My cousin, dear cousin

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I have to thank all you westerners here, for filling my life with sybartic joy. You have lighed my loins, enraged my passion and have made me regress into the Pashtun animal I am. My cousin from the west had truly become in his essence a westerner. His superiorty had risen in his feminisation, he was truly ready to be our obliging cumslut. Boypussy--Boh-eh-pus-seh-- a four syllabe word, with twists and turns that had given us exquisite pleasure. His sullied western mind has become degenerated too salacious idealites and his supple flesh with it's labyrinthine curves had become the villages trek. Up and down rubbed our hands, nudges from tips of our fingers at his back and winks espied that caused him to become our life force.

Our little westerner boy tied on the pole, ah yes, turns and twists and twirls but all we see is his white little pearls moving to cream loquacious moans seemingly causing us engage in more turns.

Westerner oh westerner, wh*Te of feminizing blight, you have our right, to condemn more of this so they may lie infront of us in the same sight.