Dear Universe, (Part 2)

Who the fuck do you think you are? Are you some sort of sadist that gets pleasure from people's pain? Why do you repeatedly kick someone in the gut and once they're down, you kick dust into their eyes, and then you kick them in the mouth until blood starts to pour out of their mouth? Why do you let someone hit rock bottom, and instead of helping them up, you give them a jackhammer so they can drill deeper than the fuckin' molten rock that they've hit?!?!?!

I am sick of sitting down and taking all of the bullshit that you have thrown at me. I'm through! You hear me? I'm through! I will no longer lie down and let you kick me. Instead I will stand up, proud and tall, and no matter how many times you try and hit me, I'll still be left standing. I'll pull some Mohammad Ali shit, "Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee" mothafucka!

I will no longer be pushed around. I will take you down! I will cut your grotesquely hairy shaped balls, shove them up your ass, so you can watch me kick the crap out of you. Then, as Moe says, I'm going to use your tongue to paint my boat. (Even though I don't have a boat, I'll just find one to paint.)

You cannot jerk people around the way you do. You cannot tell them one thing and then change it on a whim. Emotions are something that should not be toyed with you sick cum recepticle.

In conclusion, screw you you sadistic piece of tit turd. I hope you rot in hell and have repeated hemorrhoids, not only on your ass, but on ever single orfice that exists on your pre-pubecent boy's body!

Sincerely,
LemonDrop