I don’t know what the hell Hilary Duff is doing here, but that bottle of vodka I had for breakfast this morning is telling me that she’s about to plunge her hand deep into the chest of some guy who really hates mustaches and successfully pull his heart out before the damn thing stops beating. An act that really isn’t that surprising since it’s as easy as breathing for most bitches.

Oh, did I say “bitches”? I meant to say “witches”. Like the fat lesbians that hang out at my local Pizza Hut all day, playing Pac-Man on that tabletop console that was commissioned back in 1981. They, too, like to wear black and even refer to themselves as Wiccan, which I believe means “witch with a fat ass” in Dutch. Unlike Hilary, however, they’re heart crushing/ripping out behavior is limited to laughing at me when I ask them out or dumping a bucket of pig’s blood on me at the senior prom. Cunts.

Oh, did I say “cunts”? I meant to say “fucking cunts”.