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E-lame, ever closer to trooning out, lustrages over the female superior. By "My Enemies", one presumes she means the chosen few (like wot I is) who have been mocking this bint for years (plural, rot in piss Metocuck.us), the silly sausage. We are not your enemies, E-lame. Your enemies are: Your intellect and your personality (or lack of). btw...
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Look at that hooter.
In other news...
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How she gonna kick it? She gonna kick it root down...
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Gargle has decided that, him being a fag, his hugbox needed a hag.