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Mazhar Majeed,
Hope this one finds your godzillish dick face in the most demented of its shapes and with you bleeding through random paper-cuts of your last night's overdosing on ganja. All this may make you feel as a valuable subject, but swear by your mum's noxious womb, it goes a bit beyond it.
Let's start this with what we know about you: A high quality penny pincher, a fuckin' crumudgen and an obsessive lunatic scrooge. To cap it off, you are one moronic abhorrent piece of cunt. You are the classic example of the suffocating sickness that prevails in the psychologically distraught ends of any society. Here in your case, its a merger of two massively polarized societies and that is what makes you such an interesting subject. Wonder how much stakes of Faisalabad's morality would have gone down with your unearthing by NOTW and how much Surrey, its council and its people would like to vehemently disown and then lynch you in the car porch of your 1.8 million £ mansion. Who you are, what you do, almost everyone who knows a bit about cricket is aware of. So lets make this clear - you are an acclaimed human shame, neuropsychiatric phenomenon and yes, a bull-massive dickhead.
Now let's get down to the thrust of this tribute. Well, its pretty simple. Apart of it being a hateful vociferation of the syphilitic madarchod you are (for reasons apparent and understandable to any Pakistani or a cricket follower), this is a supportive gesture for the one man who you loathe and who Pakistanis and countless non-Pakistanis love to death: Shahid Khan Afridi.
You know the last few days have been enough to give an Afridi loyalist or a Pakistani cricket fanatic a mental seizure, mainly due to the word doing rounds of he being replaced just on the brink of the World Cup due in few days. And then the immense fuckall show by the boys in the 1st ODI against New Zealand compounded it a bit more. Hence, just when we thought lady luck and mr. karma were doing their most intimate orgy of bending Pakistan cricket over and fucking it for the upteenth time, you came to the party.
Just recently, you started tweeting at @Mazhar0000 (verified through credible sources) and amidst your footy club tweets, you came up with couple of tweets that were belching with vitriol and toxic. The "do not trust afridi" hit me, or let's say, hit many folks real hard. You should know why. Mainly because that man symbolizes us. He and his cricket are the microcosm of his nation and its people. His colossal fuckups epitomize their failures and his "I'll fuck your brains tonight if I'm in mood" successes remind everyone what they are made of. And just because amidst every disaster there still remains hope, resilience and the ever-present will to survive, we know Afridi is Pakistan.
So enlighten us, did an anaconda sized dick triggered such an impulsive gag reflex in you? Or because he has always wore his heart on his fuckin' sleeve? Or maybe he was the initial whistle-blower who pointed out to the team management of you screwing up his crooked boys before leaving for Pakistan after the Australia tests? Or perhaps because you just couldn't lock in the proud pathan?
Honestly speaking, I don't give a flying fuck if you go on buying the rogue bastards as long as they are exposed and you get your due share behind the bars. I don't care how you malign the image of the race or religion you belong to. Also, whatever be your sinful fetish be, it wouldn't appeal much. But maybe, I give a thought about the ones which you call family. Yes its time to get a bit personal now, you son of a bitch.
I feel your Indian missus must be tired of the ritual of walking up to the mirror every morning and slapping herself at least 20 times before her reflection laughs and pisses on her miserable face for having swallowed your filthy sediment cum the previous night. And I assume, by now she would have adapted fully to cursing her fate of marrying a mentally-inferior swine who utilizes her as a commercial latch and who isn't man enough to stand up to the fuckups he was caught up in. Here's an almighty tease: Ever wondered how bloody unholy the daily fucks would be which she burns with when your fart frosted hairy micro-penis penetrates her corrupt labials?
I feel sorry for her.
Maybe, your two young daughters will get reminded in a blissful manner on their first menopause that their father is a rotten vaginal scum whose sexual organ disintegrated belligerently in shape and size by the time they were conceived and whose human principles never existed. They will throw up on the thought of you being that motherfuckin' whore who, even on having iron nibs in his anus whilst doing illegal money-mongering and scams, had the rusty guts to preach his fuckin' corrupted morals to them. And one day, when they'll beg to God (which ever you have taught them to pray) for mercy on you, with the foremost plea being this:
Dear God, bless daddy with the path to righteousness. Show him the track that leads to chastity, not fuckin' disgrace. Save him from the painful weight of the countless sins that he has committed all his life, be it shagging binged women (we have a feel he did his mother too), selling his country(men), being the deceptive fucktard et al. Amen.
One day it is going to be like that.
And maybe one day, just maybe, you'll get blown up into smithereens in Croydon or at your Blue Sky office (or wherever the fuck you be), courtesy of an electrical short circuit or probably a cricket frenzy suicide bomber or preferably an Afridi-powered nuclear missile. So till the day you die fuckin' slow - with the hope that your arteries sneak out and piss all over the floor, and your spleen sliced into a zillion chunks - you'll remain a prodigious human humiliation. And here's to you.
Fuck you.
