Phil,
I know you are reading this, you little shit.
You look like a bloated turd. You, and your grapefruit fucking competition, have reduced the Olympia to a joke: A battle between two obese, turtle-gutted degenerates.
I hope your drug abuse catches up with you, and you die on the Olympia stage (those two steps over the line won't be enough to reduce the time the paramedics need to get to you, to save your fat ass when your heart implodes).
I look forward to booing you as you exit from this mortal coil.