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Come on, Frank. You're just too much of an incel to appreciate his chad plagiarism.

I wonder. How does she keep from tipping over with feet that tiny?

I don't know the year when it started, but it finished in the '80s. That's the decade of New Coke.

Don't browse it, then. You might ruin your keyboard.

I don't doubt it. It sounds like my junior high school.

It begs the question. Did you get his phone number?

I don't have to convince anybody. He does all of the convincing on his own.

You busted us. I'm so jealous, and I wish that I had the guts to insult depressed teen boys on public forums.

He manipulated a lot. He practices Brazilian jiu jitsu.

Let's be fair to the ditz. Only male virgins distrust psychopathic guys.

We can't have that. Potential employers check those things.

I was an incel at one time. I was married, though.

I don't know. Posts, with just one or two words in them, are extremely impressive.

I know. Ask the Nazi guy whose posts he always thumbs up.

My bust. You're more like Edmund Kemper, then.

I dig the monster. Unfortunately, I'm more like Dracula.

Don't sweat it. For what it's worth, I've always gotten a Green River Killer vibe from you.

Put the former's head (not *that* one) on the latter's body. *Then*, introduce him to Richmondbread.

I don't doubt it. He's a mix of Casanova and Albert Schweitzer.

See. It's this kind of post that makes people wonder about you, but I'm not going to advise you to meet a nice church *boy*.

Come on now. It's Sean's kindness and warmth that make him a good catch, a truly caring and compassionate mensch.

I know. You just replied to him.

I get that, but it's fun to troll you. By the way, I'm not Meade or his MK-Ultra female version.

It might depend on the water that the bottlers use. The biggest change came when soda switched from real sugar to corn syrup, as your parents could tell you.

There's a *slight* resemblance. It's like how I have a *slight* resemblance to Monica Belluci.