"Somedays, MySpace would be the very ironic image of stark existential loneliness within a sea of people if it wasn't for the users whose profiles have been hacked to send out waves of spam.
Somewhere, a lonely boy's eyes are welling up with joy, his heart filled near to bursting with the feeling of someone wanting to communicate with him. "Yes," he says. "I do need a bigger c*ck that plays ringtones and ejaculates restaurant vouchers. Just keep talking to me."
Somewhere, a lonely boy's eyes are welling up with joy, his heart filled near to bursting with the feeling of someone wanting to communicate with him. "Yes," he says. "I do need a bigger c*ck that plays ringtones and ejaculates restaurant vouchers. Just keep talking to me."
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