Hush the fuck up and listen! If I ever would have met you when you were little and lost in the metro I would have carefully placed myself in a blind spot, where the cameras wouldn’t see, and used a razor I would hold in my pocket just for that distinct occasion to cut off your small and chubby cheeks off. You fat and ugly bimbo prostitute haired cunt with your disgustingly stinking breath, you’re the reason sentences like “I wouldn’t fuck her with someone else’s dick” exist. I hope you sweat your shitty ass out of Earth’s orbit, because we don’t need you. Human life and rights stop in front of you like when a disabled person sees an ambulance rushing to an intervention on a green light. I would stop watching gore, because in my head I’ve already traveled in time and stuck nitroglycerin packages inside your putrescent mom, froze her crappy insides and then sledgehammered away only to fill the world with more shit. Each cadaveric ovule cell is your sister, and she’s another reason why the world is a crappy place to live in. Grab all the mirrors in the world, no black magic could make them tell you you’re pretty. Use social media to enforce the Cinderella effect in the most blue ball drenched country in the world.

 

 

Go to India, or better yet, find somewhere, an island, where the inhabitants have been so battered down by religion that nobody ever had sex, and they live only as a one time mistake of destiny, that year when there was a sexual purge and all the people in the village copulated like crazy and everyone, absolutely everyone, with their baby making devices and their hormones neatly tucked behind lustful layers of epithelia, got pregnant, go there, where all the sons and daughters of the sex purge event have roughly the exact same age, except for a few who were born premature and get to be told happy birthday and never to be kissed on the cheeks a couple of months later than everyone else, go there, and sit among these sexually deprived people when the rain forces all of them to stop what they’re doing and duck for cover under an incorporating arch, wild with their imagination, only allowed to watch, having done the most blatantly immoral orgies in their heads and having raped the shit out of their every relative, because you know this is Inbred Island, hallelujah, and tell them that you’re their sex Messiah, you have come to bring the tablets of sexual truth, the 10 commandments, 1. לא יהיה־לך אלהים אחרים על־פני (Thou shalt have no other sexual relationships before Me), 2. לֹא-תַעֲשֶׂה לְךָ פֶסֶל, וְכָל-תְּמוּנָה  (Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image, just watch me naked all the time), and so on, and still, still… still they would hold it, unable to masturbate and find relief for years, still they wouldn’t have sex, because you’re not only the last person on the Planet anyone would fuck, you’re the last person on the Planet anyone would fuck under any diachronic historical circumstances. Jesus would rather get crucified than save the world of sin by touching you, Socrates would beg for the hemlock, Saint Paul would wish on Newton’s law of gravity to be written down earlier so that he could understand why the heavy axe would not end his miserable days… jumping ahead, Jews would rather point out where their families are hiding to the Nazis than accept being in the same room with you for more than 5 seconds, lesbian no male encounter feminists would rather fuck giant male donkey dicks than kiss your piss ass mouth. Do you get how fowl you are? Do you?! Now pay me back the $10 you refused to acknowledge I loaned you for that doughnut you craved after I buttfucked your pork loin and fuck off and die! Fuck you very much!

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