Say it with me, in the words of the immortal make-pretend gang lord Easy motherfucking E, "fuck The Police".
Seriously, to pick up where Uncle Roy left off: fuck Ticketmaster (read all that is even more unholy than George W fucking cunt fuck Bush). And fuck Sting.
No. Fuck that. Fuck Gordon fucking Sumner. Fucking Cunt. Fuck him right in his eight-hour tantric sex-having, Brazilian-waxed ass. That's right Gordo, I said it, your name is fucking Gordon. And you're a dirty fucking cunt. Jesus fuck, do I hope you got your ass beat in grade school. I hope some shit-fuck bully beat your ass under the auspice that you'd someday suck harder than a hoover, where that day is defined as Dream of the Blue [fuck]Turtle. I hate you. Hard. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. Fucking hard.
Oh, and shame on you, Stewart-I-hope-Sting-someday-wants-to-reunite-for-a-nominal-fee-('cuz it feels so good)-to-play-the-music-that-meant-so-much-to-so-many-people-(like my whoring ass)-because-that's-the-only-way-I'd-reunite-in-front-of-large-audiences (paraphrased from a radio interview with Stewy the cunt, 2006). I hope you get cancer in your ass, eyes, ears, nose, throat, dick, and mother. And I hope Les Claypool and that dirty fucking hippie douche nozzel, Trey Anastasio, out you for being a COMPLETE PIECE OF GREEDY, SELF-SERVING, LYING FUCKING SHIT, and you fall, face down, in a pile of my own loose and occult blood-filled stool, and die.
What the fuck unleashed this silly-ass shit storm of fucks and cunts, you ask: why, the opening BID for Police tickets being 300 fucking dollars. What in the holy fuck is that? You actually mean to tell me that I am reserving the right to bid more and fucking more and yet fucking more of my dollars for what Ticketmaster calls the chance of a lifetime to be "a part of this extraordinary tour by taking advantage of these unique offers". GO FUCK YOURSELF. FUCKING HARD. RIGHT IN THE FUCKING EYE SOCKET.