Travis Westphall is a retard, and also, should I trust the Scottish to have kept safe my up-locked PS3 for even bargain loaf-sole?

 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. Even if his suitability for reading it is WORSE (he phoneticizes it, I clarify).

He would've certainly done as a "tone neutralizer" as they are called in prison for the inflammatory diagnosis I received of about 30 pages from Dr. Hughes' aunt acting as a psychiatrist making a wholly convincing case for the idea I'm a psychopath for about 1/5th of the paper that doesn't respond to the intransigence of speaking to a scorned and bestilled neurote wreaking in the dis-patience of being referred to a mono-dimension, leaf, faggot, stump, chump, and fraud, in obviously itself-psychopathate language.

I've been "down-diagnosed" (not so much in gender theory; yes if you're a superficial benefits 'gwaa'h') a psychopath, with some residual N/HPDia. However, I've accordingly suffered a massive slice in my living standards. I think to condescend me later edits were made to acknowledge the historical 'sperg context.

But let's forget that; whilst, there's a temporary, maybe one or two week way to reverse tragedies

In 2018, I'd bought a PlayStation 3 and like seven, maybe less games. In un-official-official extent, realistically three games, the entire Gran Turismo series' available to the system.

I don't know, its' perhaps like £30 and maybe counting up-ward in tens from my estimate; forty, fifty-quid return for all such items in agglomn?

That's like 6 evening suppers. I can't afford to resist just, instead of acting solemnescently subservient like I usually do, repeatedly 'tard raging whilst drunk at council offices to see if they acknowledge or come closely to doing so a will to resolve the matter and win about a week's worth of scots' autism-dole.

(I refer to the food; not the spirit of the cash, the reason for these posts' low quality is due to no neurological impairment other than hypocalorificia).

The country is in the plague of some of the un-superficial signs of starvation even amongst its' impromptu, de facto middle-classes unprescedentedly as of late. Some of the bag sizes I've seen have been their lowest size since the early 2000s, during the last mixed food disease and mixed crop famine.

Travis Westphall's people as he knows bare full responsibility for the economic problem denying us much of exportation market to much more than Canada and native Irriqois proto-Hamitoid shitholes of the Hamish whose economics are so undynamically soup-kitchen-esque they are a fucking joke.

He further risks the safety of a known philosophical writer reduced thereby to unphilosophical function, and permanently Medusasized function.

I am saddened that he takes so much inspiration in being able to "figure out TOR" as an intellectual barrier as opposed to the refusal of the individual to morally impinge themselves amidst a willingly unpublished and police-seized manifesto mostly whining for the latter 16 pages (yes, a continuation from R, F; no, I didn't want America's verbal IQ to expand), about tor-pedoism in culture, police, establishment(s), &c.

Westphall's more rational response than to brazenly reject negotiation with the individual here-blogged/blogging was to accept that in the midst of a food-crisis and even procedurally taxing of the intensity of a long-term friendship that more done in the relief of food to a very small request sizably that of the cheapest ramen to a quantity, in leui card-activatable assistance being available owing a number of court-order imposed retardation-orders being conspiratorially fought the very lawyer supposed to defend them (in conventional-joe; publieire pubiere logic), Westphall risks a very dangerous assignment to the nascently endangered Gil-Ryeon who now wallows phenogenically in a superficially imposed calorific retardation for the world public to laugh at his sustenaiety and endurance-compromised retortions and ripostes to all which bestowe challenge him.

Including, he wishes to document anyway (as yours' truly), a new songunblog conspiracy involving the individual engaging in something of Cambodian fraud and French diplomatic fraud under the Curious George concern to feign the financial instruments for the consolidation of undue intelligence and unsubstantiatively orchestrated instruments powermentorily.