Complacent, half-assed bastard.
All you're good for is a measure of displacement.
Like an ornament, in this ineffiecient oval seating arrangement.
A herding clown, in a circus of mutant animalia.
A leaky fountain, pumping social insolence and homophobia.
you're a measure of public disgrace, and for you, I hold infinite distaste.
What the fuck, Mr. X?