I really wish it were already possible to use computer displays as portals to another ones connected to the Internets. That way the projectile vomit would have hit someone who likely deserved it instead of splashing back on me and mine.
Also, that way I could stab you in the eye through the screen, but alas, I'll have to manage with just a verbal assault, but I'll have to partially use someone else's words because this traumatic event has relapsed me into almost speechless condition. So without further ado...
...you empty-headed animal food-trough wiper! I fart in your general direction! Your mother was a hamster, and your father smelt of elderberries! I was happy not actively remembering the existence of that pheropod monstrosity. May you be eternally stomped by athlete-footed elephants in the afterlife, right next to Prometheus. He can laugh at you from his higher position on that wall of mountain. You can offer some new items on the menu of that poor eagle who has to eat Prometheus' liver on daily basis... I mean, it's not healthy for the ruddy bird to be eating just liver all the eternity, don't you agree?
