Don't Piss Off Jailbait
You knocked me up and didn't do shit about it. Oh, wait—you did give me $20. I was 15 weeks pregnant when I got the abortion. It was the most painful thing I have ever experienced in my whole life, and you ditched me like jury duty. When I asked to snuggle, you told me to be big spoon and rolled over and went to sleep. You never once acknowledged what I was going through or showed even a glimmer of respect for our child. When I called you to tell you how hard this was for me, your imbecilic response was, "Let me meditate on that and call you back." You never called back. SUCK IT, you idiotic new age schmuck. What kind of person meditates on his pregnant girlfriend's emotional trauma and decides NOT to call?! I should sue you for child rape while I'm still underage. You're eight years older than me and you can hardly comprehend common fucking sense (i.e., giving some empathetic snuggle-time to your impregnated jailbait booty call... or at the very least some fucking ice cream). I'm glad to be rid of you. You always were inscrutably apathetic. You say you're just simple; I think you're just insipidly shallow. So here I am: underage, unemployed, homeless, and (thank god for second-trimester abortions) childless, filled with raging hormones, lactating like a fucking cow, hating your guts like Hitler hated retarded Jewish babies. Fuck you, you fucking fuck. I hope you break your kneecaps and wake up in a puddle of vomit the next time you decide to mix alcohol and ketamine. Dumbass.
P.S. I peed in your shoes. And I want my toothbrush back.