Hey, you.
Yeah, you. You right there. Guess what? In a few years, you will be skull fucking a dick loving fat chick for cheap liquor in a forgotten basement, you meat wallet. Yeah, that's fuckin' truth. How do I know? I'm a certified psychic, you sexy motherfucker. And by sexy I mean hideous. Don't like your future? I'm sorry druggie, I can't hear you over the sound of how unhygenic you are. Oh and your plans next Tuesday? I don't want to have to explain to your sister that you can't go to the family meeting because you got caught trying to pick up fifteen-year-olds again. So fucking cancel them. |
|








































