Bleating of the lambs
There’s always this one person you know who just doesn’t know when to shut the hell up. That one person who has an ill-informed opinion on everything. That one person who’s jaw you’d love to ‘accidentally’ break with a steel pipe.
They’ll usually be someone you meet often. Someone you’ve known for a very long time. And they just seem to get louder as their heads become emptier.
Listen up you loud-mouthed, ignorant, arrogant, stupid little f***. I’ve had enough your sanctimonious speeches and moronic clichés. Spare me your ‘opinions’ that you borrowed from whatever retarded TV show you watch at home in your underwear. Maybe if you had the guts to have an opinion of your own, I would hate you less. Actually no, I’d hate you just as much, but at least I would have some smidgen of respect for you.
We both know you’re about as intelligent as a brain damaged lamb except you’re much louder and far more irritating. All you can do when confronted with a perfectly normal question is bounce around, salivate and bleat stupidly.
I’m done tolerating your loud mouth and tiny brain. If you so much as beep within twenty feet of me again, I swear I will ram the aforementioned steel pipe down your throat and shout obscenities down the opening while I watch you bleed to death.
Watch out, you whiny pathetic waste of oxygen.
You’re on my list.