I have no passion. People without passion cannot love. But they also cannot hate. True neutrality. But you know what I really hate? I hate when I tell people I am incapable of hate and they call me a liar. That’s even worse. God, I hate that.

The other day a guy suggested I should get up and get out more. “Find something you love to do”, he barked, “then do it!”

“But I don’t love anything”, I told him.

“You love many things”, he announced, index finger held to the sky, like a teacher with a pointer at the blackboard. “You have love, but you have buried it so deep within yourself you can’t see it.” I figured that was the end of his speech before he added with great bravado: “I can help you find your love.”

“But if you help me find my love, doesn’t that mean all the hate I’ve got buried inside will come tumbling out as well?”

“That’s up to you”, he said.

“I’d like an answer”, I replied.

“Ok”, he said, “probably so. But it can be controlled. Both love and hate can be controlled. You need passion in your life - enough passion to love to the max, and to kill when you can’t find the love you’re after.”

I was genuinely befuddled. “You mean if you restore my passion I might go out and kill somebody?”

He laughed. “Somebody? Hell, you might kill a whole bunch of them.”

I was bored with the conversation. I told him so. “I hate talking about this kind of shit”, I said.

“See, your passion is returning already. Sometimes it starts with hate, but that opens the door to love. It seems you are on your way.”

And I was. I could feel it. The sermon this clown laid on me had me double twisted up with hate, and I let him know it. I could feel my wrists and fingers tightening up with the wild yearn known only to stranglers. I jumped on the dude. I put my hands around his neck and squeezed. Even with all that pressure on his trachea and voice box I could hear his muffled screams pouring free. And I loved it. Yes, it was a month ago that I learned that hate can lead to love, and I am writing this from the NC State Prison where I am doing 20 to life on a "COP" beef Crime Of Passion).

On 2/8/2022 5:49 PM, Thomas Joseph wrote:
> I have no passion. People without passion cannot love. But they also cannot hate. True neutrality. But you know what I really hate? I hate when I tell people I am incapable of hate and they call me a liar. That’s even worse. God, I hate that.
>
> The other day a guy suggested I should get up and get out more. “Find something you love to do”, he barked, “then do it!”
>
> “But I don’t love anything”, I told him.
>
> “You love many things”, he announced, index finger held to the sky, like a teacher with a pointer at the blackboard. “You have love, but you have buried it so deep within yourself you can’t see it.” I figured that was the end of his speech before he added with great bravado: “I can help you find your love.”
>
> “But if you help me find my love, doesn’t that mean all the hate I’ve got buried inside will come tumbling out as well?”
>
> “That’s up to you”, he said.
>
> “I’d like an answer”, I replied.
>
> “Ok”, he said, “probably so. But it can be controlled. Both love and hate can be controlled. You need passion in your life - enough passion to love to the max, and to kill when you can’t find the love you’re after.”
>
> I was genuinely befuddled. “You mean if you restore my passion I might go out and kill somebody?”
>
> He laughed. “Somebody? Hell, you might kill a whole bunch of them.”
>
> I was bored with the conversation. I told him so. “I hate talking about this kind of shit”, I said.
>
> “See, your passion is returning already. Sometimes it starts with hate, but that opens the door to love. It seems you are on your way.”
>
> And I was. I could feel it. The sermon this clown laid on me had me double twisted up with hate, and I let him know it. I could feel my wrists and fingers tightening up with the wild yearn known only to stranglers. I jumped on the dude. I put my hands around his neck and squeezed. Even with all that pressure on his trachea and voice box I could hear his muffled screams pouring free. And I loved it. Yes, it was a month ago that I learned that hate can lead to love, and I am writing this from the NC State Prison where I am doing 20 to life on a "COP" beef Crime Of Passion).

Passion is an over-rated emotion. If you did strangle that man, I say
bully for you! Who the heck does he think he is to lecture you as if you
are a school child? I know you aren't in prison, that's just your guilty
conscience playing games with you. You don't belong in prison, you
belong in Congress.

