Dear Mr. (not) Nice Guy,

Fuck you you fucking heartless bastard. If I ever meet you in person I advise you to guard your twig and shriveled berries with your life before I kick them into the back of your throat. It is guys like you that make me wonder if man has ever evolved at all. I'm sure sitting around scratching yourself, burping, taking the occasional piss, and feeling up girls you couldn't dream of dating is quite exhausting. God, you must be some kind of a king to handle the hardships of your life. Jesus, there should be some sort of a website dedicated to warning other girls against bastards like yourself. I'm sure it's only a matter of time before you're on the sex offender registry anyway. Nobody loves you, nobody ever will, and pretty soon the neighbors will be shielding their children's eyes when you drive past, picketing your existence in the world, and writing their congressmen about how a soulless pervert like you is terrorizing the innocent women and children of Nashville. Go rub one out while fantasizing about how big of a man you are. Maybe that will help you forget for 3 minutes that you are a completely worthless human being.


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