Tailgating Premadonna Slipstreaming Pace Car

I’m attempting to resolve my social media dilemma con instructively in the showery without demonstrating to my psychiatrist who is just licensed to turn around and apply it to someone else as a remedial treatment case study lesson for the bank of social media friends in the fish tank attack concentration camp doggy dogg school environment system that I highly distrust without rushing needlessly into a desperate alliance with a complete unknown social society perspective.  The gringos like to assign their bitches to what I’m doing and pay them.  It’s an old high school basketball diary grudge match of distrust with American women willing to cheat, steal, and bribe to strip me of my pride.  That’s the deal I have to shower the Nicaraguans, Cubans, and now the Mexicans with some pendejo cop from sunset looking over my shoulder as if I didn’t mind.  Famous that these women are as incompetent as the British natives they subject leg up pony down treatment to in this country and dislike my bitch whisperer rhetoric in scoring their dream pape like it was niga blonde.  Obviously the American women profile me as a loser because of my employment and girlfriend status.  It’s like having a premadonna as the nascar pace car just for you and you winning but risking the slipstream by speeding her up as a honky tailgater my mother used to chide me for.