I ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ remember you, you damn pervert. You were that guy that pushed me on the McDonald's parking lot floor and violently shoved a ♥♥♥♥ in my mouth and told me, "You have to drink it all~" and slapped me in the face with it for 3 minutes while repeating the same ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ phrase over and over again, "You like this, don't you? Dirty ♥♥♥♥♥~". Then when you were about to squirt you shoved in in my mouth and you forced me to gag and swallow it. You then said, "Choke on it you ♥♥♥♥!" and left me to rot in the corner. Not only that, but you damaged my throat so badly, everytime I eat or drink anything I can still taste your salty, thick ♥♥♥ in my throat. Now, everytime I'm having a good time eating my favorite foods, I always remember you licking your lips and moaning.'

I apologize for I was too busy having sex to realize you said something. You see, I appreciate the smaller things in life, a good sunrise, glass windows the size of doors, and the number sixty-nine. Some may call it Childish but I am simply too Gambino for that as I'm sure you can tell. In my defense I was simply helping a man find himself, we all go through the phase where we want the comments or the posts to stay the same number forever. It's best to let them be and let them learn that the smaller things in life are temporary, sunrises become afternoons, big sheets of glass in doctors offices get blinds, and number sixty-nine eventually must become seventy and that's really all that matters isn't it?