Looks like a nice day in St. Francis. Why don’t you crawl out from under the Amazon Vagina Warrior Princesses’ skirts, climb on your Scooty-Puff of Doom (It’s red, like Johnnie Walker! Vroom! VROOM!!)
…and scooty your wide ass on over to the Post Office and pick up your mail?
And why not get a haircut while you’re at it?
So are you saying that WJJ Hoge III is trying to serve the wrong guy, DUMBFUCK? Because that’s what it sounds like you’re saying.
You have never served me. You have never come close to serving me. You never will come close to serving me. And I’m not the DUMBFUCK who has not just once…not twice…not even three times, but repeatedly, and loudly, whined like the goddamned sand-filled pussy he is that people won’t jump their ass right down to the Post Office to pick up a piece of mail from someone who, as likely as not, is enjoined from sending that mail because there is some flavor of restraining order in place that makes it a crime to send.
I don’t think you have a restraining order against John Hoge, do you, DUMBFUCK?
So if it’s not rank cowardice for an excuse, what is it? Comments are open, DUMBFUCK…enlighten me.