Judith Latham wrote:

> Passion is an over-rated emotion. If you did strangle that man, I say
> bully for you! Who the heck does he think he is to lecture you as if you
> are a school child? I know you aren't in prison, that's just your guilty
> conscience playing games with you. You don't belong in prison, you
> belong in Congress.

Who the fuck are you to say that passion is an overrated emotion? I'm getting just a little pissed off here. I also do not appreciate being told, by anyone, that I belong in congress - or that I belong anywhere. I do not belong. I don't fit in. I don't want to. I am passionate about it. Passionate enough to kill. But I have to be properly irritated first. I don't kill on impulse, I need a good reason. Come on bitch - give me one. Just kidding, I am not a killer. But if you piss me off enough I am capable of paying someone else to do it for me. But you already know I can't afford to pay a good professional hit man. Anyway, it pisses me off that you agreed with me without fully explaining why. I need to know your reasons if I need to defend your comments against another person. Speaking of congress, it is quite obvious that members of such groups, the Senate, etc., have very little passion or commitment to their so-called beliefs or there would be more killings on the Senate floor. Their disagreements are mere pretense to rile the crowd who does their killing for them. Not enough passion from them. You are right though, I don't belong in prison. I am saving your comment for the day I am arrested for something, anything, and will use it in court as proof that I have support from other people.

"Judith Latham" wrote in message news:su19u0$9be$1@dont-email.me...

Passion is an over-rated emotion. If you did strangle that man, I say
bully for you! Who the heck does he think he is to lecture you as if you
are a school child? I know you aren't in prison, that's just your guilty
conscience playing games with you. You don't belong in prison, you
belong in Congress.

"Judith Latham" wrote in message news:stum9r$i8j$1@dont-email.me...

> Why are you so mean to me? What did I do to deserve your barrage of
> insults?

You fat bloated no excuse for a human being — it was you who decided to
insult me and my dirty stinky feet — Hey, Summer's Eve hasn't arrived yet so
I suppose it's not time for you to get your annual douche. Just imagine
sitting next to Judy Judy Judy and having to either vomit or get into
another room to avoid the stench of 500 lbs. of bloated grizzle in front of
a keyboard — For that is your whole live Judith, in front of a keyboard — In
fact when was the last time you actually got out of your dungeon and went
out for a walk or actually did some exercise? — I bet that if you ever were
to think about going for a walk it would have to be after the sun goes
down — there are dracula vampires just getting started for a fun filled long
night — And then there is Judy Judy Judy trampling on everyone and
everything trying to get to the street to take a walk. Yeah yeah yeah, we
all know that you don't take the sidewalk because you are so bloated that
you would never fit on the sidewalk — so that is why you choose to walk in
the street. Judith and the raccoons, and both looking for a late night
snack — How do raccoons keep fit and in shape while Judith the Hindenburg
Part II is growing larger every single day? — Forget that desire to get down
to 195 lbs. — Listen up you Oprah bloated toad, you are again gaining weight
and only the 500 lbs. mark might get you to actully put down the fork for a
moment — I bet when your mother gave you a pacifier as a bloated baby, you
tossed it away and cried for the fork, spoon, knive we all know you to be
with 24/7 now — What do you look like without any clothes on? — I know for a
fact that you have large un-controllable chunks of pure 100% lard all over
your body — and do in fact frighten people when they see you — and then say
to themselves: "that is what happens when you don't stop eating" — How is
that full-time job as a milestone? — Which city do you display on your chest
and back this week? — 20 miles to NYC — Is that what is emblazoned all over
you now? — The monumental tragedy is that you were born too late — If you
were young enough you would have been there at Lakehurst New Jersey helping
the HIndenburg bring its tail up to the proper height — I could see you as a
human paperweight and you could have saved the day and held the Hindenburg
right there so that they could properly land — I suppose that your
grandmother was there just picking her nose and eating it — instead of
helping — I suppose a gigantic disgusting tub of goo as you could pretend to
be pregnant and claim all sorts of money from the government and pretend to
take care of babies that you will never have — I suppose that if you ever
did get inseminated from some anonymous donor you would go ahead and have
the child and nicely put him/her over a hot bed of coals and roast the poor
thing until you decide to take some bites into the corpse and proceed to
look for more babies, possibly from neighborhood children who have strayed
into your property — and then you have them, like Hansel and Gretel story —
Judth Latham the gigantic cannibal is there with a big stew pot and inside
are the remains of about a dozen neighborhood children — Okay that was the
appetizer — Now what do you do for the main course? — You eat your other
members of your own immediate family? — Cause when fat people get hungry
they are like cocaine addicts or meth addicts, they will rob, steal, cheat,
lie, forge, burglarize anyone and anything to get their hands on some sugar,
candies, or when hungry . . . the local children.

