Rubini is throwing your name around like you are some kind of contributor to his freaky fantasy world. Care to comment?
Heather, Evans your elder Minerva doesn't have any thing to say to me, your smarmy house-husband’s activities are no interest of mine, and literally no one is going to imagine that I've got anything else to share with that dork that we have both been raped by cops who live next door. The most egregious waste of time and public funds I've ever seen or heard of in my entire life, and you're just lucky that 9 out of 10 of those stupid bitches are women I don't give a shit about, because I figure, 10% odds of being really unhappy later —for at least a little while, I was kind of fond of her at some point — is pretty good odds, so, go ahead: start playing Russian roulette with a Glock.
Oh that reminds me: that whore you call my aunt probably shouldn't be allowed to carry a weapon. (No one imagined that I knew the entire thing was them from the beginning, but I did. That other cunt named “T. Michael” had just as much time as I to prepare, except he was on his own two feet for a lot longer than I ever could have been.) I hope they commit suicide together, that would serve them right and shine a lot of well-deserved pride on the Gifford family name.
“T. Michael Gifford”. Sounds like a real loser. What the fuck is a gif? It's nothing like a cliff. Maybe they should spell it with a Gamma Tank. Would it help with another T in the middle? More Tank! More Tink!
I'll have to hear more about this bullshit in coming weeks, great, and maybe for the rest of my life, wonderful, 500 years of dedicating statues to my legacy, so I'll spare you the rest of the details, but let me tell you why, this is all going to work out for me, a lot sooner than I'm ever going to work out for you (you and your ilk): you're all
worthless & weak, droolin’, boozin’ pillhounds and I ain't nothing but a literal legitimate ill-advised hound dog — and I taught myself to read backwards. First thing the replacement cops suggested we do, when they got in here? Satanivk blood orgy. My hand to G-d. Fortunately, I was not tempted to mention that I was already sworn to the service of Mother Gaia, as, had they had me pegged as a common dirt-worshipper... well, they would have picked me first to be pegged that very day, Hung-A-N8gger Style, and that night, Transylvania-trans-turnstile Style, which is basically the same thing except at the end I'm bleeding out onto the ground, not the cold hospital stone floors, with no incubators inside—I would just rise from the earth like a ghoul would. This is that kind of town, they deal in blood, and they could turn Stile off his game in this bloody joint.
Blood. Hungarian blood. Hungarian will — BELLINGHAM SCHWEINHUND.
I think my statues should have dogs pissing on fire hydrants. As a mo’ Keith.
(Hi Tif!) a dead horse. Yawn.
Tamara Michaelson:
kiss my true grits.
