I see. Well, of course, this is just the sort blinkered philistine pig-ignorance I've come to expect from you non-creative garbage.... You sit there on your loathsome spotty behinds squeezing blackheads, not caring a tinker's cuss for the struggling artist. You excrement!,... you whining hypocritical toadies with your colour TV sets and your Tony Jacklin golf clubs and your bleeding masonic secret handshakes! SHUT YOUR FESTERING GOB, YOU TIT! YOUR TYPE MAKES ME PUKE!
YOU VACUOUS STUFFY-NOSED MALODOROUS PERVERT!!!