I am sorry for leaving you all those years ago, my son. I have to admit, I wasn't going to the store to get milk; I was leaving you and your trollop of a mother. Ever since you were a child you resembled a hob goblin I once encountered in Varrock sewers. Because of this, I felt an increasingly strong level contempt for your deformed face and wrecked little body. Needless to say, I have no plans to return to you and your mother, I simply wanted to clear my thoughts. Anyway, take your crusty, markety craig, crocodile mouth lookin ass to your room and slam the door on your tiny litte prick a bakers dozen times and put a garden hose down your throat.

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average vertigo enjoyer

+rep is god at cs