Arseholes and social reprobates want to convince us that the upside down of a fucking downy down, is actually the right way up.
They use their security blanketed shite, and wank stained mattress to remind us all that there is cold comfort in your pathetic acceptance, and irrelevance, in wondering why more never actually meant more.
JooDog, Freud, Dovey, Flea et al, want to remind you that the real enemy here is their narrative of despair, that they designed, but refuse too command.
Nearly all have changed their names, like that gives them anything but a Ridley Scott parasitical closure, while closing the site down to any form of worth, that might still attempt to redefine it.
The sunny side of the street is shrouded in a fucking darkness, that only serves the light pollution of the light weights that once created it.
This site was as always.... never better than that or TRF or BC or FT. However, it did command hope for what you yourselves, claim to be your trade.
All too good to be called out, and all too dumb to understand why that makes no sense whatsoever, in your USP of come see
and come hither in a Victorian internet sense. You raise your skirts and drop your bloomers, but are coy when it actually comes to being fucked.
Joodog spends his life asking, "and then what happens?", Dovey simply asks for bus and train timetable information, Freud simply asks why he had to be born Australian over and over again, and Flea is happy to recount what day of the week it is here in real time.
Scoudrel at least had a purpose, like a porpoise swimming with fucking cancer patients or limbless toddlers bobbing about on the undercurrent of failed expectation.... he at least had the patience to never care. What we have now is the bottom of the barrel wishing it could determine where the bottom of the barrel is.
The sunny side of our street is illuminated by you.
How embarrassing is dat?