Get Your Egos Off The Battlefield.

Shut Your Evil Mucus-hole You Truth Terrorist. You Lose Every Time A Mirror Implodes From Your Barbed And Gristle Image.

The Truth Is For Suckers, Johnny Boy!

The Run I Was On Made Sinatra, Flynn, Jagger, Richards, All Of Them Look Like Droopy-eyed Armless Children.

I Am Grandiose Because I Live A Grandiose Life; What’s Wrong With That?

My Success Rate Is 100 Percent. Do The Math.