I would describe myself as far from exhibitionistic, however I believe social media of all places where a *scintilla* of navel gazing is permitted. With that, I present to the feed, my new profile picture...
Jus7 a genuine ques7ion. You're holding i7 in 7his image. Seems really impor7an7.
Is ebearything you ever hold important to you? Is your palmhusk in your hand really important to you? Are you particubearly fond of your bulge in your other hand?
Yeah, sure, girl. Le7's all be hones7 here. If I chopped off your bulge, you would no7 be happy. If I broke your palmhusk, you would no7 be happy. If I chopped off 7ha7 lock of hair, wha7 happens nex7? Narra7ively. So, 7ell i7 7o me s7raigh7, because I've been 7hinking abou7 7his since I wen7 on break and found 7his righ7 when I couldn'7 respond.
Aw, you've been thinking about me all shift? I'm flattered. I'm afraid it takes a little more than that to *inveigle* me, but I appreciate the thought. To be honest, I can't follow your argument at all. Maybe this is why I see you're working at a casino instead of at a legislacerator practice like the rest of our caste. Shame. Well, maybe not. Say, do you feel particubearly *ebullient* about your casino job?
Girl, fucking shove a knife down your load gaper. You don'7 know shi7 abou7 me or my fucking life so you have no righ7 7o commen7 on shi7 7ha7 you, by 7he way, are s7ill in school for. No7 only are you s7ill in school for i7, you're no7 even a gradua7e; you're in fucking pre-law and you're pos7ing bullshi7 on Chi77r all hours of 7he fucking day. How is your lusus doing, jobless bi7ch?
Did I strike a nerve? I was only asking to strike up pleasantries. Are *you* a graduate? Oh, wait. Sorry. Sensitive topic. My lusus is having a *halcyon* time, I'll have you know, but it sounds like you can't relate if that's the jab you're making. Anyway, Ad Hominem. And Red Herring. Yawn.
People 7hink you're a loser because you ac7 above everyone else, bu7[🍒🍒🍒JACKPOT🍒🍒🍒] you're a loser because you are nobody and when you gradua7e, your life will end.
Riiiight. Let me get this straight-- I don't hold a single iota of care in my pusher for what others think about me, and once I graduate, I'll be making six times your worth as a troll being while you're decomposing on the casino floor at your dead end job. [⌛⌛⌛JACKPOT⌛⌛⌛], you miserable bitch.
Girl, you don'7 have a fucking chin, or you have a double chin. You're hiding i7 behind 7ha7[🍒🍒🍒JACKPOT🍒🍒🍒] lock of hair. Jus7 wai7ing for you 7o admi7 i7.
Really creative. I haven't heard that before. How are those Happy Hour Faygos you need to get through the week treating you? Does that Faygo acid tract fit in your job's standard order tuxedo? Maybe you're just incensed beclaws you're too sober to handle looking at your dead-end life in the eyes. I don't see you pawsting your face online. Don't throw stones in a glass hive.