Originally Posted by faceking

NineInchCock must die.

Whoops. I meant that in a philosophical sense... err emotional sense, errrr nevermind...

with battery cables, a garden weasel, 3 quarts of 10W-40, a vile of polonium and a vile of strontium mixed in his belly button, amidst an orgy of 31 verile muskrats on crystal meth fornicating on his face. with joan rivers calling the play-by-play of his slow excruciating death.