Complacent, half-assed bastard.

All you're good for is a measure of displacement.

Like an ornament, in this ineffiecient oval seating arrangement.

A herding clown, in a circus of mutant animalia. 

A leaky fountain, pumping social insolence and homophobia.

you're a measure of public disgrace, and for you, I hold infinite distaste.

What the fuck, Mr. X?