You are so fucking fat that you bust out of your clothes 12 times a day and have to change them constantly. That is the only explanation for the five loads of laundry you do each night. This habit is bothersome to neighbors, but not nearly as irritating as the fact that you whore yourself out to pay your rent, which you rarely pay on time. Here's a little advice: if other people in the building are doing their ONE load of weekly laundry, please TRY to be a human being and wait until they are finished before taking their clothes out of the washer and wadding them up on the filthy counter in the laundry room. I know that's a stretch for you since your remaining two brain cells were pickled last night when you drank that whole box of wine. Speaking of wine, I have a bottle of Dom Perignon in my refrigerator just waiting for the right occasion to celebrate. The day your BET-listening, box-of-wine-drinking, fat white ass moves out (or better yet—gets kicked out) we are opening that sucker up and drinking to your continued failure as a human. Meanwhile, the next time I see some gold-chain-wearing comb-over case walking into your apartment for a blow job, I am calling the police because prostitution is illegal. You fat, ugly, laundry-disrespecting cow.
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