Like I said, he's that little ginger fat kid in the sandbox making all those weird war noises explosions and rolling around with snots all over his face while Mommy and Daddy NFL Owner breathlessly exclaim "oh my, isn't our little Roger just so cute and cunnin?"....just a matter of time before he gets his bluffing hand folded but good...and you know, sometimes karma is like that. You THINK it's all in the past and you reach the point where you're out of the business of screwing with peoples lives. You think you've escaped all that bad karma with your boatloads of ill gotten cash when *BANG!*...you get diagnosed with ass cancer...and on top of it, as you leave the proctologist's with your ginger headed face all droopy, some street punks roll up on you and beat the shyt out of you, robbing your wallet and leaving you there on the street...knocked out cold. A wino rolls up, takes your Bruno Magli shoes, looks at you there with your $5000 Armani suit on, and proceeds to take a long, skunky smelling pi$$ on your face and in your big ****in' mouth. When you come to, you got a busted jaw, ,missing teeth, smell like the Grand Central urinal and you're flat broke.
THIS is just the beginning of the bad karma movie you are now starring in the rest of your pathetic, miserable life.
Enjoy it, Rog...hey, I got it...call the ****in' Maine State Police and demand the witness protection program. You're gonna need it, azzole.