It is that sick, twisted idea that's been disturbing me since Labour Day.
It is the idea of paying a good sum of money, to torture horny, careless victims to death.
... to death.
Quentin Tarantino is the first to make me feel sick to my stomach after watching a movie.
I'm not sure if my headache, throbbing on the right side of my lower head, to this cramp on my neck, to my aching shoulder is the aftermath of an extremely distressful thought, which I have to make an extra effort to keep my mind off of.
Dear Lord... their screams...
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