I never appreciated that you lied about about my stinky dirty feet! — You
have never seen my feet, you have never smelled my feet — You have seen my
face — and everyone here knows that my handsome face is nicer than the
bloated BLOB monster of a living corpse you are right now — TJ is right, you
should do that stand-up comic act and just put a bag over your head — the
unknown asphyxiation comic — That would be very funny — Judith with a
plastic bag around her head and doing a countdown and placing bets as to
when the bloated monster will drop off the stage from lack of oxygen.

"Judith Latham" wrote in message news:stum9r$i8j$1@dont-email.me...

> Why are you so mean to me? What did I do to deserve your barrage of
> insults?

You fat bloated no excuse for a human being — it was you who decided to
insult me and my dirty stinky feet — Hey, Summer's Eve hasn't arrived yet so
I suppose it's not time for you to get your annual douche. Just imagine
sitting next to Judy Judy Judy and having to either vomit or get into
another room to avoid the stench of 500 lbs. of bloated grizzle in front of
a keyboard — For that is your whole live Judith, in front of a keyboard — In
fact when was the last time you actually got out of your dungeon and went
out for a walk or actually did some exercise? — I bet that if you ever were
to think about going for a walk it would have to be after the sun goes
down — there are dracula vampires just getting started for a fun filled long
night — And then there is Judy Judy Judy trampling on everyone and
everything trying to get to the street to take a walk. Yeah yeah yeah, we
all know that you don't take the sidewalk because you are so bloated that
you would never fit on the sidewalk — so that is why you choose to walk in
the street. Judith and the raccoons, and both looking for a late night
snack — How do raccoons keep fit and in shape while Judith the Hindenburg
Part II is growing larger every single day? — Forget that desire to get down
to 195 lbs. — Listen up you Oprah bloated toad, you are again gaining weight
and only the 500 lbs. mark might get you to actully put down the fork for a
moment — I bet when your mother gave you a pacifier as a bloated baby, you
tossed it away and cried for the fork, spoon, knive we all know you to be
with 24/7 now — What do you look like without any clothes on? — I know for a
fact that you have large un-controllable chunks of pure 100% lard all over
your body — and do in fact frighten people when they see you — and then say
to themselves: "that is what happens when you don't stop eating" — How is
that full-time job as a milestone? — Which city do you display on your chest
and back this week? — 20 miles to NYC — Is that what is emblazoned all over
you now? — The monumental tragedy is that you were born too late — If you
were young enough you would have been there at Lakehurst New Jersey helping
the HIndenburg bring its tail up to the proper height — I could see you as a
human paperweight and you could have saved the day and held the Hindenburg
right there so that they could properly land — I suppose that your
grandmother was there just picking her nose and eating it — instead of
helping — I suppose a gigantic disgusting tub of goo as you could pretend to
be pregnant and claim all sorts of money from the government and pretend to
take care of babies that you will never have — I suppose that if you ever
did get inseminated from some anonymous donor you would go ahead and have
the child and nicely put him/her over a hot bed of coals and roast the poor
thing until you decide to take some bites into the corpse and proceed to
look for more babies, possibly from neighborhood children who have strayed
into your property — and then you have them, like Hansel and Gretel story —
Judth Latham the gigantic cannibal is there with a big stew pot and inside
are the remains of about a dozen neighborhood children — Okay that was the
appetizer — Now what do you do for the main course? — You eat your other
members of your own immediate family? — Cause when fat people get hungry
they are like cocaine addicts or meth addicts, they will rob, steal, cheat,
lie, forge, burglarize anyone and anything to get their hands on some sugar,
candies, or when hungry . . . the local children.

