Bow to the culinary queen, the Barefoot Contessa!
Die, mother of a son with cancer, die!
Your wish would be better made on the futile hope of an undying body, cretin!
Do not touch mine beautiful, progressive form!
The Barefoot Contessa has traveled first-class to your poor hospital quarters after your dear child's yearlong wait only to shout down at you my own wish that you both might screw!
Choke on it as he chokes on his food intubation, vermin!
Now to travel back by helicopter lift to my dinner table, which is eleven times the length of his deathbed, where I shall feed my gay pets pure breast milk from a Cambodian immigrant. Smell ya later!
>>9008841
>ywn peg jeffrey
>>9008841
dirty jew
>>9008841
Id smash.