variant nation

all of them, scum-sucking variant Hoarders. willing to tongue-kiss homeless people to get their grubby hands on whatever piece of exclusive Plastic is available. exceedingly Seedy. i feel seedy and it hangs on me like the flabby gladiators in their 300 loincloths swathing around in their long red capes, hoping people react to the Fantasy and not the ugly, smelly, stand-in-line-for-an-hour Reality. it becomes about Access and in this pit of 140,000 masturbators of Fantasy, they want to get out of their pimply Reality. what drives them? have they no Fear, no Decorum, that just because you CAN sew a catwoman costume does not mean you should wear it? go to the gym. and in the gym, furtive looks - everyone is Embarrassed because the Reality of hard work is contradictory to the magic words that build their Fantasy. and gods help me, i understand it, but am not Seduced by it, i am wary of that bitch Fantasy. she and her sister cunt Reality will always punch you in the nuts. they are rodents, scurrying and smelly and not even as noble as the rodents of new york and i promised myself i would be Compassionate, but their Loser stink is all over me. i am corrupted by it and appalled and yet i still work this. but i am here to Tell The Story. and i am still looking for the Story and i will keep looking. this Con is filled with people who do not get It. make your own Reality, just don't do it in front of others.