Fuck Moochers

I woke up this morning because of a text from Jake (the one in that article) asking if he could crash in my apartment. I ignored his bitchass. Then he called. "Hey man," he says. "I need a place to stay. I got kicked out of my place." I told him his ass can live out in the streets, and he could eat a fucking dick cause he sho' ain't going to be fucking living with me. That fucking piece of cum-gurgling retarded-ass dickshit is a fucking mooch. He isn't even a friend of mine. I'd help a brother out, but this cracker must be straight up tripping if I let his "I-don't-fucking-shower" ass to crash with me. That piece of shit is a fucking Oscar, a fucking Oxycontin junkie. The last thing I fucking need is a mentally retarded bum living in my apartment doing nothing but snorting drugs and using up my precious fucking electricity and water. Man, what a fucking punkass. He doesn't have a job either, and he ain't in college. He "promised" to get a job application later if I said he could crash at my place. Later isn't fucking good enough for me. Plus, I don't want his fucking lice to live with me in my fucking place. Do you know how fucking disgusting that is? Also, tell me how the fuck are you going to fucking get a fucking job when you aren't fucking able to fucking pass the fucking drug test. Tell me that, you retarded dickheaded witless fuck. You ain't coming anywhere near my place, you fucking homo.

Tell that asshole dick fiend to fucking be useful or some shit. God. Mooches were bad enough in high school, but at this day and age it's fucking ridiculous. So yeah, Jake, if you're reading this, go fuck yourself. I concluded the day by going to 7-11 and buying myself a delicious Big Gulp. Oh yeah, fuck you too, you shitass nosy bastard. You fuckhead.