I never appreciated that you lied about about my stinky dirty feet! — You
have never seen my feet, you have never smelled my feet — You have seen my
face — and everyone here knows that my handsome face is nicer than the
bloated BLOB monster of a living corpse you are right now — TJ is right, you
should do that stand-up comic act and just put a bag over your head — the
unknown asphyxiation comic — That would be very funny — Judith with a
plastic bag around her head and doing a countdown and placing bets as to
when the bloated monster will drop off the stage from lack of oxygen.

"Judith Latham" wrote in message news:stum9r$i8j$1@dont-email.me...

> Why are you so mean to me? What did I do to deserve your barrage of
> insults?

You fat bloated no excuse for a human being — it was you who decided to
insult me and my dirty stinky feet — Hey, Summer's Eve hasn't arrived yet so
I suppose it's not time for you to get your annual douche. Just imagine
sitting next to Judy Judy Judy and having to either vomit or get into
another room to avoid the stench of 500 lbs. of bloated grizzle in front of
a keyboard — For that is your whole live Judith, in front of a keyboard — In
fact when was the last time you actually got out of your dungeon and went
out for a walk or actually did some exercise? — I bet that if you ever were
to think about going for a walk it would have to be after the sun goes
down — there are dracula vampires just getting started for a fun filled long
night — And then there is Judy Judy Judy trampling on everyone and
everything trying to get to the street to take a walk. Yeah yeah yeah, we
all know that you don't take the sidewalk because you are so bloated that
you would never fit on the sidewalk — so that is why you choose to walk in
the street. Judith and the raccoons, and both looking for a late night
snack — How do raccoons keep fit and in shape while Judith the Hindenburg
Part II is growing larger every single day? — Forget that desire to get down
to 195 lbs. — Listen up you Oprah bloated toad, you are again gaining weight
and only the 500 lbs. mark might get you to actully put down the fork for a
moment — I bet when your mother gave you a pacifier as a bloated baby, you
tossed it away and cried for the fork, spoon, knive we all know you to be
with 24/7 now — What do you look like without any clothes on? — I know for a
fact that you have large un-controllable chunks of pure 100% lard all over
your body — and do in fact frighten people when they see you — and then say
to themselves: "that is what happens when you don't stop eating" — How is
that full-time job as a milestone? — Which city do you display on your chest
and back this week? — 20 miles to NYC — Is that what is emblazoned all over
you now? — The monumental tragedy is that you were born too late — If you
were young enough you would have been there at Lakehurst New Jersey helping
the HIndenburg bring its tail up to the proper height — I could see you as a
human paperweight and you could have saved the day and held the Hindenburg
right there so that they could properly land — I suppose that your
grandmother was there just picking her nose and eating it — instead of
helping — I suppose a gigantic disgusting tub of goo as you could pretend to
be pregnant and claim all sorts of money from the government and pretend to
take care of babies that you will never have — I suppose that if you ever
did get inseminated from some anonymous donor you would go ahead and have
the child and nicely put him/her over a hot bed of coals and roast the poor
thing until you decide to take some bites into the corpse and proceed to
look for more babies, possibly from neighborhood children who have strayed
into your property — and then you have them, like Hansel and Gretel story —
Judth Latham the gigantic cannibal is there with a big stew pot and inside
are the remains of about a dozen neighborhood children — Okay that was the
appetizer — Now what do you do for the main course? — You eat your other
members of your own immediate family? — Cause when fat people get hungry
they are like cocaine addicts or meth addicts, they will rob, steal, cheat,
lie, forge, burglarize anyone and anything to get their hands on some sugar,
candies, or when hungry . . . the local children.

