I hope a baby falls out of your ass.
Yeah, I said it. Do you know why? Because I fucking hate you, and the worst fate I could possibly imagine for you is to be stuck with a whinier, less mature, dumber version of yourself for the rest of your pathetic fucking life.
I don't know how many times I see some vapid little bitch like you so primped and manicured there's no human left under all that facade, and think to myself: "Do you have any idea how fucking pathetic you look to me right now?"
I mean, seriously, is it really even fucking living if you're just another worthless fucking carbon copy slammed out by the Hollywood culture machine, another mindless stupid fucking clone unleashed by corporate america to blindly consume unnecessary trinkets until our planet is covered in a sea of trendy belts and handbags all designed to hide the mind numbing idiocy and denial of the realities of life that forms the festering rotten core of your being?
And for the love of the God of Hatred, don't give me that bullshit line about how you were once suicidal but found meaning in life. Don't tell me; you've got a couple of BS scars on your wrists and OD'd on your favorite brand of brain leeching chemicals. I don't give a fucking shit. Until you've dedicated yourself to something of value, until you've PRODUCED something, you never fucking LIVED to begin with; rather, you were merely the God of Hate's punishment on your worthless fucking parents for the same sins you now perpetrate.
God, living your life must be like watching a toilet full of shit flushing in slow motion as all the worthless shit that makes up your being circles around the drain called Death until finally succumbing to sweet inevitable oblivion.
So go ahead, produce something, let a big fat bawling shit monster fall out of your ass, so I can watch the stresses of actually having to provide for someone ELSES mindless consumption grab you by the ears and force you to see why drinking a gallon of bleach would be the best thing you could do for yourself and for the world at large. And maybe, just maybe, the God of Hate would bless you with enough foresight to realize your circumstances and drive yourself and your worthless screaming brood into a fucking river to drown and rot as far away from me as possible.
this message brought to you by the Church of Hate
I read a fashion magazine at lunch. I feel like kittens have just shit in my brain.
This is a song about death. It's on mandolin.
Hate is the first step to all solutions.
You will not end bigotry until you learn to hate it.