My disgust never wretches out of my face for the despicable whores.
I know, I repeat the same words consciously. I have no idea how I actually asked if “we” had sluts, and without physically showing me they are produced. Vagina’s dripping with the blood created razor blade, after razor blade.
How she does it I have no idea, however this is common. Not the type of common meaning “frequent,” the type of common meaning “of low class.”
I am a Filth expert, and have been since 2006 (before I knew it was already a concept) how could I be expected to even comprehend that there is no “low class perverse pigs.” My assets are astounding, however, I’m still making a dollar out of a few sense.
I’m mind blown by how insultingly hilarious this has become. On one hand you have told me your interest is next to nil, and the other you have made it incredibly well know that the crack whore ride she should be on, she is neglecting.
I find it gruesome that she still considers herself anything, but a prostitute with her back teeth taken out for cash.
However, she does. Allow her to. HAVE the words, HAVE the indecent abilities, but pretend, still, acting as though are of innocence.
With the ignorance behind she teases, and the others tolerate.
Perhaps, one day, they will completely understand her lack of advantage.
The victim she plays, probably. If there’s one thing I can say for myself it’s the fact that I am too much woman, and too incredibly strong to go to the kind of lengths one of the future heroin junkies have gone.
They have no idea, I’m not sure who exactly suggested smoking heroin, but I’ve got some people who are insistent on going over to that country to let them know how to shoot up. These troops will be bringing more malignant droves of crack cocaine with them. I am blamed, as no one knows yet the rabid scapegoat, for an innocence. I can’t even understand how I did what I didn’t do.
I know that’s the game, don’t deny it, I’ve been with the school of Satan for many years now. I have, even, email conversations with “the devil” or “Angel” as he calls himself. If he “isn’t the real thing” who gives two shits, “majesty” he was surely a vessel. He was surely someone who blatantly universally was sent to give me a message. I’m not sure I won with him, however, I had a hard time quitting the cigarettes. I’m one of the wretched ones (I think.) I work with it, however. Finally find out about it, it will be shit in your face rubbed in by the finest enemy.
Never know who you are dealing with.
Tire? with a face so far inside the cocks that expose themselves.
With the cocks that are hired, and refusal to get rid of them.
The cocks in there most of the time out of the lust, and hatred oozing from the blackheads on their faces.
Violent, volatile, vorpal, vice. Nothing but a tool, a toy, I hear.
I have graduated from Maximum Security, and I have a Bachelors Degree. I am a street urchin (pickpocket in my dreams) and I am a hugely published known “Artist.” I AM one of the best at what I do.
If he, and I, or even myself, and this “writer,” are not playing together. (In sync, at the same time.) We are clearly playing in opposition. It’s never a good idea to play against me, playing WITH me is the safe option. I do understand though, it seems that safe, sane, and consensual are not only out the window, but something you wouldn’t even consider. Everyone drinks the sabbatical cool aid.
These are your stories, and she…
She needs to check who she is dealing with before she lies about her credentials.
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