Check out this screen shot of your boy in action. Y'all need to leash that puppy.
Also: people ought not to tell me to curb my speech. Never gonna happen.
You wouldn't like me when I get quiet, and they wouldn't like being crippled for life. It just don't sound kosher, I reckon.
ZUGZWANG. (Traditions.) Also, your mother is not a whore. She's a Hood Rat King Shaw-Man Witchy-Switch-Hes Which¿,Tīch·Everwench witch, and you know goddam well that is a true fact.
(Definitions.)
The men here who are preventing my friend(s) from communicating with me are cowardly, faggot scum and Authority knows *exactly* who they are. They also know exactly where they are: Texas.
That state and Tel Aviv are two of the only places on Earth where I could be, in theory, be shot dead on first sight after exiting.a plane and being spotted by, say for example, “a heroic off-duty peace officer,” who will easily and readily be able to say that “(he) didn't like the way Kuczi was getting uppity with the bound chattel property” and this is why you stupid Bellgab obsessives should have known better.
Her family is *never* going to let this go. Note that I am using the word “never” here. Now then..
When did Tamara and Allison meet, when did they start having a hidden clandestine sexual affair, and why does it take so many totesgay faggot supreme untermensch, like those here at Bellgab, to “protect” my friends from talking to me? Come come, Mister All-Ī§-Stairs. You don't have to play dumb with mE.
Tell me everything. Omit nothing. Do it. Do it with no dallying. Or I swear to you, the following events will occur:
The Fallout will begin to, once again, spread relentlessly throughout The Land.
I will find a counselor, a psychologist, a psychiatrist, & a candlemaker-who-fucks-bakers everything they need to know.
I will then tell your mother everything she wants to know, as well as everything she didn't want to know, and still doesn't. (Cad.) And you should see the two losers serving out next to my car here in Buckley. I'm in the Safeway parking lot for, oh, about five hours now.
And I'm not using voice to text. I'm writing. (So of these salty WYTEKLAN doughnegs have never seen anyone actually literate before. They are mesmerized at the sight of me.) IN.BUCK.
LEIGH. NOW, WHAT THE FUCK AM I DOING IN THIS TOWN FOR THE LAST FIVE HOURS, d00D? ASK YOURSELF THIS QUESTION.
ASK ∆TAMARA AS WELL WHILE YOU'RE AT IT, WHITEBOI.
IT IS NOT A JOKE, DICKBREATH. PUT THE WOMEN ON THE PHONE WITH ME—UNBLOCK OUR COMMUNICATIONS, IN OTHER WORDS—OR I WILL TAKE STEPS.
BOLD, BEAUTIFUL STEPS THAT BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE WILL SPEAK OF IN HUSHED TONES AS SPECIAL CONSEQUENCES CONTINUE TO UNFOLD FOR THOSE WHO HAVE LIED TO CLERGY.
THAT'S ME, DUMMY. QLERGY. OR CLERGY. AS YOU LIKE, KAFE-FEAR-MAN. THERE HAVE BEEN CONSEQUENCES ALREADY, AND MANY OF THEM HAVE ALREADY BEEN PRETTY SPECIAL.
THEY CAN GET A LOT MORE CONSEQUENTIAL.AT ANY TIME.
NOTE THAT I AM USING THE NAME ANNIE HERE.
OAK LEAVES, ANNIE: SURPRISE, MOTHERFUCKER,. YOU'RE DOAKING IN IR. AND YOU HERE ALL KNOW IT.
CONSEQUENCES. SPECIAL, STUNNING ONES.
CUNNING WONZ. (Just how stupid would you like to be made to look? That's not my usual area, but nevertheless I find myself still standing and I have an array of interesting options here.
You don't.) .I.will.explain:
LOCKED.IN!
NO.WAY.OUT
