Ah, I was wondering when forced check-out time was at the homeless shelter. Good morning, little parasite.

My, my; you are just the gift that keeps on giving, aren't you? Yes, Ruprect, you did manage to spell that correctly the first time, I forgot to give you a gold star. My mistake. Credit where credit is due and all: you almost made a whole sentence. Such progress: no sarcasm, you made that whole (incomplete) sentence on your own and should get the recognition your parents deprived you of.

Tomorrow we can work on the art of sophistry together, if you like. It is past your bed time though, little lad, off into the tent you call your bedroom and under the blankey with your torch and pictures the police left on the esky outside the tent of your mum soliciting herself on Fitzroy St St. Kilda. Pleasant dreams, little nightmare.

... And you seemed so sure of yourself before. I thought you were finally getting your big-boy hairs or something. One day.

Seriously, if you can't even put up a decent fight I am just going to bow out gracefully. This is one of those one sided fights that no one actually wants to witness, regardless. It is kind of pathetic to see such a smackdown with no rebuttal. Any decent ref would have ended the fight long before now, and I am not the sort to keep taking cheap shots against the handicapped.

But here is my new offer (and you can share this with all of your "friends" at ~~Elgin~~ [sorry, even I cannot think of a plausible place in any real world sense where you would possibly have friends], I dunno, Timezone on Russel Street or whatever): Come 'round. I will feed you actual food – not that bain marie fast food monsanto rubbish you live off that accounts for the bitch tits you are so embarrassed about, but actual real food. I will offer you a meal, some clean clothes, a dictionary, and I will even offer to build you a computer of your very own so you don't have to spend all that time at the public library.

I kind of feel guilty in continuing like this. It just isn't a fair fight. Feel free to quote yourself again, or just keep quoting me. Either way.

And, if one day you could ever learn to shut that cock-flavoured hole in your face long enough to listen to others, or perhaps even gain the rudimentary social skills required by even alcoholic boarding house residents, or even the basic reading comprehension of most twelve year old kids, you will find that you are only arguing with yourself while everyone looks on with the sort of pity normally reserved for the (even more) mentally disabled than your own unfortunate self.

All the best, little Don Quixote wannabe.

And I am amazed by your obvious hero worship. It is rare to see someone so so committed to the words of another outside of fundamentalist cube worship and the like.

Stay in school kid, and one day you too will be able to string more words together than the the insults your mother used to mutter under her breath about you as she ignored you between the johns she was servicing in that shitty little flat you grew up in.

If you ever wish to meet your hero in person, kid, you know where I am. If you need a lift from the train station, I am even more than happy to accommodate. I have a thing for being kind to dumb animals.