So the little b1tch couldn't keep their word and had no friends no life no place else to go and back it lobs to a place where everybody knows it's a wife beating child neglecting employment averse bald loser living off big daddys money.
What a pathetic disgrace, I'd not want to trade places now or ever. Imagine being such a worthless grub bereft of asny redeeming qualities whatsoever.
When you pass away from medical issues caused by decades of PED abuse (for the most mediocre of results it must be noted HAHA), I won't necessarily attend your funeral, but I will certainly approve of it.
Everyone knew you'd be back wimp. You have nothing else. NOTHING. So nobody made wagers on IF you'd crawl back like a diseased prostitute desperate for another beating from their pimp. The only bets are whether or not you die before or after your current wife (and no shade on her for this) takes you to the cleaners. It will happen because the truth is you are a repulsive unlikeable oxygen thief, no way she is there for your wit and charm, or any other damn thing. Sucks to be you gimp boy.