I would say that i hope you explode. that i hope you get hit by a bus and die a slow, painful, miserable death.
i feel bad for you.
you’re fucking twenty eight years old and you work at fucking burger king.
i’m seventeen and this is only my summer job.
i’m leaving today, to go to college
to earn my degree and make something of myself.
so i don’t end up like you – a drug dealing asswipe of a sexual predator
and just because they didn’t believe me when i told my story, just because you didn’t get caught this time doesn’t mean you won’t.
one day you’ll end up on megan’s list.
i look at you, and i see everything that i don’t want to be when i’m your age. you are alone. you have no wife, no kids, no house. you’re on probation and you flip burgers for a living.
i hope you’re happy with your sad pathetic life.
if you’re miserable enough to get joy out of making my life hell, then i’ll be praying for you.
because trust me, you’ll need it more than i will.d