You.
Yes, you over there, with your overpowering smell of cheap deoderant. Your messy, very sakai looking, retarded, overgrown, out of shape, sticky, long, smelly, oily looking, thick hair. Your constant abuse of physical attractiveness to get retarded, bimbo loserheads down your pants. Your long streak of lost loves, and severe depression, and a longing want to kill yourself everytime a girl confuses your pathetic excuse of a mind. Your euphoria when they swoon and practically jump off their apartment buildings and throw themselves at your smelly, weird looking feet. Your extremely disgusting, yet wondrous inability to be able to kiss a girl without slobering all over her face like a fucking huge rott weiler. Your stale, dry, lame sense of humour. And your puny, sick, twisted mind, punny, just like the size of your ugly, hairy, disgusting, 1 finger long, little, kids wiener.
You. Are on my to kill list.
And I will enjoy every single moment torturing you to death.
I will spit on your face in my death bed. I would stab at your eyes if I'm blind. I would poke at your ears with a stake if I'm deaf. I would dunk your head into a smelly, soiled toilet bowl to make you smell better. I would stick your foot into a blender. I would grind your pale, excess meat and feed it to your younger brother, who has more that he needs too. I would stuff your younger brother's lighted ciggies down your pants to sizzle up the hair and uncover that little schmeckle of yours, and burn that to crisps too.
Don't expect me to sympathize with you, baby.
I'm on a fucking roll, and there's nothing you can do about it.
Good luck! (:
Manbitch.
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