And it’s my obligation as a human being to call Don Lemon a pettifogging lickspittle.
>And it’s my obligation as a human being to call Don Lemon a pettifogging lickspittle.
A craven dewberry-pisshead cockup pratting-naff I might add.
Would that a hawk pick him up, drive its beak into his brain, and upon finding it rancid set him loose to fly
briefly before spattering the ocean rocks with the frothy pink shame of his ignoble blood. May he choke on the queasy, convulsing nausea of his own trite, foolish beliefs or his boyfriends excreta