Really? Thats it? Just a repeat of the last guy and the guy before that and so on and so on. I thought you were some space traveling, omnipotent clown god...

Oh wait, that's Panzer snatch or whatever. I'm sorry, you emo kids and clowns, I can't tell you apart. With your weird outfits, makeup, and existing just for my amusement.

The Goth boy wants to make a stand and take on the prom queen, finally found some balls instead being some passive-aggressive cunt in the corner writing poetry and emulating his hero Allen Poe.

Well do us a favor and imitate Edgar and just be dead. Preferably before you turn tha8t poetry into that BS music you call rock or ever open your mouth again. Drop the whole alien bit to while your at it. We all know it's a metaphor for how you feel your about self.

I would elaborate but suicide is no joking matter and I don't want your death on my conscience. That's not to say I don't want or wouldn't prefer you be dead, just that I don't want to be associated when it happens. So back your nose away from my twat and fuck off elsewhere until a time you are no longer amongst the living.

kickout.