I hate the scot more than ever

 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 as to the achievement of the score's imposition; the individual is not known to complaint, queruly, or any of the things delusionally alluded the given piece. The author was the step-mother of James Hughes, a known post-graduate and PhD mixedly in aeronautry and physics.

Offense isn't even taken to the misascription of the individual with Sean Vie, a known spasmodic of the area with limited intellectual and physical abilities and racially defective P-Celtoform race.  I don't want any of my secondary attainments. They merely described even-sexologically of the individual that they deserve to be acknowledged as a homosexual fuck with nothing but aberrosexual qualities of being. The people purporting the validity and viability such views deserve to be stapled in the undereyes with an unofficed querrupule and for the instrument to be pulled until they lose occular capacity, especially those closer adhering or proponent the idea that fiscal quannalling an ineligable of either debit transferrability or credit lendability was ever good an idea.

Let alone any cutting with a pair of scissors Melissa Bakhsh' face that deserve to be done for his involvement and manufactured death.

Scots' tend to have a starvation-fetishism habit and this was all, really, that was comprehended about my pivotal secondary school project; not that I was capable of comprehending intellectually such an ideology as complex as Juchesasang, not that I had any deep appreciations or inherent intellectual leanings, not that edgelordery was ever uninherent my vein. To literally knock oneself against a surface or wall was a repeated childhood ritual, still unrecompensed, that in the light of my mother's demise not last fall but the one prior, is seen fit to refuse thereof, that has me avoiding legal counsel in the lack of desire to up-raise or discuss in the likely prevarication of either issue; i) that legal counsel are responsible in the first place for my robbed financial independence and ii) that legal counsel are probably for their up-mediated beourgeoiseness by the scots' state raciologically only about as capable as to be responsible for the inherent urge to impose upon this probably that of their own children, even.

Innegotiability of this degree is probably warrantless beyond "I wish for more prison time," given the favourability by this mechanismus conditions.

Add that Scots' individuals have been mixed-Irriqois and African since at least the 1950s and we have our answer as to why up-whited individuals in the mis-miscegenation and thyroxinatory melanin-erosion such lines are a waste of time to even speak to is even forgiven on the part of Travis Westphall if this is all he was told about my supposed people on genetic tests.