Well ya see it's like this.
The self-described "extremely stable genius" steadfast jacka** was born with diarrhea of the mouth. He can't shut up to save his life. LITERALLY. He talks and talks and tweets and tweets and tweets and talks and talks and talks and tweets and tweets and tweets and tweets ad infinitum.
Always getting himself into a lot more trouble that if he had just shut up stifled it remained silent. TO SAVE HIS OWN A**. He didn't. He couldn't. He is uncontrollable. He cannot control himself. He cannot stop himself. He can only do whatever he does dohowever he does do it. He keeps digging deeper as he complains about how dark it is the deeper he digs. He never was the sharpest knife in the drawer and he is playing with an smaller deck of cards than he used to too. Oh well. Let chump be chump. Why not? What could it hurt?
