Charming.

Is this supposed to be my bedroom where I'm living now, in the 3rd apartment in a row in Massachusetts where I'm being criminally victimized by voyeurism, and where I also steam the clothes that I wear to work for $12.75/hour while you and the other multi-millionaires who know that I'm telling the truth sit around to think of more disgusting jokes to tell about me?

Disgusting jokes like this one, which you attached at Instagram to the first picture?

Neither of the women featured in the pictures stapled to your coat is me.  You know that; are you trying to make other people think that one of them is? 

I realize that you are insanely jealous of the other celebrities who are still hitting on me in the vain hope that they will finally capture the battered, dehumanized trophy, but is it possible that you could stop being such a pig?