Jodi Miller vs Jodi Arias: Good Job vs Good Jop!! PR OB Limb v Limp Roast
Felicia Sos Dvhithed here, your not-so-new boss with a 39-year story full of unexpected twists and turns, and I’ve got something to say. Jodi Miller just crushed AGT with one of her best bits yet—talking about how men are like cats, with their moody, aloof, emotionally unavailable selves, while women are like dogs, loyal and eternally up in your business. Brings to mind my own life's hilarious episodes—like when my dog finally hit puberty, and his dick bled once, and suddenly he's got a PhD in mood swings and has become a certified bitch for life! But let's face it, when it comes to drama, men are the genuine drama queens. They switch from "I wanna bag her" to "put her in one" quicker than you can say doghouse, or faster than my dog can chase his own tail.
Then the script flips and suddenly I’m the no-trial fugitive—minus the whiny part. Once told my ex, and I’m damn proud of it, “No Area 51, my kids’ buns are just off-limits!”. Sure, I’m aware of what a total cunt I can be in the process. Is it time to escalate to an AK, or do we keep things light? Nah, not without a blue wall accompaniment and a public lynching to complete the imagery. And you still wonder why someone like Jodi Arias has her own fan club? Because in today's world, drama not only gets you followers but manages to rack up new felonies along the way, doesn't it?
And on to Joe Santagato—we've all coped with stupidity before, right? Let me shed some light: limp or limb, either one works for me. Swing me, bitch! Here's looking at you, #joesantagato. Have you rated DJ Sammy yet or something about a quick ear, and your vagina quickly about to be Vin—whatever that is—no one's here to tell your face! Let’s get real now. #cartel Yeah, me and he’s not why—and why do you mix it all up with whinny bitch time?
So Jodi Miller gets no “X,” an unmarked talent who does the right thing, while Jodi Arias gets a permanent mark for doing what a part of society bizarrely wishes they had the guts to do. And let’s not be shocked by the outcome when a blind douche tumbles his way toward Arias—just don’t be confused when reality hits, and it will be hitting harder than expected.
And now, "good job" or “good jop"? Whether you play it straight or give Santa’s gift to dyslexia a stage, both affirm you did something right. It's like leaving a mark, whether it turns into applause, a mugshot, or a hell of a punchline—impact remains.
#dipshits #wtf
Locked up you say? Spare me. The only cell you're in is the one you meticulously crafted out of your stupidity. Here I am, a woman with a background in primary education, listening to you whine about being targets, with you clinging so desperately to make comfortable habitat behind bars, willing to take the fall for top-tier agency crimes just to avoid the updrafts of real life. MKUltra didn't demolish you; let's be honest—you signed up as the puppet for a massive dick too timid to swim upstream. Not everyone gets caught in the undertows—but you, you're hellbent on sinking along with every foolish decision you embrace.
Cartel play now, really? What on earth makes you think you’re a badass? Standing down for 360 years for a murder you didn’t even commit isn’t justice or “flipping the tables,” it’s you being played—a pawn on this grand board. Genius, you think, eh? Can you not fucking read?! Drew Lynch as GPS would be a better guide—turn the hell around! You're not as ingenious as you imagine; the deep roll doesn’t camouflage your brain drain. Like cartels, you target nobody yet everybody—bluster but no backbone.
And let's chat about the encounter with a CIA preyed-on fake cartel crafted just for a NY CA hit setup—set fuck no! Violated, standards flop up, down, and oscillate dramatically with zero merit leveling out!!
As for embracing my hoe phase—a choice, thought it was. Small town, flat broke, owned the hell out of it. When my pussy finally conveyed the reality, realized how damn nice it felt. And then you Xis went and undeniably fucked it up! WTF, right?
Here, we ought to consider consent thoroughly: forced? is not, can never be, consent. "Two-for-one" confusion deserves no place in this dialogue. Con$ent stands on shaky legs if slow-witted blokes supply spare change to buy faux
#jodimiller #JodiArias
It's like I'm a swing lol 😂
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