Wednesday, April 28, 2004

Before I blog about Oxford, I need to rant.

Fucking fat bitch. I hate it when people see through me, I don't mean the quiet insightful appraisal that some people have the ability to do. Its the you are transparent, you are inconsequential, I see right through you, you don't exist look. I can greet that person hiya, and that person FI, she just sees right through me as if I am an apparition and just goes on, and talks right through me, I can literally feel your sounds waves penetrating my self. Fucking bitch. You know what you need? You need to have your fats, scooped out of your mother fucking fat ass, thrown into a pot of curry, and served to you and your scrawny boyfriend while your intestines are dragged out of your stomach and tied to each other's entrails. Force feed and hopefully, you can see your own ass fats going through your own bodies and I hope you puke, choking on your own spicy fat, its poetic justice.

God its a miracle, you don't crush the fucker when you are fucking. You are so fucking fat that its not difficult to imagine his scrawny ass, pig fucker, suffocated when he's under you, he's screaming, I am dying, and probably you can't hear him because your fat fuck lard is covering him entirely. Oh he's not the one who saw through me? Fuck him, he has the stupidity to be with that fat fuck, so tough luck, life's shit anyway I am just spreading the shit.

Ok, rant over.


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