write about something you really dislike. here's your chance to blast it. go for the jugular on this one
there's a creature down the road. some people call it a woman. i call it a whore. a slunt, which is a combination of slut and cunt. the kind of woman who will smile to your face while stabbing you in the back. i truly dislike her. if it wasn't bad enough that she doesn't know how to keep her legs closed, she had the nerve to beg me (sobbing, no less) not to take my son away from her. excuse me? he's my son, honey. you have no right and no claim to him. and if i have anything to say about it, you'll never be blessed with his incredibly charming presence again. i might not be able to do anything about his dad keeping company with you, but i do have say in whether or not my son has your stink on him.