Actually I'm feeling a bit sick tonight watching the pampered prima Donnas eat. Whilst millions starve, we see them eating tons and tons of cuisinery eloquent food. And it's fecking served to them!! wtf this isn't fun. Turn the tables and make the bastards have to work to catch and cook their own food. I'd like to see the Slutty Abi Titmuss on her hands and knees searching for food.Now they're discussing their designer clothes. Yawn.
Fuck, there's no release with the adverts. That sodding Kid robbing a bank advert is on..... Someone shoot me quick.
Now we get to decide which pampered and petted celeb get to have even more luxury and treats in the 'Love Shack'
That Paul is the most repugnant man I have ever seen. I wouldn't want to sit next to him in a pub let alone watch him on TV. He is so slimy and false. All the bare skin has turned him into a huge testosterone boil ready to explode his load all over love island. Rejection after rejection is causing his frustration to mount to the point we may see some bukkake one night.
Feckity feck...We now have poems written by Michael Greco. Nausea Inducing words of overt praise for his fellow Island mates. Total shite. And I just watched it. I need my head read.
No comments:
Post a Comment