fml

i hate slags. fat fucking heifers, do i really need to see a set of fleshy spaniels ears greet me when i'm eating my fucking breakfast? ironically, the majority of them have tits like cornflakes anyway, enough to put you off crunchy nut for a fucking lifetime. almost.

if there's a specific clique of people i detest the most it's the slags. the orange harlots with their plastic hair and the 4 inch thick slap that takes them 3 hours to apply. is there any need for their existence? truly, what do they bring to the world aside from earache and herpes? the screeching shit that seeps from their mouths like shit in a sewage system on a minute to minute basis, is there any need? is there REALLY any fucking need?

they're even plaguing my television now, they're on jeremy kyle constantly whinging on about maintenance and dna tests. they're at my college, plaguing my lessons with their shit craic and dismal unintelligence. and that trail of orange dust they shed and leave behind constantly? surely that can't be good for my hayfever? cunts.

it's also painful knowing the majority of males i know would rather shag a fat mething mong with double E's and a push up bra in place of braincells and a sense of humour, than a decent looking NATURAL female with the ability to string more than one sentence together that doesn't involve the words, "aye, a sucked him off for a quid".

the more laughable thing is they all reckon they're lush as fuck :/
fucking hell ladies, theres only so much 5 litres of dream matt mousse can do, y'kna?

for real though, i don't want to know about how many cocks you've had in you at one given moment, i don't want to know when you're on your rag, how heavy your flow is, how many sti's you've given your boyfriend and vice versa, i don't want to know how tiny his cock is or how big your fanny is. i simply don't want to know, i'd like to indulge in imagining you don't exist and are simply a figment of my colourful imagination. just shut the fuck up, close your legs for a bit, give your shotgun wound time to heal and spare me the highly grotesque mental imagery.