Peter FitzSimons Hypocrite of the Year

Wins this award for the third consecutive year, despite fierce competition particularly in the form of Karlis Salna, Rowan Quinn, Richard Pembroke, Stephen Jones and others, but just desserts to a finalist in most of our categories. Star libeller in the various other zones of cyber space he inhabits during his copious hours of boredom. His other obsession, gazing adoringly at his own reflection, undoubtedly provided him with an heroic view of bronzed muscle and golden, flowing hair-piece, rising up out of the masses like a demi-God to be worshipped by the lesser beings. But, to the sane mind, he presented a creepy, drooling visage, unbalanced on a spineless mound of quivering lard, oozing the manic snicker and foaming bile of the criminally deranged. Gloating eyes rolled triumphantly at his own craftiness and underhanded cunning in force-feeding as much trouble anonymously as he had in his playing days, gleefully invading privacy, making cowardly threats and propagating libel, conceiving his obsessive, must-win hatred as genius. But the twisted grin and rasping cackle instantly transformed into a wild-eyed, tongue-flailing shriek of outrage and indignation at the first sign of a response; so much as a light-hearted dig at he or one of his "associates", or even the name Peter FitZsimons, as though he himself were virginity personified confronted by the Devil. See how his head explodes with hatred! Often applies the word paranoia in accusation but has managed to classify each and every single person who has ever dared disagree with him as being the same person - regardless of writing styles, views, round the clock times of corresponding, and evidence placed on internet forums that some of these people were, in reality, based on different continents. Who could forget that final, flesh-crawling line at the end of every hideous scene: "Shlater gators (hyek hyek hyek)....". Astonishing he deigns to walk among us.