Loving Louis Vitton
Louis Vitton I fucking love you I fucking hate you, you made my wife go out and buy a handbag and then I called her a bag and then I fucked you in the eyehole because you is a fuckbag.
You make fuckbags.
What the fuck you want from me? I don't eat your handbags because they made from cows. I eat cows, man! I don't put shit in the cows. I eat the cows and they love me because I eat them and I love you and I hate you Louis Vitton your cows have capital letters on their sides with no typos you must have good spellcheckers maybe god is on your side and my mother checks my spelling and she is only not god.
Louis Vitton loves mynocks and eats them and puts them in his handbags and makes me love them too with my seed.
Louis Vitton googles himself to make me think I’m googling myself when really I don’t exist because I don’t have a handbag.
Man I’m lubed up thanks Mat and I would thank Louis Vitton but I don’t have a handbag and he’s got it in for me since I scribbled urinary tract infections about him on the urinal wall. I SMS’ed “urinal” to my psychologist which I wouldn’t have done if Louis Vitton had wings.