Hey faux-Raped-Traficked lady who FAKE FELONIOUS police reports about being abused and held hostage and beaten and says she's a Christian.
This is code. Hey, if those reports were so terrible, why did I never get any copies of them--fully--in my email? Honestly, it seems like they could have ... you know, been matched up. And, why no paper on the reversal? Why no paper at all? It seems like--as a victim--you might have been more interested in kicking down documentation that ought to have been publicly accessible.
KUCZI@UNICORNTODAY.COM
How did you like the 2 hats that you wear ?
I can't speak to that. However, I do like my hats: and, miss them. You know what would be cool? If I could fucking go get them, but I can't, and the reason why is MASS HYSTERIA. This is gonna take weeks to figure out--and that's assuming I am exonerated at trial. (I tried flashing my halo on and off, and while they were impressed--they gotta make it look good for the hoi polloi.)
Next "Q" is simply, How Do You Sleep at Night?
I can't speak to that. However, I am curious, what do you care? What, what, are you standing up for me now? Nigga,
please.
You are literally the most dishonest, hurtful, evil, unethical, fraudulent,, and 'biggest' LYING, DESTRUCTIVE, NARCISSISTIC, CRAZY, COWARD, that I now give absolutely zero fucks about, that has the blasphemous fucking gall to falsely claim to be a follower of Christ.
You don't get out much, clearly. I met this one person, who claimed to have all kinds of trouble meeting women--because he was, you know, shy--and then it turned out, he was pimpin' hos on the side for extra scratch. I mean, I guess, sure, he might have been telling the truth about meeting women... but then did not follow up with congruent information in consensual reality. What an asshole!
Anyway, I seen worse. Honestly, I've been worse. How do you think I got this gig? QUALIFIED.
Don't ever flatter yourself again fatass.
This is petty. Come on. This is no way to present yourself to the public--especially on this day of all days, the launch of your Flagship Network. (btw: kudos.)
NOBODY wants you except dumbass Cuckstar who thinks I am your husband.
I beg your pardon: I want for no one, no thing, and... okay hang on there is some thing I am wanting--am I? huh--but it's not what you think, and it's not what you have wrote. Lots happened. You weren't informed. For that matter, I haven't been informed on many items, I've been held up in Customs.
Please, don't imagine you are up-to-date on current patterns. Timelines are in flux. Also, I cucked you (unknowingly, but, I had a feeling) and I was never jealous of you and her, Sport--it was something else entirely. Something you barely understand. Also: something that has been resolved, so...
Please burn in the lake of fire when I go to Heaven. I fucking hate you. I will pray for you if I can someday. Right now, not happening.
Sounds serious. I wish you some good fortunes on your upcoming healing journey.
#GodWon
#YouLost
Are we sure about that? Look, I'll be honest--you probably know a lot more than me about that. However, since I'm still out on bond, motherfucker, and I have a knife hanging over my head--seriously, it's probably just a hallucination, but it's up there, all the time, spinning around and 'round--so it might be relevant here for you to notice that... uh, let's not speak too soon. How about -you- not speak too soon.
And how about... hey, why are you using my thread for this? Oh, right, this was your thread. Okay, well, you probably could have changed the subject line. I'm just sayin'. I wanna--need to be clear here: I'm not looking to contact That Woman.
P.S. Azz deserves sainthood. You deserve zilch.
I can't arrange that right now, but I'll make some calls later. I think you might be surprised what we all of us deserve. For example, I didn't think that Azz deserved copies of those emails--and in the absence of any contact (gee, I wonder why, Triple_Dubb) in response, I decided to go another route.
No complaints. Nevertheless, some of your conjectures seem quite far-fetched, based on the telemetry I have at my disposal. Naturally, I would expect you to have -extra- data at this point, compared to me. Which, of course, you were willing to prov--oh, wait.
You know, if you could be as generous with your data as you are with your hashtags... well, who knows. Be Best.
YOU ARE GROSS AF.
Thanks for your help. You've made a big difference.
Have a shitty day!
Well, I can't know--and don't know--but it might not be best for that to be the case today. I mean, really, why spread discontent? Honestly. Tsk tsk. I suppose this could be code, huh? Well, that's no business of mine.
SICK-O! X INFINITY
I plan to work on implementing a remote detox program, as soon as I am exonerated at trial, and return from leaving the country and returning about 22 and a half million dozen times. That last part is just as a courtesy, I don't wanna barf.
F U C K OFF EVIL DEMON!
This is not how most baptisms go, from what I've read, but it's catchy and I can imagine a nice beat to dance with it to.
"My God, vengeance is yours.
Thank you.
Nice. Look at the chutzpah. You're telling God whose vengeance it is. Sweet. That is impressive. Whose candy wrappers are these?
Amen."
C'mere. Give me a hug. You can cry it out. I won't judge. (That's someone else's job.)
(This is not an attempt to contact That Woman. Hi, Mom!)
