The old man had good reason to believe you were the Unctious Cunt.

In retrospect, I had a lot to with putting that notion in his head, calling you sashamutt.

That does not absolve you from your part in perpetrating it. Nor your subsequent whining through the years.

Whatever. When you're not trying to be provocatively obtuse, you've got some insight. Ms. Jerkins, as you've noted, is an amazing broad when she's not being twatastic and cuntacular and I'm a prince when I'm not being drunk and insufferable. Which should give you an indication of how often we see each other.