Till the day he dies.

You spit out these lies as if you’ll get given a nobel prize while all this shit you despise is just another disguise cause your dick’s no bigger than two fries. You need a better compromise than roaming around and fucking doll’s eyes, your starving of supplies but begging would be quite unwise. Your life is going down like a pint-sized chastise and there won’t be any give rise other than sweet goodbyes. Atleast the flies will enjoy eating away at your decaying thighs when all your lies are broken down meat flesh buried down in Marseilles. Oh how it would be such an apprise to upsize and sensationalize your worldly demise.