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Quarantine? More like quaran time 🕌👏 may allah bless you

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Look kid, I ♥♥♥♥ more attractive women than you have ever even seen with your prepubescent, desperate virgin eyes. I once beat up an ex heavy weight boxer because he looked at me wrong. He begged me to stop. He begged me to just let him go, But I didn’t stop. You sit there in with your ♥♥♥♥♥♥ computer, no job prospects past your nearest McDonald, and call me a beta male? You can’t even get the greese stains off of your ♥♥♥♥ between your fourth and fifth abdominal roll without the help of your mother, whom you have single handedly lead into an unimaginable misery by your mere pathetic existence. Take some of those bigs words and bring them outside into the real world. That way someone can beat you up before they send you crawling home to lick your wounds and make pissy internet videos ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ about people that you cannot even begin to understand from behind the drool covered binoculars you call glasses.

How much skill do you have?

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You sit at the restaurant with your young son, he says he is hungry. You agree to get him dinner. You open up to the kids menu, your child is far to young for adult food. Chicken nugger stares at you from the page. You don’t understand. Your palms get sweaty and your son complains. He says he is hungry. Your mind strains, searching for an answer in a world of sweer potato and french fried. You try to order the chicken nugger, but you cannot. The words cannot escape your lips. Your son is hungry, he complains. The waitress stares at you, her head a spinning chicken nugger, her arms swinging french fried. Your son cries the tears of a chicken nugger-less child. In your mind you scream. It is raining sweer potato now, you have french fried engraved on your left temple and you do not understand. Your son weeps in the corner, he is starving. Starving for the chicken nugger.