You are supposed to be a family man. You have two infant sons. You should be performing paternal duties. You should be out earning money and busting your ass for the benefit of your young sons. You are not doing that, Vladinator. You are not well off, Vladinator. I know you're not well off. If you were well off and didn't have to live off government cheese and handouts from the Catholic church, then you would at least be able to keep a common housecat for a pet. You are so dirt poor that you can

None of them have a redeeming quality to them. They're easily the most putrid collection of retarded mongrels I have EVER seen in my life. Take for instance, this bloated sack. That's Linda, and she looks like the fucking Grinch That Stole Christmas. Notice how The Grinch is balding. That is hilarious and sickening at the same time. Double chin, cokebottle glasses. What a filthy slag. Beyond repair, destined to work the rest of

You pile of scum! You dastardly bastard! You represent everything which is socially unacceptable! You condemn the real proletariat, yet you have been unemployed for months! You're the ugliest self- consoling perpetual victim ever to have existed! If you lived in the lovely city of Montréal, you'd be part of the 14% unemployed demographic! You sack of rotting filth! Your business performs so poorly that you claim to be unemployed rather than self-employed. What a heaping mass of gelatin and

Did you see this hot little number? I had my way with that for three hours in Reza's hospital room. Reza didn't like it, but who gives a fuck. She's a bed-ridden fatty exhausted from birth, there's not a flying fuck she could have done about it anyhow. As you can see, her eyes are the size of dinner plates as I brought my pants' fly down, exposing my man-meat to her. Sec

Vladinator, Cock Cockwood, WSL3, whatever you call youself these days, I am not associated with this so-called Anti-Vlad Triad you seem obsessed with. I can tell you, however, with one-hundred percent accuracy: you're an irritating fuck, and that's why I berate you with my masterful authoring skills which exceed yours by several hundred orders of magnitude. I was ever so glad when you announced your intention to submit to the cease-fire conditions and decided to go about business. Then I saw you

Hi there silly buns! My name is Scott Lockwood, but my friend Teddy calls me Vladinator, and sometimes "Rubberneck." I'm skilled in the arts of reach-around, felching, hot lunch and sodomy! I also run a site that used to be dedicated to weakass trolling, but now it's a breeding ground for three-bit hacks and talentless writers!

Scott Lockwood seems to have shortchanged himself in almost every critical life decision. Let's examine the facts, hmm?