To the tan fuck in the fancy "laid back" jacket: I overheard you and your plastic girlfriend at Naomi's, floating the idea of buying chicks like they were a houseplants. "Lets get a couple." "What'll we do when he gets big?" "Where will we keep him, inside?" "He pecked me! Omg!" Yeah, you both kept saying 'he,' like a charicature of what rich dumb evil people sound like. I sincerely hope the staff stopped you from taking home hens for your temporary enjoyment—and if they didn't, I hope the hens shit all over your fucking condo before escaping. Animals aren't toys, you braindead fucking fucks.
Dumb chic chick asshats
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