>> |
12/14/11(Wed)12:59 No.5245926>>5245912 Picture
that. Picture the sweet, fresh, floral look of a sweet lolita. Blonde
hair, blue eyes, pretty dress, smile on her face, a carefree spirit with
no cares and no ill wish for anyone.
Now picture this. The
blonde hair is a matted, sand-coloured plastic mess. The dress seams are
stretching to bursting point as the foul, reeking flesh presses against
it, giving one the impression that if fabric could speak, it would be
screaming. The fresh faced beauty is covered in a layer of fat, then a
layer of thick, caked on makeup. Over the top of that lies a thin film
of oil that catches the light and shines yellowish. The smile morphs
into a shiteating grin of superiority as she grabs the nearest young
lolita and pulls her in for a photo that she can tell everyone is a shot
of her and her fans. The poor young girl's nostrils are filled with the
smell of rotting meat, the camera flashes in her eyes and she swoons to
the ground. Bloodmyer pays no attention and makes sure she looks
kawaii on the LCD screen of the camera before walking away, leaving a
trail of dead hair, stench and depression in her wake. And you have Bloodmyer. |