Friday, 23 May 2008

Where do I start?

You. Fucking. Cunt. I'm a fucking pussy, I won't deny it. If I retained any hopes of a violent manner, and knew I could escape easily, I'd riddle you with pockmarks, and batter you till you were kneaded putty. Fuck sharp objects, blunt force is what the fuck I'm talking about. I mean, I'm not huge, but I'm angry enough to pack a fucking wallop. or fifty. You might be the same size, but you've not got this ferile rage inside you.

Let me think up a scheme. A grand plan, execution.

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