I never appreciated that you lied about about my stinky dirty feet! — You
have never seen my feet, you have never smelled my feet — You have seen my
face — and everyone here knows that my handsome face is nicer than the
bloated BLOB monster of a living corpse you are right now — TJ is right, you
should do that stand-up comic act and just put a bag over your head — the
unknown asphyxiation comic — That would be very funny — Judith with a
plastic bag around her head and doing a countdown and placing bets as to
when the bloated monster will drop off the stage from lack of oxygen.

"Judith Latham" wrote in message news:stum9r$i8j$1@dont-email.me...

> Why are you so mean to me? What did I do to deserve your barrage of
> insults?

You fat bloated no excuse for a human being — it was you who decided to
insult me and my dirty stinky feet — Hey, Summer's Eve hasn't arrived yet so
I suppose it's not time for you to get your annual douche. Just imagine
sitting next to Judy Judy Judy and having to either vomit or get into
another room to avoid the stench of 500 lbs. of bloated grizzle in front of
a keyboard — For that is your whole live Judith, in front of a keyboard — In
fact when was the last time you actually got out of your dungeon and went
out for a walk or actually did some exercise? — I bet that if you ever were
to think about going for a walk it would have to be after the sun goes
down — there are dracula vampires just getting started for a fun filled long
night — And then there is Judy Judy Judy trampling on everyone and
everything trying to get to the street to take a walk. Yeah yeah yeah, we
all know that you don't take the sidewalk because you are so bloated that
you would never fit on the sidewalk — so that is why you choose to walk in
the street. Judith and the raccoons, and both looking for a late night
snack — How do raccoons keep fit and in shape while Judith the Hindenburg
Part II is growing larger every single day? — Forget that desire to get down
to 195 lbs. — Listen up you Oprah bloated toad, you are again gaining weight
and only the 500 lbs. mark might get you to actully put down the fork for a
moment — I bet when your mother gave you a pacifier as a bloated baby, you
tossed it away and cried for the fork, spoon, knive we all know you to be
with 24/7 now — What do you look like without any clothes on? — I know for a
fact that you have large un-controllable chunks of pure 100% lard all over
your body — and do in fact frighten people when they see you — and then say
to themselves: "that is what happens when you don't stop eating" — How is
that full-time job as a milestone? — Which city do you display on your chest
and back this week? — 20 miles to NYC — Is that what is emblazoned all over
you now? — The monumental tragedy is that you were born too late — If you
were young enough you would have been there at Lakehurst New Jersey helping
the HIndenburg bring its tail up to the proper height — I could see you as a
human paperweight and you could have saved the day and held the Hindenburg
right there so that they could properly land — I suppose that your
grandmother was there just picking her nose and eating it — instead of
helping — I suppose a gigantic disgusting tub of goo as you could pretend to
be pregnant and claim all sorts of money from the government and pretend to
take care of babies that you will never have — I suppose that if you ever
did get inseminated from some anonymous donor you would go ahead and have
the child and nicely put him/her over a hot bed of coals and roast the poor
thing until you decide to take some bites into the corpse and proceed to
look for more babies, possibly from neighborhood children who have strayed
into your property — and then you have them, like Hansel and Gretel story —
Judth Latham the gigantic cannibal is there with a big stew pot and inside
are the remains of about a dozen neighborhood children — Okay that was the
appetizer — Now what do you do for the main course? — You eat your other
members of your own immediate family? — Cause when fat people get hungry
they are like cocaine addicts or meth addicts, they will rob, steal, cheat,
lie, forge, burglarize anyone and anything to get their hands on some sugar,
candies, or when hungry . . . the local children.

