The ♥♥♥♥ did ya just call me, ♥♥♥♥? I’ll have ya know I graduated top of me class at Sunshine TAFE, I’ve been involved in numerous beer skulling contests against Bob Hawke, and I have over 300 confirmed Cold Chisel albums. I am trained in vocal abuse towards umpires and I am the top snag eater in the entire city of Carlton. You are nothing to me but just another Collingwood fan. I will knock ya the ♥♥♥♥ out with VB stubbies the likes of which have never been smashed before on this Earth, mark me ♥♥♥♥♥♥ words. You reckon ya can get away with flapping ya beak to me over the Internet? Think again, ♥♥♥♥. As we speak I am contacting all me ♥♥♥♥♥♥ lads across Western Sydney and ya IP is being traced right now so ya better prepare for the thunder, mate. The thunder that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call ya life. You’re ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ dead, prick. I can be anywhere, anytime, drinking anything, and I can glass you in over seven hundred ways, and that’s just with me smashed VB longneck. Not only am I extensively trained in smashing ♥♥♥♥♥, but I have access to the entire shed of cricket bats of the Melbourne Cricket Ground and I will use it to its full extent to hit ya for 6 and out, ya ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥. If only ya coulda known what ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ your little “clever” backchat was about ta bring down upon ya, maybe ya woulda held your ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ tongue. But ya couldn’t, ya didn’t, and now you’re paying the price, mate. I will ♥♥♥♥ fury all over ya and you’re gonna drown in it, so ya better run, ya better take cover. You’re ♥♥♥♥♥♥ dead, mate.