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—✮☆— Love Letter to a Badass Bald Bitch —✮☆—

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Hey, Tōsh This is the fifth year we’ve known each other & we must take a long moment to hail each other for not ending up in a high-security Bihari prison serving a life sentence for going Ted Bundy/Dahmer on the other. We’re two Stoic betches! Last three & a half months have been ridiculously productive & disappeared at lightning pace. I’ve minted more rectangular Gandhis than I ever have in my pro-life. Today, I sit here & write this deliciously dark letter. In the real world, writing this letter is considered a colossal burn of time as I will spend hours carving it & earn zero Gandhis from my creative crunches.   Maybe I’m stupid — all the money, fame, cheap vodka, threesomes, degrees, honors, Snapchat.nudes, blowsJs are exposed as hollow pursuits when they are pitched against a friendship that is still alive after five years, which in the Fully.Filtered.InstaWorld is worth 55.5 years. Fun Fact : Anything worthwhile in life is either free or fleeting — and life
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—✮☆— In Cold Blood is NOT a True Story —✮☆—

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I loved my girlfriend till I choked her! Now the betch is dead — Not a True story. In Cold Blood — Not a True story either. Hats & Pants off, Sir Truman Capote for writing this book that I loved & made love to.   Fuck you, Sir Truman Capote for selling this book as a True story. True that — On November 15th, 1959, Perry Edward Smith [Perry] & Richard Eugene Hickock [Dick] killed — Herb, Bonnie, Kenyon & Nancy Clutter. But that’s where the Truth rests in peace & Truman’s imagination & artistry are born. In Cold Blood is based on a True Story, written to give lusty readers orgasms & make Truman an overnight millionaire & superstar author. I hate the Rich — most rich betches got poor betches’ blood on their bums & breasts. I love Truman. He got rich on Clutters’ bloody graves. But his was a victimless crime . All the crisp, movie-like dialogue, bone-chilling scenes & philosophical/flawed/poetic/sociopathic characters he created were certainly a f
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Is Oppenheimer Christopher Nolan’s Greatest Film?

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“I’m become Death — the Destroyer of Worlds.” J. Robert Oppenheimer I watch movies because they kidnap me from the roaches-filled Gutter of Reality & airdrop me into the Ocean of bitchilicious Beauty or Bombs . Of course, most movies are more godawful than childbirth. I'd rather be naked & licking Kim Jong Un’s balls in prison in North Korea than sit through 3 hours of ₹ 700 cr VFX-disaster Adipurush or overrated jingoistic trash RRR. But some movies hit you like Thunder — they make your crappy one-bedroom apartment in dingy downtown Bihar feel prettier than Taj Mahal — they make True Love feel like a one-night stand — they make you feel happier & higher than when you chugged a bucket of Budweiser — they give you more orgasms than your dildo ever will — they make you forget all your regrets, all the terrible things you did & all the terrible things that happened to you , they make you miss all those beautiful humans who made your life less awful — they make you rea
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