Decided to go for an actual essay approach more than the format of a letter to her. Mainly because if ever I wrote to the bitch it would have to be in my own excrement and contain the words “sleep with your eyes open”, and be delivered in the hollowed eye sockets of the dismembered head of her own pet dog. So here goes, 500 words exactly and in true essay format:
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Reflections on Internet Phenomena
By
Pissed off white Londoner
Since invading our homes in the mid-nineties, the internet has educated an entire generation about some of Earth’s greatest horrors. The Holocaust and the Rape of Nanking feature prominently, but often overlooked is the single greatest atrocity on history. I refer of course to “that” breast-shake.
Granted there are no doubt some residents of Japan who’ve waited a lifetime to witness two small, pus-filled sores nodding at each other surreptitiously, but when placed in the context of the remainder of the content, a much darken tone is soon taken.
Here we bear witness to a creature so repulsively ugly that when auditioning as Grendel in the new Beowulf film was turned down on the grounds that “although repulsive you should at least be believable, and nobody would accept that what you portray would granted survival by nature herself”. A withering, hapless and pathetic excuse for an individual to the degree that one wishes for it’s own sake human mothers would begin eating their young at birth, and begin to wonder if perhaps Darwin’s evolutionary theory contained a reverse mode.
Paramount to this disgust is the insistence she appears to have in failing to recognise her own shortcomings and making demands of any potential suitors characteristics, rather than sticking to the more likely “If he’s mental enough to fuck me, he’ll do”. As a general rule, the less aesthetic of us in this life need some other greater quality to attract sexual interest, unless of course the subject in question happens to be Shannon Matthews, and this rule seems to have been discarded in this instance.
Between the vomit-inducing twitching of the flaps of flabby skin presented as breasts, and the unrealistic demands that any man wishing to date her must be in anyway normal we have also been forced to endure attempts at singing and messages of Christian faith. How suiting she should follow a religion based upon virgin birth, such is her only hope of ever infecting the human genepool, especially when her personality acts as a “backup” contraceptive, just in case the looks alone don’t work*. Paramount to this is most certainly the insistence that people like her have a place in this world other than to promote homosexual behaviour in young boys. Most certainly had I seen her in my teenage years, I would have lost many a batch of life-juice to a picture of Shane MacGowan before taking my own life with a sharpened spatula.
In summary I conclude that for all the good it has brought, the introduction of a bitch so ugly you wouldn’t put your cock in her face for fear of it rotting off lends weight to the opinion that the internet must be discontinued for the good of our children’s sexuality.
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*I refer herewith the adjudicator to examine the advice given by medical professional vis-a-vis the simultaneous use of condoms and the contraceptive pill for the full effect of this comparison