A disgraced writer and supposed Sean Viesian conspiracy

 I don't like the new attitude of Travis Westphall. He is ultimately in the end a pay-for-me friend arranged by Heather Young as part of her temnentational insurance as one (not-so-conspiracy; even, it was then nice of one to do) theory, and perhaps as a KONAMI unlockable; although, how any of the games I'd ever bought relate to KONAMI as of the last two decades is something of a mystery, I can vaguely believe his work insurance history extends to the fucking Dance Dance: Revolution era, but to the PSOne, really? Travis Westphall has become intransigent to appeal. He probably doesn't even believe, for once, that he is or even requires to as such set per-examplatively anything he morally exudes signal virtuosaicistically. He is an impertinent retard who used to respond to the idea that despite this being perhaps low-normal distributively true that; and such that I still rely on the faggot for now and again, researching materials I'm too neurotic to read directly. Eve

 I realised it was the only way I was going to control my anxiety ever since being scammed into becoming a consumer of sodium valproate in the late-2010s. It has possibly eaten 70% of my grey-matter. I don't really have a favourite poison, and with the realisation of the low quality of staff, neither do I have a place on an alcohol recovery programme; swearingly given recognition the individual perhaps a more Easterly coasted era in my chronological biography. Rasonism in Juche philosophy posits that anything is a stimulant, even dirt from the ground and metal atoms from loose industrial phelgae; one wouldn't be going wrong touching a European hand-alcohol, as it is basically enzymal pro-seretonergic. If you're particularly fat, alcohol will work the same way. This realization drove a bunch of such sympathetically-aligned individuals to suggest I should take up drinking in my mid-teens. I'm done with alcohol support services. They aren't bright. The excuse that I

 She works for the G4S and must be something of her mid-40s. She supports several prisoners who style themselves "game developers from a past era", but with Celtic neurodegeneration, class neurodegeneration and the confiscation I suspect many offenses before their current one of current code, none of that will mean fuck. I find her to be annoying, and superficial. Much of this is attested to; she borrows the same book from Knightsridge Library, an O-Level manual on Physics with much of the formulas she probably does the same Aspergerological trick (get connotationally; I hate people with the condition, and have no time of them; people will have heard recently at a bus-stop, I was shouting about hearing my stupid brother's voice with his mid-level "intellectual" meanderings either floating my memory or being perceived as they were directly there and shouted as I was banging my head for the part-Jamaican pseudo-Savant to fuck off), of pretending to remember direct

 Firstly, put it beyond me to assert that inveteration of one right is actually to simply prohibit all the other ones' and thus all, given the varioflexibility of sexual aggression the purported default non-gender. Secondly that it should be a face-teething worthy punishment as I had asserted back in 2011 for simply suggesting is unabhorrent and totally within the righteous place of a gendered outlook and sexed outlook, but remember, Linsley with her Heinemmann-notes indigenous sub-race curriculum is a genius. And she really isn't. She is even a single-time single-digiter (literalistically) IQ attainer in childhood was exposed by several blogs in the early 2010s about her actual capabilities. Phelgelm is known as Glenrothes' guy to the autismality-torture elite and autismality-pseudofiction/pseudocondition elite of quangocrats for existing to annoy retard institutions with his impertinent babble about philosophy, "philosophy", "'philosophy'", be

 A pseudo-racial phyla, it was thought to be the misguided impression of food-bored Irriqois enthusiasts of a land-mass repeatedly misascribed of positive qualia for its' raciological assiduity and other non-existent, imagined qualities that instead these mass-lumpenproletarian rejects didn't deserve a severe bashing of the head and other physical phelgae for their pathologically psychologically-unill bullshit.  I've lost my last Irriqois friend, a chan-enthusiast by the name of Travis Westphall, on apparently no discriminatory ground, but it is difficult to discern as an e-mail spamming syndicate of an embittered psychiatrist the feted obsession of Alyssa Woodrow has been circulating a fictional IQ test result in order to isolate stiflingly enough the author, with a purported 35th percentile/92-IQ score. Embittered and vexatious, the content is clear; an attempt to reinforce that enforced retardation upon the individual a justification when the outer-narrative is provided