Bambam, even if you were like 6 years old when your Photosensitivity and social anxiety first forced you to send those mutant mitts-a-bashing on that keyboard that had been flushed down a Burger King toilet, and sailed down the sewage into your grateful octopus arms, surely your depleted, incestual consequence of a brain cell store can figure out that this is pathetic by now... You must be at least 15 at this point, and I know it's cruel that us above-ground walkers would spit in your direction and cover ourselves in crucifixes at the mere sight of your Siamese-Voldermorts appearance if you ever decided to slither your way from that underground bunker, but surely you can just enjoy a game of football and the resulting banter without making your Quasimodo-self look like an ugly git on the inside as well... The internet reception has got to be a bitch down there, so why waste it by posting guff my friend?
Peace Dude.
