We sat silently indulging in each other’s presence. Neither of us speaks; however we, let the stench and sound of New York City wash over us: the lights, the people, the running, and worst of all and the honking and beeping of hundreds of cars. I was entranced in his handsomeness; howbeit, something in his lap caught my eyes. A times article written by Wendy Lee, one of the world’s worst people, but she can write so the publishers of the times said “Screw it, we’ll take her.” She’s turned every story she’s written into a satanic, arrogant, vapid, piece of crap (change) in which she believes the entire population of New York City should read. Real journalists who have a passion and love for the art despise her, a real journalist such as me.
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“My fiancé, Matt and I sat in the botanical gardens of Central Park observing the beautiful fountain, which one day our unborn children will have the chance to play in. A block down from where we parlayed in unrealistic fantasies an elderly woman sat listening to Bach and asking innocent onlookers for change her polluted stench only worsening the already vomitous smell which is New York, a woman unable to do anything for herself, but rot in her own excrement. She was nothing but a giant baby who sucked off the government for too long before they finally decided to put her where she belonged, the dingy streets of New York City. How can we as a people succeed without the demolition and destruction of those who were failures from birth? From those who didn’t deserve life? I was supposed to write a piece honoring homeless veterans and what they’ve done for our country. However, the life of a homeless, seriously deranged man matters less to me than the crumb a rat leaves behind due to the fact it was too rotten for even a worthless creature such as a rat to eat. To end on a more positive note, Hitler was right, we should dispel of these creatures as best we can.” What kind of man could read such horrid things about the unfortunate? More specifically, what kind of a man could read Wendy Lee, and have a shred of dignity? The answer: No man.
“Why are you reading an article by Wendy lee isn’t she …show more content…
There are compromises, there are hardships, nothing can be explained with I'm sorry or it was my fault, but then again, there is bliss and ecstasy in knowing you are loved unconditionally. Days of sheer perfection passed with the knowledge that I was waking up every day next to a man who loved me, and I, him. Be that as it may, after years the perfection and joy of loving each other became overwhelming. It turned from a mindless act to a need, an obsession. We began competing with each other day after day. Who bought the biggest bouquet for Valentine 's Day, who awarded his/her lover with the best birthday present, or who showed the largest amount of PDA? And the prize was the fact that the victor could sleep with whoever he/she wanted to without judgment from the losing party. This was no longer a marriage, a commitment. We had relapsed to an era when we were teenagers, and just wanted to have an entertaining time. We were 21 again and didn't care if the other could keep his pants up or not. I knew it had gone too far when I sat across from him contemplating the schematics of how to screw him as best I could, simply, so I wasn't required to sleep next to him that night. I needed to leave, but I didn't not before the ultimate "Screw you," came in the form of a bleach blonde bimbo with double D's. Her name Wendy Lee Coffield. She was
“My fiancé, Matt and I sat in the botanical gardens of Central Park observing the beautiful fountain, which one day our unborn children will have the chance to play in. A block down from where we parlayed in unrealistic fantasies an elderly woman sat listening to Bach and asking innocent onlookers for change her polluted stench only worsening the already vomitous smell which is New York, a woman unable to do anything for herself, but rot in her own excrement. She was nothing but a giant baby who sucked off the government for too long before they finally decided to put her where she belonged, the dingy streets of New York City. How can we as a people succeed without the demolition and destruction of those who were failures from birth? From those who didn’t deserve life? I was supposed to write a piece honoring homeless veterans and what they’ve done for our country. However, the life of a homeless, seriously deranged man matters less to me than the crumb a rat leaves behind due to the fact it was too rotten for even a worthless creature such as a rat to eat. To end on a more positive note, Hitler was right, we should dispel of these creatures as best we can.” What kind of man could read such horrid things about the unfortunate? More specifically, what kind of a man could read Wendy Lee, and have a shred of dignity? The answer: No man.
“Why are you reading an article by Wendy lee isn’t she …show more content…
There are compromises, there are hardships, nothing can be explained with I'm sorry or it was my fault, but then again, there is bliss and ecstasy in knowing you are loved unconditionally. Days of sheer perfection passed with the knowledge that I was waking up every day next to a man who loved me, and I, him. Be that as it may, after years the perfection and joy of loving each other became overwhelming. It turned from a mindless act to a need, an obsession. We began competing with each other day after day. Who bought the biggest bouquet for Valentine 's Day, who awarded his/her lover with the best birthday present, or who showed the largest amount of PDA? And the prize was the fact that the victor could sleep with whoever he/she wanted to without judgment from the losing party. This was no longer a marriage, a commitment. We had relapsed to an era when we were teenagers, and just wanted to have an entertaining time. We were 21 again and didn't care if the other could keep his pants up or not. I knew it had gone too far when I sat across from him contemplating the schematics of how to screw him as best I could, simply, so I wasn't required to sleep next to him that night. I needed to leave, but I didn't not before the ultimate "Screw you," came in the form of a bleach blonde bimbo with double D's. Her name Wendy Lee Coffield. She was