After dinner

When I arrived at the pub, my tormentor was there. At least the horrible cunt kept away from me, which is exactly how I want it. I still had to listen to the parsimonious shite and general air of superiority, combined with the superficial giggles. It's no good trying to be superior to me, because nobody is. The cunt is betrayed by its eyes, which are ice cold and don't smile with the rest of the face. Well good luck to it. It can go and fuck itself.