this is another letter of complaint from my website of (homo)sexual assault that is
WWW.JAGGEDLITTLEDYL.COM and WWW.ANTI-GAY.COM
"When I'm hungry, I eat. When I'm thirsty, I drink. When I feel like saying something, I say it." - Madonna
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dear sir or vagina:

i went to "the cranberry creamery" today, i had never been there before and i actually thought it could be a crematory whenever i passed it, so you can imagine how taken-aback i was.

when i first got there, i thought it was a joke - what, do they make ice cream from leftover breastmilk of dead ladies? not that that would be a bad thing, though retrieving it would be a problem. i mean, it'd be as difficult as getting an egg from a dead vag. oh, haha, vaginas laying eggs...that reminds me of an episode of "the nanny," when c.c. thinks it's maxwell behind her and it's really niles. anticipating sexy-time, she says, "tell me what you want me to do," and niles whispers, "cluck like a chicken". confused, c.c. says "what," and niles says, "it turns me on". so c.c. clucks like a chicken, like a chicken laying an egg, and it was especially funny to me because i'm always one to ridicule females by using nothing but the reality of femininity.

little women everywhere get so angry when they're belittled by the reality of their own gender, the reality of their own milk-leaking MOMmary glands and the reality of their own egg-bleeding vaginas. they're all about DAIRY and BABIES, milk and eggs and milk and eggs - by the way, with milk and eggs one can make PUDDING where one can find PROOF of gender-roles (if one can't seem to find that proof in widening hips versus widening shoulders, if one can't seem to find that proof in cars ahead of them with seemingly nobody in the driver's seat and a noticeable head towering over the top of the passenger's seat, and if one can't seem to find that proof in any barbells inside of any "curves fitness center" that would not regard any wombn as "stronger than a fifth grader").

anyway, getting back to the cranberry crematory, i'd have to say that their summertime treats are fabu. wherever did they find a set of mammary glands to continuously put out such quality-laden milk? is their secret actually my aforementioned fantasy of using postmortem breast-milk? maybe hannibal had the right idea.

mr. dylan terreri, i
dr. sheldon cooper, ii
www.thelessergender.com
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"When I'm hungry, I eat. When I'm thirsty, I drink. When I feel like saying something, I say it." - Madonna
www.jaggedlittledyl.com/essays
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check out my site, www.jaggedlittledyl.com , unless you're there now