DO NOT call Me for these types of calls. Blackmail. I don't like you as it is so, I WILL NOT be spending ANY of My free time in e-mailing everyone in your life, to let them know that you're wearing panties or, sucking off strange cock at the gloryholes. If you want to smear peanut butter all over your body, while riding on a fat, lubed up dildo, then do it. But, don't expect Me to let your wife or, your boss know. Do NOT call Me looking to give Me your credit card info or, your phone number. I DO NOT WANT IT. I want you hitting My tribute button, you no dicked, fucking loser. Go FUCK yourself, and your fetish for blackmail phone sex.
ATTENTION BIG, FAT SLOBS! If you ALREADY tip the scales at a whopping 300 fucking pounds, DO NOT call Me prepared to inhale an 8,000 calorie meal. "Forced feeder" phone sex calls are vile, and so are you! My friends and I mock cows like you, and I definitely DO NOT wish to answer My phone to hear you moo for Me. I spend 45 minutes a DAY on My elliptical, and I work HARD to stay in shape; you should try it sometime. Perhaps then My healthcare premiums wouldn't be so high. Why should My insurance company pay to have your 33 pound heart scanned, fatso? Oh, I know.. it's McDonald's fault, and Burger King's fault. That's why you're morbidly obese. Right. Nobody's making you eat foods saturated in fats. How about this; try a little exercise, you fucking whale. I've got one that your fat ass can do sitting down, it's called pushing yourself AWAY from the table.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Call Me and serve, bitch.