Stlyes and clothing aren't opinions. If you want to be taken seriously, learn to spell and change your email. I'm not going to be corrected on deep matters of ethics and morals with a rabid cow. To read her letter, go here
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| THE SAGA OF THE GUESTBOOK SIGNER | ||||||||||||
| It all started on an ugly, rainy night when I checked the guestbook to find that someone had finally signed the fucking guestbook. Leaping for joy, I read the post (it's still there, by the by) and realized it was an evil come-on to fight. Kind of like how duelers used to slap each other in the face with gloves. I quickly responded to the post with: | ||||||||||||
| special note to guestbook signer #1: I am not a goddess (or god, for that matter). If you can find a spot on the site where we critisize someones opinions, email it to me here. | ||||||||||||
| Then she sent a simply lovely email. I retaliated, as one must when whapped not with normal gloves but those spiky-ass leather bondage gloves. Mittens I can take. Spiky-ass bondage gloves: no. Here's what I said: | ||||||||||||
| Special note to guestbook signer #1 (part two) Stlyes and clothing aren't opinions. If you want to be taken seriously, learn to spell and change your email. I'm not going to be corrected on deep matters of ethics and morals with a rabid cow. To read her letter, go here |
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| Overall it was a lot of fucking fun. I highly recommend it. | ||||||||||||