Why does the universe see fit to continue the fat fucks existence?

[LaylaCumiasMoistHotPocket]

What bargain has this pork roll made with the devil? He is an empty, soulless, gravy laden, pox on this planet. Fuck the universe. Sending positive vibrations to the Snyders (not the anal egg kind of positive vibration, like one certain mulatto bootlick enjoys, that will remain unnamed).

I demand justice. I demand this fucked up existence return to balance. TAKE THE FAT CUNT!!!

 

[Heyfellas]

What bargain has this pork roll made with the devil? He is an empty, soulless, gravy laden, pox on this planet. Fuck the universe. Sending positive vibrations to the Snyders (not the anal egg kind of positive vibration, like one certain mulatto bootlick enjoys, that will remain unnamed).

I demand justice. I demand this fucked up existence return to balance. TAKE THE FAT CUNT!!!

God likes us to loff

 

[Libby Son Of Loin]

He's fatter now than Jon was back during the Lappening. If he past at 48, then Pat's got at most 6 more years before turning over

 

[Conehead Nigger]

Black Jesus is a Patposter.

 

[LaylaCumiasMoistHotPocket]

He's fatter now than Jon was back during the Lappening. If he past at 48, then Pat's got at most 6 more years before turning over

I pray your benevolent observations come to fruition, lovely yet frayed, sweater of Dawn.

 

[Sexual_Tyrannosaurus]

Jon was a good man, but high BMI. Still, he always looked alert and strong. Patrick is a terrible human, loaded with meds, with yellow eyes and high BP.

Soon.

 

[LaylaCumiasMoistHotPocket]

Jon was a good man, but high BMI. Still, he always looked alert and strong. Patrick is a terrible human, loaded with meds, with yellow eyes and high BP.

Soon.

Yes, perhaps a higher realm took Jon as a reward for his earthly kindness and goodwill. Perhaps Patrick is headed to oblivion, to languish in his grotesqueries for eternity.

 

[Libby Son Of Loin]

I pray your benevolent observations come to fruition, lovely yet frayed, sweater of Dawn.

She sweats all right, folds under those giant puppies are soaking wet by midday. Too bad they reek of shea butter

 

[Will Tate]

What more hellish existence can you think of than living Pat's life? Death would release him from his self-created torment, but God knows he doesn't deserve that yet.