you take the helm?

Admittedly I have been taking a keen interest in Frank's clothing of late. It's my uncle's 70th in three weeks and I'm running short on ideas.