Look at yourself. Seriously, look.

You’re not even tied up, for fuck’s sake; I just handed you a baseball bat and you somehow got tangled on it. I can accept that you’re not bright, but, well… there’s a limit, y’know? You’re an obedient set of holes, but you’re also twenty-four years old and apparently unqualified to play with fucking sticks.

Jesus.

On the other hand, it should be easy to discard you when I’ve used you up. I can just walk you into a revolving door at the mall and let nature take its course.

entre-fille:

oldnakedguy:

entre-fille:

Boys don’t like me because I’d rather flirt with their fathers than them

bet the fathers like you. I know I would. Flirt with me, or better yet, have sex with me, I’m father age.

I would make fun of you for your poorly worded attempt of trying to harass me, but I cannot get over the fact that your url is oldnakedguy and therefore I do not think I have to make fun of you at all

Someone needs to.

“Have sex with me, I’m father age.”

Jesus Christ, that’s just spectacular.

  • Have sex with me, I’m underwater on my mortgage.
  • Have sex with me, my prostate is huge.
  • Have sex with me, my nose hair is out of control.

Priceless.

Was ever woman in this humor woo’d?
Was ever woman in this humor won?
I’ll have her, but I will not keep her long.

That’s from my favorite scene in Richard III, which I love because it beautifully captures the gleeful satisfaction to be had from watching a woman betray herself for a man.

It also reminds me of how society teaches its girls to follow their hearts, and how that teaching somehow never takes into account the many broken, fucked-up, and mangled hearts in the world, nor how those tortured little atrocities in their chests can lead some women down all the wrong roads.

But you already know that, right? If you were one of the girls on the right road, you’d never have found me.