Dear Faggort Who Refused to Stop Rubbing My Bird on the MRT,

I know we haven’t met and I know you may have been taken by my Dominic Ochoa-like ways. I know that as fugly as you are, you haven’t had secks since like forever. I pity you. But not enough for pity secks.

Why the hell do you think that rubbing your hand against my bird is
such a good thing? I know it’s pretty crowded and all and I know that
you may have a thing for public secks, but geez, that’s just plain
gross. Haven’t you already taken a hint when I pushed your hand away
and moved two inches away? You really had to move closer to me
everytime I move away. And is “back off, buddy” Greek to you? Do I have
to speak fag so you’d understand me?

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