I hate you Paul W.S. Anderson.
I really, really hate you. In fact, I wish nothing but bad things for you and I curse your ancestors for inflicting your continued and painful ineptitude on a mostly undeserving world. I also resent a system that has allowed someone with so little obvious talent to rise as high as you have, although I do applaud you for doing so. I was taught to never resent the success of geniuses, hate unjustly rewarded mediocrity, and for me, you are the embodiment of that. Or you would be if you ever made it to the dizzy heights of “passable”.
Everyone else, you may be pleased to hear that I have now got over my persecution complex with the cunt and am just treating him the same way I treat Milton Keynes: nothing good will ever, or has ever, come out of there, and it’s just bad luck that occasionally I have the fucking place inflicted on me.