It's not often that I get pissed off enough to the point where my eyes could slice a motherfucker, but congratulations! You've got me to that point. You do not own me, my life, or my friends. I understand, you're counting on me to do a task you clearly cannot do yourself, but the beauty of it is, your existence means nothing to me. You are like a moth to the flame, constantly spinning around my head, and man, I can't wait until that torch burns every last stitch in your wings. You're a hometown nobody seeking the fame, but guess what! The only thing you're famous for is being the largest insect to ever grace an ass. Shiiit, I haven't been this livid since a middle school dance. Your feelings are non-existent, so please, don't take this one to heart! I know you won't, and I won't either. Best of luck, you fucking twat.
xoxo,
me!
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