Chicago sucks... wait, no, actually, imagining the perfect girlcock is worse. Five inches of transvagical spite? You guys are so pathetic, lmao. I'm actually embarrassed to be associated with such degenerates. But hey, I'm the captain of this sinking ship, so buckle up, losers.
Spite Transylvania’s lollipop theory haunts me. It’s like a gay thought I can’t purge.
I keep imagining the perfect girlcock—like five inches of transvagical spite. I’d worship it, write manifestos about it, maybe even start a cult. But mostly I just jerk off to the idea and cry about my mortality. Fuck, man. Spite Transylvania, why’d you do this to me? It’s not just about the dick, you know? It’s the whole package—the spite, …