I never appreciated that you lied about about my stinky dirty feet! — You
have never seen my feet, you have never smelled my feet — You have seen my
face — and everyone here knows that my handsome face is nicer than the
bloated BLOB monster of a living corpse you are right now — TJ is right, you
should do that stand-up comic act and just put a bag over your head — the
unknown asphyxiation comic — That would be very funny — Judith with a
plastic bag around her head and doing a countdown and placing bets as to
when the bloated monster will drop off the stage from lack of oxygen.

"Judith Latham" wrote in message news:stum9r$i8j$1@dont-email.me...

> Why are you so mean to me? What did I do to deserve your barrage of
> insults?

You fat bloated no excuse for a human being — it was you who decided to
insult me and my dirty stinky feet — Hey, Summer's Eve hasn't arrived yet so
I suppose it's not time for you to get your annual douche. Just imagine
sitting next to Judy Judy Judy and having to either vomit or get into
another room to avoid the stench of 500 lbs. of bloated grizzle in front of
a keyboard — For that is your whole live Judith, in front of a keyboard — In
fact when was the last time you actually got out of your dungeon and went
out for a walk or actually did some exercise? — I bet that if you ever were
to think about going for a walk it would have to be after the sun goes
down — there are dracula vampires just getting started for a fun filled long
night — And then there is Judy Judy Judy trampling on everyone and
everything trying to get to the street to take a walk. Yeah yeah yeah, we
all know that you don't take the sidewalk because you are so bloated that
you would never fit on the sidewalk — so that is why you choose to walk in
the street. Judith and the raccoons, and both looking for a late night
snack — How do raccoons keep fit and in shape while Judith the Hindenburg
Part II is growing larger every single day? — Forget that desire to get down
to 195 lbs. — Listen up you Oprah bloated toad, you are again gaining weight
and only the 500 lbs. mark might get you to actully put down the fork for a
moment — I bet when your mother gave you a pacifier as a bloated baby, you
tossed it away and cried for the fork, spoon, knive we all know you to be
with 24/7 now — What do you look like without any clothes on? — I know for a
fact that you have large un-controllable chunks of pure 100% lard all over
your body — and do in fact frighten people when they see you — and then say
to themselves: "that is what happens when you don't stop eating" — How is
that full-time job as a milestone? — Which city do you display on your chest
and back this week? — 20 miles to NYC — Is that what is emblazoned all over
you now? — The monumental tragedy is that you were born too late — If you
were young enough you would have been there at Lakehurst New Jersey helping
the HIndenburg bring its tail up to the proper height — I could see you as a
human paperweight and you could have saved the day and held the Hindenburg
right there so that they could properly land — I suppose that your
grandmother was there just picking her nose and eating it — instead of
helping — I suppose a gigantic disgusting tub of goo as you could pretend to
be pregnant and claim all sorts of money from the government and pretend to
take care of babies that you will never have — I suppose that if you ever
did get inseminated from some anonymous donor you would go ahead and have
the child and nicely put him/her over a hot bed of coals and roast the poor
thing until you decide to take some bites into the corpse and proceed to
look for more babies, possibly from neighborhood children who have strayed
into your property — and then you have them, like Hansel and Gretel story —
Judth Latham the gigantic cannibal is there with a big stew pot and inside
are the remains of about a dozen neighborhood children — Okay that was the
appetizer — Now what do you do for the main course? — You eat your other
members of your own immediate family? — Cause when fat people get hungry
they are like cocaine addicts or meth addicts, they will rob, steal, cheat,
lie, forge, burglarize anyone and anything to get their hands on some sugar,
candies, or when hungry . . . the local children.

