Dear Cum Dumpsters,
I'm on to you. Cut the shit. Don't even pretend that you don't know what I'm talking about, because I know you know what I'm talking about, lube licker. I can see it in your eyes, despite their being covered by a thin film of semen.
Oh no? No? You have no idea? Yeah, right, fuck you and the dick you rode in on, cowgirl!
For example, go back to the sexy lady blog entry from this week. Yeah. Just give that a try. What do you see? Oh what? It says Thursday Week 6, does it? BUT THE ENTRY WAS POSTED ON FRIDAY! YOU ARE LYING! AND EVERYBODY KNOWS SEXY LADY DAY IS THURSDAY!
I was disturbed to find that you have been doing this for several days. What the fuck, guys? And then I started wondering: what if I was wrong? What if you had been lying from the start and--now hold on to your butts--YOU HAD ONLY JUST RECENTLY STARTED TELLING THE TRUTH? What if everything I ever knew about the concept of days was WRONG?
I was then launched into an existential haze for the rest of the week. I shit in my computer chair a few times. I was confused, and I felt alone.
I believe I have previously established that I hate your guts, and indeed, would like to punch you directly in the penis until you have a uterus. This is fact. I despise this blog, and whatever the hell team of writers is responsible for it should die in a nest of fire ants.
But now. NOW YOU ARE JUST DELIBERATELY FUCKING WITH CHAD. AND CHAD DOESN'T LIKE IT! If you don't cut out the funny business, I will stab your kidneys qua Keanu Reeves stabbing that bus' gas tank in Speed. Your fluids will slowly dribble onto the highway. And you won't like it.
Best wishes,
Chad Henne
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