To the nasty, horrible, ghastly, dyed-red creature who regularly shops in Spryfield: You smell like 1,000 sewers. You obviously know this, as you’ve claimed to be offended by the Halls that service people pop in self-defense while suffering your presence. Often in the company of an older woman, your mother (a jackal?) or a social worker, in need of a career change, STAT, you smell like ass, and should remove yourself from public notice immediately. if this is some kind of social experiment, the public should be compensated for our forbearance. Take a bath! -A Long-Suffering Nose-Breather
This article appears in Apr 17-23, 2014.
What the fuck is the ”halls that service people pop”?
Forbearance? Have not seen this word used in a sentence since the 1500’s unless used in relation to a creditor.
Well, we now know where no fool shops.
If Stenchy McPong takes umbrage at Halls, try annointing your upper lip with Vicks or Tiger Balm next time you’re caught in her miasmic Ground Zero.
Spryfield and Stench, do we need to say anything further?
As soon as I read “Spryfield” I oddly felt no need to read any further.
In other news: the sky is blue and rain is wet.
COLOUR! You COLOUR hair and you DYE clothing. COLOUR! As in, “…nasty, horrible, ghastly, coloured-red creature…”
so op, you are breathing through your mouth instead, which means all those stink-particles are landing on your tongue. Christ, you may as well bend over and just start licking her pants.