Let the haters talk. My future is so bright, I could use a little shade.

I love my haters. They’re my biggest fans. I just wish I could figure out how to land with Males, 18-24.

If you can’t handle me at my worst, you don’t deserve me at my best. And my best is so good. My best makes crepes. For real crepes.

Only God can judge me, because he’s the only one watching me all the time. Well, Him and the subscribers to my cam site. OK, so only God and premium members of ispyryguy.nz can judge me.

Negativity is like a boomerang. No matter how hard you throw it out there, you’re still a fat fuckin’ dummy with shit for brains and bad clothes.

If you’re talking behind my back, you’re in a great position to kiss my ass. Or stab me in the ba- Nevermind! Kiss my ass, hater! Kiss my ass!

You talk so much shit, your mouth might be an asshole. You should be less concerned with my goings-ons and more worried about the possibility of a very serious gastrointestinal condition.

I’m like an iceberg. I’ve got way more going on below the surface than you know. It's all the same shit as on top, but trust me, there is A LOT of it.

Some of my haters are drinking Haterade like it’s on sale. Despite our differences, I do very much admire my haters thriftiness.

Haters, along with my capitalistic ideas of success and happiness, are my motivators!

Don’t judge my life unless you lived it. I keep offering to do a “Freaky Friday” with people, but everybody's too scared we won’t be able to switch back.

Haters, I have so much more for you to be mad at. Just be patient. (But I’ll give you a hint: It’s a concept album set in the not-so-distant future!)

I made all my haters a sandwich. It’s a heaping helping of “Bite Me” between two slices of “Y’all suck!”