There are no words to adequately describe my revulsion for this mentally-deranged phaggot.
“If he was your son” ... blah, blah ...
If he was MY son, for real, each and every time I saw him, I’d again tell him how horrified I am to have produced such a despicable organism. That I wish he’d have been born dead.
Then I’d tell him to get the fuck out of my face and to strongly consider an overdose of pills.