What? Again? Is it for real this time?
I hear lots of sanctimony, but little in the way of answering my questions other than with gratuitous assertions that can just as gratuitously be denied.
And if I didn't matter, your conscience wouldn't be so pricked to justify your moral failure.
You can do better than that.
C'mon, leave a parting shot that really gets nasty. You know I don't want to reply, so the game here is to try to get me to respond to pure filth. And this is the best you can do? See, I leave myself wide open, and you still can't do it right.
Okay, one more time. Something really nasty. Something I'll simple HAVE to respond to. Think of how much you hate those sick fags, the ones you don't believe deserve acknowledgement of their very humanity. Slam down a few beers. You know, work yourself up. Then take aim, and go ahead - vomit out your filthy mind.
I won't stop you, I promise. Go ahead - let's see what you've got.
Do it, punk. Lemme have it. I'm smiling at you.