I never appreciated that you lied about about my stinky dirty feet! — You
have never seen my feet, you have never smelled my feet — You have seen my
face — and everyone here knows that my handsome face is nicer than the
bloated BLOB monster of a living corpse you are right now — TJ is right, you
should do that stand-up comic act and just put a bag over your head — the
unknown asphyxiation comic — That would be very funny — Judith with a
plastic bag around her head and doing a countdown and placing bets as to
when the bloated monster will drop off the stage from lack of oxygen.

"Judith Latham" wrote in message news:stum9r$i8j$1@dont-email.me...

> Why are you so mean to me? What did I do to deserve your barrage of
> insults?

You fat bloated no excuse for a human being — it was you who decided to
insult me and my dirty stinky feet — Hey, Summer's Eve hasn't arrived yet so
I suppose it's not time for you to get your annual douche. Just imagine
sitting next to Judy Judy Judy and having to either vomit or get into
another room to avoid the stench of 500 lbs. of bloated grizzle in front of
a keyboard — For that is your whole live Judith, in front of a keyboard — In
fact when was the last time you actually got out of your dungeon and went
out for a walk or actually did some exercise? — I bet that if you ever were
to think about going for a walk it would have to be after the sun goes
down — there are dracula vampires just getting started for a fun filled long
night — And then there is Judy Judy Judy trampling on everyone and
everything trying to get to the street to take a walk. Yeah yeah yeah, we
all know that you don't take the sidewalk because you are so bloated that
you would never fit on the sidewalk — so that is why you choose to walk in
the street. Judith and the raccoons, and both looking for a late night
snack — How do raccoons keep fit and in shape while Judith the Hindenburg
Part II is growing larger every single day? — Forget that desire to get down
to 195 lbs. — Listen up you Oprah bloated toad, you are again gaining weight
and only the 500 lbs. mark might get you to actully put down the fork for a
moment — I bet when your mother gave you a pacifier as a bloated baby, you
tossed it away and cried for the fork, spoon, knive we all know you to be
with 24/7 now — What do you look like without any clothes on? — I know for a
fact that you have large un-controllable chunks of pure 100% lard all over
your body — and do in fact frighten people when they see you — and then say
to themselves: "that is what happens when you don't stop eating" — How is
that full-time job as a milestone? — Which city do you display on your chest
and back this week? — 20 miles to NYC — Is that what is emblazoned all over
you now? — The monumental tragedy is that you were born too late — If you
were young enough you would have been there at Lakehurst New Jersey helping
the HIndenburg bring its tail up to the proper height — I could see you as a
human paperweight and you could have saved the day and held the Hindenburg
right there so that they could properly land — I suppose that your
grandmother was there just picking her nose and eating it — instead of
helping — I suppose a gigantic disgusting tub of goo as you could pretend to
be pregnant and claim all sorts of money from the government and pretend to
take care of babies that you will never have — I suppose that if you ever
did get inseminated from some anonymous donor you would go ahead and have
the child and nicely put him/her over a hot bed of coals and roast the poor
thing until you decide to take some bites into the corpse and proceed to
look for more babies, possibly from neighborhood children who have strayed
into your property — and then you have them, like Hansel and Gretel story —
Judth Latham the gigantic cannibal is there with a big stew pot and inside
are the remains of about a dozen neighborhood children — Okay that was the
appetizer — Now what do you do for the main course? — You eat your other
members of your own immediate family? — Cause when fat people get hungry
they are like cocaine addicts or meth addicts, they will rob, steal, cheat,
lie, forge, burglarize anyone and anything to get their hands on some sugar,
candies, or when hungry . . . the local children.

I never appreciated that you lied about about my stinky dirty feet! — You
have never seen my feet, you have never smelled my feet — You have seen my
face — and everyone here knows that my handsome face is nicer than the
bloated BLOB monster of a living corpse you are right now — TJ is right, you
should do that stand-up comic act and just put a bag over your head — the
unknown asphyxiation comic — That would be very funny — Judith with a
plastic bag around her head and doing a countdown and placing bets as to
when the bloated monster will drop off the stage from lack of oxygen.