Let's Call Her Dirty Pistacio

A long, over-due reaction.

Yes. I called you a whore, a harlot, a cunt who can't keep your legs closed. I called you a home wrecker, a bitch in heat, a slut pretending to be someone else. I don't care about your reasons, about your need of justifying that longing inside you, about your claim to 'lack of control' over things that were never meant to be controlled in the first place like love. How could you mistake selfishness for love??? You call making love to another woman's husband, love? Silly woman, your principles are ridiculous (which you probably take great pride in) as they fit perfectly well with your loose morale. You watched that son of a bitch abandon his pregnant wife with delight. You stood there with a smirk on your face, rejoicing on the thought that you won, without an inch of consideration for the children's well being while the wife fell into pieces. You were a happy spectator to a woman's agony that stretched from where you were standing all the way to where her two other cherubs were patiently waiting. You uncaring little fuc*er, I pray that some madwoman will escape from a mental hospital, choose you as her victim and strangle you.