This is a rant!
You're a woman. You have developed this notion over-night,
when you got your boobs and your curves and your perm
and your own personal clan of boys who jeer at your double
dees from across the crowded cafeteria, in the hall, and on the street.
She's for the day when you are bored for you to exploit behind closed doors.
They try to cop a feel without your consent. You're too embarrassed
to speak out against such unwanted advances.
Too bad she wasn't so ugly, because they would all hit it with a bag over her head.
She's not good enough to be your girl. They all have an average flat-chested
little unblossomed, innocent-looking blonde on their arm with long, straight hair.
She exists for the approval of everyone else, a trophy.
She's a debutante virgin, untouched by all the boys. F all of you!
Some day you will grovel on all fours, her curvacious shape dangling like a piece
of meat in your face at the supermarket while you walk with your frigid virgin with a
grim look on her face pushing a baby carriage. She has lobbed off her blonde hair, and gained a few pounds in all the wrong places. She's still a carpenter's dream, but not everywhere. I bet you wish you never called the brunette an ugly whore! You're the whore. Did she ever fondle you with unwanted advances?
Maybe you really didn't want the blonde. Maybe you wanted the brunette who
you labeled trashy that you completely ruined. She had a little experience unlike your
little lily white prom queen with her legs crossed all day and night long. The prom queen lied. She just covered her tracks and wasn't honest like Snow White. Now that you are tired of her shriveled up cunny, I'll just let you know, Show White is unavailable. Have a nice night with your bottle of lotion and your magazine, because Snow White isn't at home.
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