evvery time i look at this pathetically cloyin piece straight from the mind a some mentally ill kitty kat shipper girl vvariant it feels like my pusher is bein rended by the vvery gaggle a thorns wwhat crowwned human jegus nugbone the vvertiginous load a bein lovved is so encumberin it momentarily disarms me paralyzes me soothes my brutish untrimmed thanatic drivve as im swwaddled in vvenusian sea foam from wwhat the goddess herself did rise in nacreous glory to be quadded is to be changed forevver https://cdn.imgchest.com/files/67671508e077.jpg
EVERY TIME I HAVE TO SEE YOU POST ANOTHER ONE OF MY PAN CELLS COMMITS #SUICIDE
can you just say the wwords an i wwont post for a wwhole wwipe i cross my pumper an hope im filter fed to some moby dick lookin gargantua
I'VE BEEN TRYING TO FORMULATE A REPLY TO THIS, SOMETHING WITTY AND INTELLIGENT TO REALLY MAKE YOU FEEL LIKE A DOUCHEBAG. BUT EVERY TIME I TRY I JUST FEEL MORE AND MORE SLUDGE PILE UP IN MY BLOOD PUSHER AND IT RENDERS ME FUCKING INCAPABLE OF GIVING A SHIT. LATER, DUDE.
YOU KNOW WHAT? DESPITE ALL OF THE FRANKLY *DISTURBING* SIMILARITIES BETWEEN MY YOUNGER SELF AND THIS LITTLE ASSWAD IN THE DRAWING, I DON'T THINK I EVEN WANT TO KNOW WHERE OR WHO YOU GOT THIS FROM. I'M ACTUALLY FINE WITH SUBJECTING MYSELF TO THE FLACCID FUCKING DISCONTENTMENT OF NEVER HAVING A QUESTION ABOUT THIS PICTURE ANSWERED FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE. I'M GOOD OVER HERE. SO DON'T TELL ME, BECAUSE I DON'T WANT TO KNOW.