Brother ordred pizza. Iām hungry. Bite into it like itās the first meal Iāve had in the past week and itās. really bad. Ask him why, as is a good course of action. Itās āThe Walterā.
Walter tastes. Like cigarette butt personified. Like food stain on deadbeat dadās wifebeater. Hell hath no fury like The Walter on my tastebuds on a lonely Thursday night. Whoever Walter is, fire him, and send him to my house where Iāll make him āThe Woman Scornedā and he will pray he learns how to absolve himself of his sins.










