
“The only people that spend that much time shopping on their phone are women and faggots…” – Me to Alton after one of his numerous times a day bathroom visits that last for over an hour because the Queer would rather finger bang his phone than pussy.
As I sit here barely able to breathe thanks in part to the chronic cigarette smoking he insists on doing in his room, despite the daily pleas from me begging him not to because it causes numeric unsavory health effects on me that generally last for hours, my head throbbing from the smoke and my severely escalated stress levels due being fucked off for a smart phone and/or listening to the same repetitive stories about his God damn car I’m fighting a bloody nose from the tension his unnecessary rudeness and chaos..all I asked for was positive attention instead i get more bullshit than i can physically handle. Love isn’t supposed to hurt like this. What the fuck happened to him…?!
“What if I want to watch him funk you?” – Alton pops off at me regarding my ex Millionaire Douche.
“I need to go get balls deep so you need to go home.” – Alton pops off yet again with more stupid shit. “Go to the beach that guy (not even sure who he’s talking about this time – shocker) and let him pay your way.”
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