Someone save me from this violent fiend

I’m not receiving even a fucking single penny from this situation and it’s been 4 years. This being is disgusting and gross

Mmmm try Workplace Solutions, they have great lawyers.

Holding the bowtie in my hair. “Save me save me. Save me from this fiend!”

Moving the bowtie to my upper lip: "There is no one to help you. You are mine. All mine.

Moving the bowtie to my hair: “Help! Help! He is disgusting. He is gross. Someone help!”

Moving the bowtie to my upper lip: "No one will help. No one cares. Come here and I will lick your flesh. It puts the lotion on the body. Eeee heeee heeee heee heeee heeeeeeeee.

Moving the bowtie to my hair: “Oh please someone help.” (Dropping to my knees, pressing the bowtie to my head so it will not slip off, and making a prayer gesture with both hands) “Please please help me!”

Quickly standing, pressing the bowtie to my nape, raising a hand in a triumphant gesture: “I’ll help!”

Moving the bowtie to my upper lip. “Curses, it’s than no good do gooder Cog!”

Moving the bowtie to my nape: In my best Mighty Mouse Immitation, “Here I come to save the dayyyyyy!”

Moving the bowtie to my hair. Clasping hands together in thanks. “My Hero!”

Moving the bowtie to my upper lip: “I really hate this guy.” Reaching into a pocket.

Moving the bowtie to my nape. Reaching down to the lovely lady and pulling her up off her knees. “You are safe with me!” Exaggerated chest puff as I gaze off into the distance.

Shifting the bowtie to my upper lip (BANG!!!) “Take that you no good do gooder.”

Moving the tie back to my nape. “Ouch!. Damn I hate when that happens.” Writhing over, as I grasp my stomach, blood pouring out from between my fingers. “Well, little lady… I guess your fucked.”

Moving the bowtie to my hair. “Oh no. You can’t die!”

Moving the bowtie to my nape: "Sure I can. Watch,… (Dropping dead)

Moving the bowtie to my hair. “Eeeeek.”

Moving he bowtie to my upper lip: “Now you are all mine. Yaa aaaa aaaaa.!”

Is our Iriss truely doomed? Is there no one out there who can help. Has our hero really had his butt gusted, gut busted? Will no god resurrect him? Is the disgusting evild demon going to have his way with iriss again and again and again? Stay tuned for the conclusion of this exciting spiritual adventure, same time next week. And don’t forget to visit our sponsor. Chiquita Bananas.

Oh eee
Ohh ah ah
Bing bang
Walla walla
Bing bang
Oh eeee
Ohhh ah ah
Bing bang
Walla walla bang!

You know - this is a good point…I mean, why give it away for free when you can get paid?

Deimos personification of terror in Greek Mythology.
infeftment the bestowal of inheritable land upon a person. (Or inherited demon?)
overlavish Excessive/

Excessive bestowal of Dimos, the Greek god of the personification of Terror.

This is an actual acronym for the very words you have used. “Save me from this violent fiend.” You have named the fiend in your own subconscious. You know who he is . Just a little research reveals what is hidden in your subconscious.

deformative filthiness venom (Another Acronym describing the very beast that haunts you.) How precise your language has been. A deformative filthiness that fills your life with venomous disgust, violence and filth. Again your subconscious mind is speaking clearly to and about the demon within. One only need pay attention to what is being said.

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Now that he is out of the White House, you can sue him.




That was the house war cry of my house at school! (I left school in 1964)

I bet those pricks pinched it from some innocent Canadian . Their order was De La Salle. I’ll bet Canada is lousy with them. .

The cry of the kids in every Canadian Residential School :girl:t4::child:t4: :church: