You're gonna die
alone, unmourned and unloved.
It
is Friday night.
note the message being sent to me by someone who can't seem to figure out how to not use prostitute Mass marketing spam to hide their messages, I recognize the name as somebody who was working as a line cook at Olive garden in the early 90s who I recently saw working as a prosecutor at the Hall of Justice this year.
The entrapment literally goes back to grade school. I can't even imagine how they're going to calculate the liability, but I can tell you that I don't care, as long as it's the biggest it's ever been, and all of you take a little bit so you can go buy her ass some shoes. I heard she likes them, shoes. They're cool for your feet.
Shoes. Now get to work. work on something you stole from me and make it look like it was supposed to for once, I don't know what you and your ilk do, and you had no interest in telling me, subsequently I have no interest in hearing about it.
Just fucking go do it.
