This could have been a story about that special loved one, family member, or teammate that just makes life worth living; it’s not. This is about that person that exists in everyones life, a parasitic leech attached to someone you care about or a person that is malicious towards you for no reason. You may or may not know this person but they are talking shit about you right now. This virus manifests themselves differently for each person so we will spare details and cut directly to the solution.

My proposal is simple: extend a woman’s right to choose. Extend that right to society as a whole, and to a term of at least however many years and however many months old that cunt may be right now. This is necessary because those conniving individuals have somehow missed their appointment with fate, as a puddle of flesh and blood, on the floor of Examining Room #7 of Planned Parenthood.

Unfortunately, at this late date this “procedure” can no longer be performed by a pill, fancy surgical vacuum cleaner, or the preferred method in the early days of our Republic, the rusty coat hanger. So instead, every municipality should to have a dedicated pack of vicious, starved, inbred, ritualistically tortured Doberman pincers. Upon a proper filing of grievance with the local authorities, this pack of rabies infected mutts will be unleashed upon their target, freeing you and your loved one from unnecessary drama and misery.

Perhaps this may seem too drastic or crude. Then instead next time you see a pregnant bitch, who looks like they are going to give birth to a fucking useless excuse for a human being. Kick them in the stomach.