Saturday, 24 November 2012

Lament of the Lady Killer


So you reckon you're so haute-culture, posing in your wannabe Armani suit and shabby blue jeans? That vain attempt at a far-away glance, shifty-eyed, like a weasle sizing up his spoils, aspiring to live out some sordid oedipus complex, caught in a testosterone schism between Romantic Age opera and the UEFA Cup. Stalking divas in virtual reality to project their daughters into such diminuitive sexual roles, it's rather like the sadist that goes after the prettiest butterflies just to pull off their wings before a captive audience. Yes, I see you skulking around the site, a regular Don Giovanni posting your virtual bouquets in the hopes that some dejected heart might identify with your sexual nihilisms and actually buy that book, for what pretence and lacking depth of character?...after all, you did say you didn't want anything money can't buy...and since when does someone who professes to teach English, write whether as “weather”, beliefs as “believes” and deluded as “diluted”? Face it man, you're not fooling anyone looking like a Hispanic on the trail of his NS father. I know alot of them were hiding out in South America, so you're definitely barking up the wrong tree here.

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