i'm drunk, and brimming with emotions... it's not supposed to make sense... i've been listening to feministic poetry for the past hour... i can't make a coherent sentence even if i wanted to... a kettle is boiling in my head... oh and the love of women in relation to lies... ah... the child aspect, of the innocence of satan saying the first lie... that's who he is... those monsters that came later? he's scared of them more than he wished to have liked, to not have instigated, by telling his take on: the original sin. simply? a lie. oh such regerets in deforming his original guise.
well, how very ******* amusing... now i have to clean up all this filth in my life... lying was the thesis for the theology behind the genesis story of the, now, seemingly-less "original" transgression... *choke a monkey till it says the word donkey rather than have it say ooh ooh?!
- now the hard part -
fair enough, you subjectify me not objectifying you in order to not get an *******... but when you objectify me not subjectifying you in order to get a partner... you objectify me to subjecrtify you toward my own objectification of a phallus... blood flow. so what would you rather me be? a feministic... limp ****... come on... even moby is winking and telling a joke... i'll just go to a bulgarian ******* that might allow me, to take out concept-**** and just make the **** thing *****, from what you otherwise demand in "conversation": of it being floating, in a pickle jar, and apparently floating with something... that resembled my brain... hmm... sherlock!
so... we have: do not objectify women... as ****** partners... and we do not subjetify women... as partners in matrimony and equal in law... so what the **** do we do? ah... **** it... let's allow another billion chinese to breed themselves into the world; and if you're panicking... oh hush... don't worry... the darwinistic theory will survive, **** sapiens will survive... he just won't be white, or have blonde hair.